It is currently 6 a.m. here in Israel on the second day of Sukkot. Last night, Shuie spoke to a rabbi who told him that if we only wanted to keep one day of Yom Tov, we were able to do so, even though we’re planning on returning to America. So, last night we called it a day and we are now celebrating Chol HaMoed (the intermediate days) like everyone else in Israel. This is a huge relief for me since we have a whole bunch of guests coming for lunch (including 3 kids) and it was going to be very tricky figuring out what to feed them using only my stovetop. Not that we don’t have a fridge stocked with leftovers, but what can I say? I’m a typical Jewish mother. We’re keeping it simple this afternoon and having a pizza party in the Sukkah, saving me from cooking and everyone else from another day of heavy, multi-course meals.

Our first day of Sukkot was very nice. Friday night we had Nechemiah, Shloimie and a bunch of first-year guys from Kesher, Nechemiah’s yeshiva. Kesher is not your typical yeshiva; it’s really for guys who are a little lost and wrestling with Judaism (and in some cases, themselves) and Kesher gives them an opportunity to reconnect. The guys at my table were a little rougher (Nechemiah called them “hoodlums”), but it was obvious that all of them had a story. One guy especially caught my attention. He came from LA and walked in with a leather jacket and greasy hair, right out of some mod-emo MTV video. At first I wasn’t sure what to make of him since he was very quiet and his few comments were a little offbeat. But as the meal went on, we started talking about what I did for a living. When I mentioned that I was a special educator, he lit up and said, “My family is very grateful for people like you”. It turns out he has a five-year-old brother with Autism. He and I got into a great discussion about the prevalence of Autism and how having a child with special need can change the whole dynamic of a family. It was clear, watching him talk about his brother, that he had a very sensitive heart. It was another lesson for me that I am selling myself and others way short if I judge only by appearances. Everyone has something that touches their heart; you just have to ask the right questions to get there.

Having a table full of ragtag guys made me very happy because it reminded me of my mother. In her house, everyone was welcome. She loved having a full table of guests and if people were having trouble, she always made her home (and herself) available to them. I remember the night after her funeral, we all arrived home exhausted and emotionally spent. It was Friday night, so Shabbos was coming, and all we wanted was to sit down to a quiet dinner as a family. Suddenly the doorbell rang and in walked some of our extended family. The doorbell rang again, and in walked some of Shira’s friends. Before long the house was filled with people. Shira and I looked and each other and said, “We could be annoyed by this, but this is totally what Mom would have wanted.” I like to think that by making anyone and everyone welcome in my home, I’m following in her footsteps.

For yesterday’s lunch we had my friend Rachel and her husband Daniel and Yonah’s BFF, Shmuel Yaakov, who had a blast getting dirty in our garden. He and Yonah played beautifully in the Sukkah together (Yonah shared all of his toys, per our agreement). Rachel also brought along two single girls who were students at Nishmat, a school in Jerusalem I considered going to. I got to talk with them a little about the school and they told me that some of the women there bring their babies while they’re learning. Needless to say, that got me very very excited. Once zman (literally, “time”, but referring to the learning semester) starts up again, I may go check it out. One of the girls, Dalia, was also from the Boston area, so we had quite a bit to talk about. The orthodox women’s community in Boston is a very unique one; philosophically, women tend to be a little more progressive. They will make certain prayers that are traditionally reserved for men, and count themselves as a group to lead their own services. Many women have also started creating their own ceremonies and rituals to mark events in their lives that were overlooked by the ancient rabbis: Rosh Chodesh (new month) celebrations, marking a return to the world after birth, the onset of menses and menopause. This philosophy appeals to me personally (remnants of my conservative background, probably) because of the ability it affords me to be more proactive, to belong to a group of women, and to make the experience of womanhood a more ritualized and spiritual one. I used to resent the ancient rabbis for not giving us more to do, but I read something that gave me a lot of perspective on it: The rabbis were not underestimating or marginalizing the experience of women, they just were unable to access the experience of being a woman adequately enough to mark it properly. There is no law saying that I can’t create my own rituals (within the context of Jewish law), or pray in my own way (in fact, many rabbis encourage prayer in your own language); the idea is that I can educate myself about the laws and customs and then take responsibility for my own spiritual life by building a personal practice within that framework.

Last night for dinner we had my chevruta (learning partner) Michal and her husband, Michael. They’re a funky couple from L.A. (though she’s originally from South Africa) who have been married for 10 months. Michael and Shuie hit it off immediately (Michal and I were fast friends as well), and we all stayed up talking until 11 p.m. One of the interesting things I find about talking with other ba’alei teshuva (people who were not born religious but came to it later) is that they will sometimes have the kind of life experience that has given them a sense of trust and reliance on Gd that is so much deeper than that of people who were raised orthodox. Spiritual awareness is, from my perspective, an experience, not a theory. While I can sit in a classroom for twenty years and learn the idea that Gd is taking care of me, I won’t understand it the way I would if I experience true Siata DiShmayah (Help from Above) after being in a dark or desperate situation. This is not to say that there are not FFB’s (frum [orthodox] from birth) out there who don’t have amazing emunah (faith), but that ba’alei teshuva may have different kinds of opportunities to have a spiritual experience.

Yonah is being especially grumpy this morning because he is way overtired and I’m not letting him take a nap yet (Mean Mommy…). I need to go play with him before he has a complete meltdown. To those of you in the States still celebrating Sukkot, Chag Sameach, and may you feel Hashem’s presence with you when you sit in the Sukkah.