Building Dreams: Chapter 36
| November 1, 2022It was only Mama’s voice in my head whispering: Slow down. Think about what you’re saying

Elka
“Elka?”
The voice broke into my dream. I opened my eyes to the strange bedroom with the dark, heavy furniture and for a moment I had no idea where I was. Then it all came back to me — the train ride, the wagon, the room. I was in Bubbe’s apartment.
“Elka?” The door creaked open just a bit, and now the voice came through a little louder. Bubbe.
“Hmmm?” I mumbled sleepily, rolling over to see if anyone had prepared negel vasser at the side of my bed.
“I’m up, Bubbe,” I added. There was no negel vasser near my bed. I scanned the room. There. In the corner on the little side table was a white bowl and matching porcelain cup.
“Good,” Bubbe said, still speaking through the crack in the door, “I thought maybe I would take you to the park today. There’s a really beautiful one near the water, and we can walk and see the city a little and then have a picnic lunch. What do you think?”
I walked to the door of the room and pulled it open. “Yes!” I agreed enthusiastically. This was what I had been waiting for. A trip.
“Come, dear,” Bubbe said, putting a warm hand gently onto my shoulders, “I have delicious oatmeal waiting for you and then we’ll pack up to go.”
The oatmeal was sweet and warm and the steam hit my face as I blew on each bite. Bubbe had even added cooked apples. I couldn’t remember the last time I was able to just sit for so much time with someone who loved me. Mama was always busy. Working, taking care of us, cleaning, sewing — she never stopped. But Bubbe just sat there, listening to me as I chattered about the trip and school and all the things that were different in Riga.
“Okay, Elka,” Bubbe said, a laughing smile playing on her lips, “let’s see what you say after our trip today. How about you go daven, and I’ll pack us a picnic lunch, and then we’ll head out.”
I nodded eagerly and skipped to the bookshelf where I took out a siddur and davened. It was only Mama’s voice in my head whispering: Slow down. Think about what you’re saying that kept me from speeding through the words so that we could leave already.
“Bubbe,” I said, giving the siddur a kiss and walking into the kitchen to help pack up our lunch, “do you know any Hebrew?”
“A little,” Bubbe said, adding a bottle of water to the bag with our food. I made a note to be careful with the bag. It wouldn’t help anyone if the bottle smashed and drenched our sandwiches.
“Why do you ask?”
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