November 3, 2001
Shabbat Shalom!
This has been such an exciting week!
Our new Temple's dedication ceremony took place last Sunday! It was sooooooo beautiful and inspirational....We all felt part of a truly historic event......The building is fabulous.....
I can't wait 'till we actually move in!
I'm sending you a story from Ross Yair Kobernick and an article that Debbie Rozansky sent in.....
Have a wonderful week!
Love,
Eemah
A nice story I thought you would enjoy
Yair(Ross) Kobernick
Let's Run Through the Rain - Author Unknown
She had been shopping with her Mom in Wal-Mart. She must have been 6 years
old, this beautiful brown haired, freckle-faced image of innocence. It was
pouring outside, the kind of rain that gushes over the tops of rain gutters,
so much in a hurry to hit the earth that it has no time to flow down the
spout. Drains in the nearby parking lot were filled to capacity and some
were blocked so that huge puddles laced around parked cars.
We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the
Wal-Mart, waiting, some patiently and others irritated because nature had
messed up their hurried day.
I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I get lost in the sound and sight of the
heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running,
splashing so carefree as a child, came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from
the worries of my day.
Her voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught
in. "Mom, let's run through the rain," she said.
"What?" Mom asked.
"Let's run through the rain," she repeated.
"No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit," Mom replied.
The young child waited about another minute then repeated, "Mom, let's run
through the rain."
"We'll get soaked if we do," Mom said.
"No, we won't, Mom. That's not what you said this morning." The young girl
tugged at her mom's arm.
"This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get
wet?"
"Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you
said, 'If God can get us through this, He can get us through anything!"
The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear we could not hear anything but
the rain. We stood silently. No one came or left in the next few minutes.
Her Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now, some
would have laughed it off and scolded the child for being silly. Some might
have ignored what was said. But the wise mom knew this was a moment of
affirmation in a young child's life, a time to nurture innocent trust so it
could bloom into faith.
"Honey," the mom said, "you are absolutely right! Let's run through the
rain. If God let's us get wet, well, maybe we just needed washing." Then
off they ran.
We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars
and, yes, through the puddles. They held their shopping bags over their
heads, just in case. And they got soaked. A few others followed, screaming
and laughing like children all the way to their cars.
I want to believe that somewhere down the road of life that mom will find
herself reflecting back on moments they spent together, captured like
pictures in the scrapbook of her cherished memories. Maybe when she watches
proudly as her daughter graduates or as her daddy walks her down the aisle
on her wedding day, she will laugh again, her heart will beat a little
faster, her smile will tell the world they love each other. But only they
will share that precious moment when they ran through the rain, believing
that God would get them through.
And, yes, I did! I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.
Circumstances or people can take away our material possessions, they can
take away our money, they can take away our health. But no one can ever take
away our precious memories. So don't forget to make time and take the
opportunities to make memories every day. I believe that friends are quiet
angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how
to fly. I hope that you
will take the time to run through the rain.
I pass along a poignant -- and distressing -- piece by the Israeli author
David Grossman. It appeared in Monday's edition of the Guardian newspaper,
here in London.
Seven days It was a week that saw Israel lurch to the edge of war. A
government minister was murdered. Reprisals were swift and fierce. And at
his home in Jerusalem, novelist David Grossman tried to write a short story.
This is his diary David Grossman Guardian Monday October 22, 2001
Saturday October 13, 2001 Saturday is a great day to get your bomb shelter
in order. As my wife and I try to evacuate all the junk that has piled up
there since the last time we feared a war (it wasn't that long ago, just a
year back, when the intifada broke out), my small daughter is busy making up
the list of friends she wants to invite to her birthday party. A weighty
question: should she invite Tali, who didn't invite her to her birthday? We
discuss the problem, trying to mobilise all the gravity it deserves, just so
that we can at least keep up an appearance of routine. The terrorist attacks
in the United States robbed us of our illusion of routine, of the
possibility of depending on some sort of logical continuity. A thought is
always hovering in the air: who knows where we will be a month from now? We
already know that our lives will not be as they were before September 11.
When the World Trade Centre towers collapsed, a kind of deep, long crack
appeared in the old reality. The muffled thunder of everything that might
burst through it can be heard through the crack - violence, cruelty,
fanaticism, madness. All is suddenly possible. The new situation has let
loose the human temptation to destroy, to raze, to dismember every living
thing, from the individual human body to society, law, state, and culture.
The wish that we might keep what we have, keep up a daily routine, suddenly
seems exposed and vulnerable. The effort to maintain some sort of routine
suddenly seems so touching, even heroic - to keep family, home, friends
together (we decide to invite Tali). Sunday I'm lucky that the suggestion
that I write this diary came as I was beginning a new story. If it weren't
for that I'm afraid that my diary would have been quite melancholy. Several
months have gone by since I finished my previous book, and I felt that not
writing was having a bad effect on me. When I'm not writing, I have a
feeling that I don't really understand a thing. That everything that happens
to me, all events and statements and encounters, exist only one beside the
other, without any full contact between them. But the minute I begin writing
a new story, everything suddenly gets intertwined into a single cord; every
event feeds into and charges all other events with vitality. Every sight I
see, every person I meet is a hint that has been sent to me, waiting for me
to decipher it. I'm writing a story about a man and a woman. That is, it
began as a short story about a man alone, but the woman he met, who was
supposed to be just a chance passer-by who listens to his story, suddenly
interests me no less than he does. I wonder if it is correct, from a
literary point of view, to get so involved with her. She changes the centre
of gravity of the story I had wanted. She disrupts the fragile balance that
the story requires. Yesterday night I woke up thinking that I ought to take
her out entirely and replace her with a different character, someone paler,
who wouldn't overshadow my story's protagonist. But in the morning, when I
saw her in writing, I just couldn't part with her. At least not until I get
to know her a little better. I wrote her all day. It is now almost
midnight. When I write a story, I try to go to sleep with one unfinished
idea, an idea I haven't got to the bottom of. The hope is that at night, in
my dreams, it will ripen. It is so exhilarating and rejuvenating to have a
story help extricate me from the dispassion that life in this disaster area
dooms me to. It's so good to feel alive again. Monday I keep reading
hostile remarks about Israel in the European press, even accusations that
Israel is responsible for the world's current state. It infuriates me to see
how eagerly some elements use Israel as a scapegoat. As if Israel is the
one, simple, almost exclusive reason that "justifies" the terrorism and
hatred now targeted against the west. It is also astounding that Israel was
not invited to participate in the anti-terrorism coalition, while Syria and
Iran (!) were. I feel that these and other events (the Durban conference
and its treatment of Israel; anti-Israeli Islamic incitement and racism) are
causing a profound realignment in Israelis' perceptions of themselves. Most
Israelis believed that they had somehow broken free of the tragedy of Jewish
fate. Now they feel that that tragedy is once again encompassing them. They
are suddenly aware of how far they still are from the promised land, how
widespread stereotypical attitudes about Jews still are, and how common
antisemitism is, hiding all too often behind a screen of (ostensibly
legitimate) extremist anti-Israel sentiments. I am highly critical of
Israel's behaviour, but in recent weeks I have felt that the media's
hostility to it has not been fed solely by the actions of the Sharon
government. A person feels such things deeply, under the skin. I feel them
with a kind of shiver that percolates down to the cells of my most primeval
memories, to the times when "the Jew" was not perceived as a human being of
flesh and blood but was rather always a symbol of something other. A
parable, or a metaphor that makes one's skin crawl. Last night I heard the
host of a BBC programme end his interview with an Arab spokesman with the
following remark (I'm quoting from memory): "So you say that Israel is the
cause of the troubles that are poisoning the world today. I would like to
say good night to our studio audience." Tuesday For two weeks already
there has been a decline of sorts in the level of violence between Israel
and the Palestinians. The heart, so accustomed to disappointments, still
refuses to be tempted into optimism, but the calm allows me to get absorbed
in writing without pangs of conscience. The woman in my story is becoming
more and more of a presence. I haven't the slightest idea where she is
leading me. There is something bitter and unbounded about her that frightens
and attracts me. There is always that great expectation at the beginning of
every story - that the story will surprise me. More than that, I want it to
actually betray me. To drag me by the hair and absolutely against my will
into the places that are most dangerous and most frightening for me. To
destabilise and dissolve all the comfortable protections of my life. To
deconstruct me, my relations with my children, my wife, and my parents; with
my country, with the society I live in, with my language. It is no wonder
that it is so hard to get into a new story. The soul is alarmed. The soul -
like every living thing - seeks to continue in its movement, in its routine.
Why should it take part in this process of self-destruction? What is bad
about the way it is? Maybe this is why it takes me a such a long time to
write a novel. As if in the first months I have to remove layer after layer
of cataract from my recalcitrant soul. Wednesday "The only one smiling is
the one who hasn't heard the latest news." So wrote Bertolt Brecht. At 7.30
in the morning the radio reports the attack on Israeli government minister
Rechavam Ze'evi. He was one of the most extreme Israeli politicians
regarding the Palestinians. I never agreed with his opinions, but such an
act of terrorism is horrible and has no justification. That is also my
opinion when Israel murders a Palestinian political figure. Israel, and
every other country has, of course, the right to defend itself when a
terrorist bearing a "ticking bomb" is on his way to attack. Rechavam Ze'evi,
despite his views, was not such a terrorist. The heart fills with
apprehension - who knows how the situation will deteriorate now. Over the
last two days there was relative calm, and we were almost bold enough to
resume breathing with both lungs. Now, all at once, it's as if the trap has
closed in on us once again. I am reminded of how easily we can be overcome
by the terrible lightness of death (as I write I have the feeling that I am
documenting the last days before a great catastrophe). Still, last night I
had a small, private moment of comfort. As on every Tuesday, I studied with
my hevruta. It is two friends, a man and a woman, with whom I study Talmud,
Bible, and Kafka and Agnon. The hevruta is an ancient Jewish institution. It
is a way of studying together and sharpening the intellect through debate
and disputation. During our years of study together we have developed a kind
of private language of associations and memories. I am the non-religious one
of the three, but I have already had 10 years of vibrant, exciting and
stormy dialogue with these soul friends. When we study, I become intimately
connected to the millennia-long chain of Jewish thinkers and creators. I
reach down into the foundations of the Hebrew language and Jewish thought. I
suddenly understand the code hidden in the deep structure of Israel's social
and political behavior today. Within the sense of confusion and loss that
encompasses me, I suddenly feel I belong. Thursday It is all falling
apart. Israeli forces are entering the Palestinian city of Ramallah. A day
of combat. Six Palestinians are killed, a 10-year-old girl among them.
Another of the victims was a senior official of Fatah, the majority
Palestinian faction, who was responsible for the murder of several Israelis.
An Israeli citizen was killed by Palestinian gunfire coming from the village
of another, previously killed, Fatah operative. The fragile ceasefire is no
more, and who knows how long it will take to reinstate it. I call one of the
people I can share my gloom with at such a moment. Ahmed Harb, a Palestinian
writer from Ramallah, a friend. He tells me about the shooting he hears. He
also tells of the optimism that prevailed among the Palestinians until the
day before yesterday, before Ze'evi's murder. "Look how the extremists on
both sides are cooperating," he says. "And look how successful they are..."
On Tuesday Israel lifted its siege of Ramallah for the first time in weeks.
After Ze'evi's assassination the roadblocks returned. I ask him if there is
something I can do to help him, and he laughs: "We just want to move. To be
in motion. To leave the city and come back... " Between the news bulletins,
among the ambulance sirens and the helicopters that relentlessly circle
above, I try to isolate myself, to battle to write my story. Not as a way of
turning my back on reality - reality is here, no matter what; it is like an
acid that eats away any protective coating - but rather out of a sense that,
in the current situation, the very act of writing becomes an act of protest.
An act of self-definition within a situation that literally threatens to
obliterate me. When I write, or imagine, or create even one new phrase, it
is as if I have succeeded in overcoming, for a brief time, the arbitrariness
and tyranny of circumstance. For a moment, I am not a victim. Friday The
week is coming to an end. Its events were so acute that I did not have time
to write about many important things, dear to me: about my son, who is
writing a surrealist play for his high school drama club; about the soccer
game we watched together on television, Manchester United v Deportivo la
Coruña (with Barthez's outrageous blunders); about my daughter, who is
conducting a scientific study of her parakeet; about my eldest son, who is
in the army and about whom I am anxious each and every moment. Also about
our 25th wedding anniversary this week, celebrated this time with much
concern - will we succeed in preserving this fragile and vulnerable family
structure in the years to come? So many cherished things and private
moments get lost because of fear and violence. So much creative power, so
much imagination and thought, are today directed at destruction and death
(or at guarding against destruction and death). Sometimes there is a sense
that most of our energy gets invested in guarding the boundaries of our
existence. I am afraid that if peace does not prevail here we will all
gradually become like a suit of armour that has no knight inside. ·
Translated by Haim Watzman.
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<http://www.guardianunlimited.co.uk/credits.html> Guardian Unlimited ©
Guardian Newspapers Limited 2001
November 6, 2001
Boker Tov!!
Here is exciting news from Allison Adler(Madrichim class of 1981).
We're sooooooooo proud of her!
Love,
Eemah
All right everybody --
I'm sure you've all been dutifully watching every episode of "Just Shoot Me" so far this season. However, if you want a super thrill, check it out this this week, written by Allison Adler. 9:30 Thursday on NBC.
Also - don't forget that "Family Guy" debuts this week as well. It fills the delightful 8:00 Thurday on FOX time slot. No competition from "Survivor" or "Friends." The episode I wrote will air a week from Thursday -- in case anyone is interested.
If you watch, thanks. If you don't, that's cool too but please don't tell me you only watched just to see my credit. It's too annoying.
Love to you all.
xxoo aba
November 9, 2001
Hi and Shabbat Shalom!
Well...The big move to our new Temple has been scheduled for the weekend of Thanksgiving....Wow! It is sooooo exciting!
When you come to visit...my room is 305. It's on the same level as the library and it is right above the preschool playground! Let me know if you'd like to help me unpack ....(just kidding)
Remember....Mitzvot make the world a better place!! Just a reminder to click on the following sites each day!
Thehungersite.com
Thebreastcancersite.com
Therainforestsite.com
Puleeze send me news!!
And....let me know if you have been in touch with old (or young) Madrichim friends...
I have 2 lists...Age 31 and younger and 32 and older...Let me know If you'd like a copy of either...Or...If you'd like to find a particular someone...
Have restful lovely Shabbat and a good week!
Love,
Eemah
Hello everyone,
For those that have not heard the news yet - this San
Diego girl is picking her stuff up and moving it to
Chicago..........yes, I know it's cold and snows
there.
I have accepted a job with the Parent Company I work
for now - and am joing the Home Depot Mid West Support
Center just after Thanksgiving.
I'll send out all the new particulars (phone and
address in Chicago) later (ok - when I have them).
Of course, I can always be reached by e-mail and cell
phone.
Karen (Levy)
_
To take action on pending legislation and receive more information and analysis, visit our Web site at www.aipac.org
Israel Withdraws as Palestinian Attacks Continue
Administration Officials Press Arafat to End Violence
U.S. Targets Palestinian Terror Groups
New On Our Site - America Attacked
Israel Withdraws as Palestinian Attacks Continue
Israel today withdrew from the fourth of seven Palestinian towns it entered to arrest known terrorists and prevent attacks as Palestinian violence continues, The New York Times reported. Yesterday, a would-be suicide bomber on his way to Jerusalem was stopped by Israeli security forces before he could carry out his attack, and one Israeli soldier was killed by gunfire in the West Bank. Elsewhere in Gaza, Palestinians launched attacks using a mortar and anti-tank grenades. Since the Palestinian campaign of terror began last year, 195 Israelis-141 of them civilians-have been killed in more than 9,000 attacks. Get the latest details about the Palestinian violence.
Administration Officials Press Arafat to End Violence
Senior-level administration officials have in recent days been pressing Palestinian leader Yasir Arafat to stop the violence. Deputy Assistant Secretary of State David Satterfield last week described the Palestinian violence as "an ongoing process of calculated terror and escalation," and said the Palestinians had delivered "good words, excellent rhetoric, but very little in terms of the substance of confronting" terrorist groups. Secretary of State Colin Powell yesterday repeated a call to Arafat to end the campaign of terror: "What we need to do is to end the violence, bring that period of over 13 months of conflict to an end." Meanwhile, the U.S. Ambassador to Israel Daniel Kurtzer said Arafat must decide "where he stands on questions relating to terrorism," and said that "words are not enough to prove that one is against terrorism-it requires actions." Members of Congress have also been criticizing the Palestinian leadership for its failure to end terrorism and expressing support for Israel. Learn more about the latest expressions of Congressional support.
U.S. Targets Palestinian Terror Groups
The State Department last week added Palestinian terrorist groups including Hamas, Hezbollah, and the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine to a presidential order that instructs foreign banks and financial institutions to freeze terrorists' accounts or face American sanctions. "AIPAC applauds the significant steps the Bush administration has taken to widen the scope of its ongoing war on terrorism," AIPAC said in a statement released Friday. "These measures clearly demonstrate the administration's strong commitment to waging a comprehensive war against terrorism." In another step taken last week against Palestinian terrorism, Attorney General Ashcroft asked Secretary of State Powell to designate as "terrorist organizations" groups linked to Palestinian Authority Chairman Yasir Arafat.
New On Our Site - America Attacked
A new section on our Web site features editorials and op-eds from our country's premier newspapers calling for a comprehensive war on terrorism, and examining the issues related to the terrorism facing Israel and the United States. Visit this featured page to read what some of America's most important columnists and newspapers have to say.
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