HOME & FAMILY

They lived in the same building; their two oldest girls were in the same class and the babies went to the same babysitter.

Beyond the Wall
by Razel Foner

Liba's mouth twitched with disgust as she glared at the wall. How DO people LIVE like that? she wondered. Unfortunately, it was her own apartment she was surveying, and she knew exactly how they lived like that...

Where is the Dustpan?
by Pennee Lauders

There are certain things which one never misplaces. The front door, the couch in the living room, the kitchen table.

Chessed in Your Home
by Sue Shapiro

We all know that chessed is one of the pillars upon which the world stands. How can we raise children who will take delight in finding opportunities to perform chessed for others?

Dieting
by A. Ross

After Tu Bishvat, before Purim and Pesach... When shall we begin? Tomorrow?

NONPROSAIC PROSE
Redemption
by Sara Gutfreund

This is a story that has no beginning. No end. It is a story that I hold within me and yet, it is a story that climbs beyond me. I can feel its contours, its colors and its songs aching for words. And I know that a story needs words, but somehow, I cannot fit this story into the vessels of words. It spills over and threatens to rewrite itself. Because it is a story that holds infinite gestures.

Keep Smiling

Short inspirational pieces by Rabbi Avrohom Schwartz, Kiryat Sefer, author of A Handful of Light, Hearts on Fire and other works on Mussar and Hashkofa

Your Medical Questions Answered!
by Joseph B. Leibman, MD

Mrs. W. writes about reducing stress. Physicians are very overstressed so they may be the wrong ones to ask. However, proper amount of sleep and relaxation are important. One should identify what relaxes him and not overdo work or relaxation. Stress does increase the danger of heart disease and stroke.

POET'S CORNER

Flowers Arrest Me

by Ruth Lewis

Flowers arrest me
whenever I encounter them.
Any flowers, anywhere --
parks, vases, window boxes,
even paintings, even flower scarves.
Maybe wildflowers, most of all,
springing out at me, roadside,
from such unlikely trash-strewn empty lots.

Today, I saw cream-petalled wildflowers,
by the way,
centered with milky, silky tassels
tipped, dipped in lavender
on low, woody bramble branches
purply pink.

In a friend's small yard
where last week -- nothing,
long slender flower fingers,
red flames, licking upwards,
crimson fires nestled in large, pointy leaves.

Walking home
cascading over gold-stoned walls,
pale blue-lilac penny-petals
puddle the sidewalk. I wade through.
Crossing the highway,
rushing through an island of cool, lush green,
and snowball flowers, purest white.

Flowers arrest me, everywhere,
Just as they should.

Encounter

by Ruth Lewis

As she strode forth into
the morning sun,
she encountered suddenly
putt-putting opposite her, up the street,
a motorized wheelchair
in which sat a cheerful, one-legged man.

Her pace slowed,
posture slumping imperceptibly
from bold confidence
into humble gratitude.
She wished she could tell him, "Sorry."
She wished she could tell him, "Thanks."

Lines...

by Drora Matlofsky

Clouds in the sky,
Waves in the sea.
A rocky coastline,
A zigzagging lane.

Here and there a few houses,
A barn or a castle,
a hedge,
A river...

Curly line,
Wavy line,
Whimsical line,
Flowing line,
A few short lines,
This is how the world was created.

We spend our lives following lines,
Crossing lines,
Waving to the parallel,
Stopping to talk to a friend
Who is walking towards what we have left.

We stand in line,
Wondering: Am I in the right line?
Does it go where I want to go?
Where do I want to go?

Lines wind their way, turning east, turning west,
Looking at life from all sides.
Signposts are just signposts;
This village is called Y.
This road is bumpy.

Sometimes they give you bad advice,
Such as: Vote for the Communist Party,
Or: Drink Coca Cola.
Lines can tell lies,
Such as: You can lose weight without effort.

Don't look at signposts.
They tell you Katamon is called Gonen.
Look for the lines
Between the trees,
On the old woman's face.
Lines are signs.

I'll tell you a secret:
It doesn't matter which line you choose
To follow -- or not to follow,
To leave, to jump across.
They used to say all roads lead to Rome.
That's not true.
They lead to everywhere.
They are possibilities,
Seemingly endless choices.

Standing still is also a choice.
You can choose to pause
And watch the harmony of the lines.
How they build a world.
How they are the world.