Optimism? It clashed with my inculcated weltanschauung, that of straight-up fear

“Ayin hara!” I hiss at my husband.

“I’m just saying—” he attempts to respond, but I snap, “No saying! It’s not ‘just’ saying! Saying is enough!”

I have come by this fear of talking honestly. While Babi would fish out her bundle of red yarn to tie around the chubby wrists of her infant eineklach, that wasn’t Zeidy’s anti-ayin plan of attack. His was based in speech. He would never gush or fuss. It wasn’t that Zeidy rarely talked, but his words were carefully measured. Any chatter that could be perceived as boasting was verboten. Even when his daughters were dating, when most praise their offspring to all and sundry, the most he would admit in their favor was their height.

Some perceive ayin hara as an independent, malicious entity that can wreak havoc, which can be neutralized by a variety of rituals. Zeidy saw it differently: Brachah comes in quiet places. Everything is dependent on the Bashefer. There should no confident assumptions about the future, for that is not up to mere mortals. We’re all better off keeping our mouths closed.

Zeidy was troubled by the modern trend of public praise at simchahs. A bar mitzvah, in his view, is a time to instill in the boy/man the importance of his actions going forward, not to list his stellar, shining qualities.