Benny the Imp

Living here on the Yishuv I often see little ones behaving...dangerously. It is not uncommon to see the young flip across the street as if it were just another part of the sidewalk; I'm astounded that there haven't been more serious accidents. I am certain G-d is watching. 

On the way to work today I saw one little guy, I'll call him Benny, approach the street as a car raced past. My heart went into my throat! I know Benny...he's a sweet, hyperactive tyke, halfway between cherub and imp, with stunning cinnamon-brown locks and deep, dark brown eyes that make you just one to hug him up. But there is no stopping to hug Benny! He's always chasing about, running hither and thither, always after the "big boys". He really doesn't seem to get he is a dwarf compared to some of these other fellows!! He certainly gives his family a run for the money! And he's a little escape artist to boot! So don't blame his family for his escapades. 

So like I said, car's coming to fast for me to get across and there I stood heart in throat. As soon as the car passed I started across to help Benny across the rest of the way but Benny quickly looked left, right and left again and then, like so many who have "just learned how to cross the street" just as fast as his little legs could take him, and headed for home. 

I wanted to go congratulate his mom on training her child so well; but his mother doesn't speak English all that well. Besides she's a b****. 

Oh and in case you want an idea of what Benny looks like, here he is! 

Benny 

Now isn't he sweet? 
(the best I can do. Don't really have a pic of him.) 
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(I actually am amazed that there aren't more serious accidents with the two legged imps on this Yishuv. G-d really is watching over them.)

By Popular Demand!

Well not really...but here are the two poems I wanted to share. They are just silliness, but sometimes you got to be silly! Or, at least that is what my brain tells me...my brain is a bit nuts though...

These are actually from a writing club that has been formed on a board I'm on.
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Um, Right
(aka as crazy day at the office)

Wrote write right,
but it was the wrong right to write
I should have written right,
but I wrote write,
but at least I wrote write right, right?
Even though it was wrong right to write


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(we were suppose to write a silly ode. This one is in the style, I hope, or Rustavelian Quartrain)
ODE TO A RED SHIRT 

Could a red rose fresh on the bush ever think itself to compare, 
To my 100 percent cotton shirt,which I do now declare 
Made me fit for the canvas of the artiste'Jean-Babtiste Santerre 
But oh now, oh now,I'm in utter,complete,and total despair 

After years of service devoted,trustworthy and glorious 
preforming in times of duty, difficult and laborious 
whether I had lost the battle or emerging victorious 
my red shirt was always there for me faithful meritorious 

And then one day to my horror---oh the pain for I discovered 
a memory from which even still today I have not recovered 
for in my preparations for dress one day I had uncovered 
a tear, a dreadful tear, on the shirts back that could not be covered! 

My friends, my family, my beloved ones with seeming sympathy 
have assured me that I can prevail,and survive this tragedy 
(though I've this suspicion that for me there's not too much empathy) 
for this terrible, this tragic, this horrific catastrophe. 

(Hey, really liked this shirt.






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BUT on a more serious note:


Who am I?

Constructing,destructing,adding,amending
there's no ending
till the final ending.

How can I avow,
that this is THE me?
A minute from NOW
Another me will be!

Constructing,destructing,adding, amending
there's no ending
till the final ending.

So here's the answer
to what you're asking
There is no I here
only I becoming

I can't believe Chanukah is almost over!

Didn't it start yesterday?
These days at home have given me the rest I needed. I've still be doing some tweeting for Yad Ezra V'Shulamit but mostly I've been chilling.

I missed doing yesterdays gift
Given: Listened to a friend who needed to talk
Received: Lessons on how to play Smash brothers

And  todays gifts;
Given: Shared a video with my husband
Received: THE RAIN! okay, that wasn't just for me but for the whole of Israel. Thank you Hashem! Please we want more!

There is a prayer I've been saying contained in the morning davening (service). I started davening after the rain and before I reached the section of prayer that that particular request was contained in I rushed upstairs to ask my husband if I could say it. I wasn't sure if, as we had gotten the rain already, we could continue to make our requests to G-d for rain.Wasn't it a bit like getting a bowl of ice creaming and then, instead of being satisfied demanding more. But he assured me it was not. So thank you very much Hashem, but please we need more!

More Joy

Under my first post on Chanukah miracles asked " "..

"Somehow I dont get, why these examples are miracles. To help each other, i or should be the "normal way" I think.The only relation to miracle I can find is, when you think, Hashem gives you the means to help others (something to say "thank you" for I thinkm, its great when you ae able to help others...) "

This is a fair question; I suppose I explained it poorly before. I was pleased therefore, as part of my tweeting for Yad Ezra V'Shulamit, to find this on Aish.com, stating basically what I believe.

From the article:

Miracle on Ice

Nachmanides, the great 12th century sage, writes:

Through recalling and acknowledging the great manifest and revealedmiracles, a person ultimately acknowledges the hidden miracles of everyday life. For a person [must] believe that all of our affairs and experiences are miracles, that there is no element of nature and "ordinary events" in life at all.

This is what I am referring to. The fact that a we should be helping each other doesn't take away from the miracle that we have done so and have received help. All our lives are little miracles put together. When we can see that, we can better understand the tremendous impact a small deed has on a person as well as we can understand the tremendous benefits we receive

The miracles for today, given and received, are one and the same. 

My family and.were able to spend a full 2 hours watching a movie, without interruption, all snuggled together.

We are so busy and pressured lately that this was an absolute bracha (blessing) for our lives.

Today's miracle

Don't just comment people! Play along. I want to hear about your lives and what is happening that is beautiful in your lives. We all need to work together to help each other and one way to do that is learning to appreciate what we have.

Today's Miracles:
Given: Eased my dh’s work by taking over part of his task.
Received:My kids did their chores without complaining and even came to a mutual agreement on what to do without any argument.


Because I won't be able to write on Shabbat
Tomorrow's Miracles:
Given: A great Shabbat meal on a very slim budget.
Received. My life and the life of my husband and children. In the face of the horror that is facing the North these are great miracles in the life of my children. 

Eight Days of Miracles

So often we think of miracles as great, supernatural events which drastically effect our lives for the better. And of course these are miracles. Sudden, inexplicable, wondrous events are miracles that are few and far between, at least for most of us.

But everyday miracles are what spin our daily lives, and too often we don't appreciate what we have till, as has been said many times before, we lose it. A good friend who calls when we need it most, a smile when we are feeling down from a complete stranger, a compliment when we least expect it, a gift that comes just from love.

We are not however only recipients of these everyday miracles. We are the source of miracles, sometimes without even knowing what we have done.

Have you ever stood up on behalf of a stranger, given courage where it was most needed, given a loan to a friend who was down on their luck without thought of having it returned? Have you ever withheld from yourself a treat or a pleasure and instead given the money that would otherwise have been spent to a person in great need?

These are the miracles that keep our lives and the lives of others from pitching out of control. Not everything is flash and glitter. Sometimes the best miracles are quiet things which seem to make no waves and we may wonder if they have any effect at all.

I work for a tzedakah (charity) organization. Don't doubt what a small gift can do. Don't doubt what an hour cutting up vegetables or packing bags or calling one's friends to ask them to donate to a particular charity can do.

Each effort on behalf of someone else is a miracle.

It is Chanukah today, the first day of Chanukah. Last night we lit the first candle. The holiday celebrates the physical victory over our enemies and the spiritual victory over those who denigrated Torah principles. You can learn more about the holiday here: All about Chanukah

Everyday for the next eight days I'm going to try and write about a daily miracle that has made my life better, and a "miracle" I've worked for someone else.

Share with me what you have received and what you have given as I am sharing with you. Lets inspire each other.

Day 1
Miracle Recieved
Friends helped us via loans to continue living in our house. It took several months to pay them back but we were able to return all the money. Both are a miracle in my eyes.
Miracle Given
 I gave a gift that was given to me to someone who could use it more. The woman's face lit up with such joy that it was all I needed for my happiness.

CATS

In Israel cats have replaced squirrels (of which there are none) as the cute, wild, ubiquitous species. They are everywhere in Israel and my town is no exception.

They hang out in the park, gad about through the yards, and dive for food among the dumpsters (which we have instead of curbside pick-up). In short…they make a pleasant nuisance of themselves. Pleasant, if you are like me, and have the habit of speaking to wildlife, cats, birds, dogs, lizards, who cross one’s path. Pleasant, if you like me, enjoy watching them prance and play: probably a nuisance for most else.

During Succot one stray or not so stray -the cat may or may not semi-belong to a family down the street who have a habit of claiming but not really caring for various cats- came to visit us: a cute little imp, not quite full grown by the size of it, white fur with a few black spots, one smack in the middle of its forehead, and a rather scruffy tail. My husband and I named it George, for no reason that we know of, informing our children who, because they think it a girl and thus protested the name, that George would do for both. One child insists on Snowball. We have not conceded.

I happen to love George. He is cute, and friendly, and funny…well I would adopt him in minute but three problems persist. 1) My husband, who isn’t as compelled as I am (for financial reasons) into making our home a refugee for animals. 2) Our two already owned cats, who aren’t into other animals as much as I am. Rather territorial those two I am afraid. 3) The family down the street who would most likely protest the sudden appropriation of there semi-cat.

So George must continue to live as s/he is living now; outside, untended by us.

But George likes us, and therein lies the problem. George, to the best of my knowledge hasn’t had his shots. George, like most young cats who like humans likes to play with said humans. And cats at play sometimes scratch. Another reason I want to adopt George. At least I know then s/he has its rabies shot!

Monday I was walking up the “50 Steps” (a family designation) to the library which doubles as a מרכז הלמידה (learning center) to fulfill my duty as volunteer English tutor for whoever comes…Some days I go mad with the number of people who want me, having to deal with two or three at one time, and a few in the wings, other days no one wants me! Well at the library no one wanted me, but George certainly did! Jumping at my feet and my bag persistently; several times I needed to take George by the scruff and move him (or her) away. Finally I did manage to get away. George’s territory it seems ends with the second landing on the stairs.

Through the park I went, turning onto the street and past the dumpsters where I greet the stray and less friendly members of George’s clan. There one cute as a button kitten, no more than a month old, is trying to intimidate a much older, and larger cat. The cats scatter. My presence alarms, as it should. Humans and strays don’t always get along. The kitten and a cat I presume is its mother, as the kitten jumps down after said cat, scurried across the street. I continued up the hill and have gone quite a few steps when I see a car turn, and go down the street.

And I hear tires screech. Even without looking I know.

I turn around; it couldn’t be those cats…they would have crossed the street by now. I had walked some distance before they rushed away and the street isn’t large. Maybe they got away. The car drives off and a large cat is lying there…it moves, I hope, it falls. And a dark, thin stream flows away from it down the hill.

A white cat comes out from behind the bins, stares, one foot raised, confused and tense. I turn back around and continue up the hill, feeling slightly guilty (was I guilty for causing the cats to scatter? And I felt even more compelled to campaign for George's adoption) and extremely sad.

Life is so fragile for all of us.

I have often wondered about the last thoughts of those who have had no time to prepare to face their death. Lofty or little, does it matter? Those of a certain spiritual temperament may feel that it is for these reasons that higher thoughts should always be kept in mind.

But does it really matter? What difference does it make if in ten years those thoughts of G-d or science or the Arts would have had a more profound effect on one or on the world than thoughts about what to make for dinner, if those ten years will never exist?