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| Family Tempo |

A Different Mother     

They were my siblings — yet we’d grown up in different families

ON

Mondays, when I’d arrive home from school, the smell of cabbage overtook me the moment I opened the door.

Quietly, I would hang up my coat and briefcase, then go to the kitchen and wash my hands with soap.

Quietly, I would sit down at the table and my mother would serve me a steaming bowl of cabbage soup. Quietly, I would eat.

We did everything quietly. I mean, of course we spoke. My mother would ask me how my day was, what was for homework, what else was doing. Often she’d also share something she’d done that day, a store she’d shopped at, a friend she’d met. We even usually had some music playing in the background. Soft music. Calm music. Quiet music.

It was always quiet in our house, simply because there was nobody around to make any noise.

Adults don’t make noise.

And one little girl, with an even temperament and everything in her life catered to her in a soft, gentle way, doesn’t make noise either.

When I was done eating, I would do my homework, and then I got to choose. Stay home and play — or go to the Kreindlers.

Staying home meant I would slip into our beautifully organized toy closet, burrow into my pink bean bag, and keep myself occupied with any of our many books, toys, dolls, or games. I liked spending time in the toy closet. It was cozy and comfortable, my private little niche where my dolls were my playmates and I could allow my imagination to take me to all sorts of interesting places. I could sit there for hours — calmly, contently. Quietly.

At the Kreindlers, it was never quiet. They had nine children. The oldest was a girl, then they had two boys, then Shiffy, who was my age, followed by a boy, and then another four girls.

Most of the Kreindlers’ toys, books, and games were broken, torn, or missing pieces. Their playroom was always a huge mess. Their house was messier in one day than a year’s worth of messes in my house. Whenever I went to the Kreindlers, I returned home with a headache. Their house was fun, but also a little dizzying.

Excerpted from Mishpacha Magazine. To view full version, SUBSCRIBE FOR FREE or LOG IN.

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