He wanted to change their marriage, but her heart had frozen long ago
I’m trying. Very hard. But there’s a thick gray fog that makes me unsure of where I stand
In a machlokes such as this, everyone is wrong
This is my avodah, I tell myself, as I rotate between apple juice, water, apple juice, water
“What’s her Jewish name? She needs a Jewish name,” the rabbi whispered
Would she still be a farmer’s wife if they didn’t work the farm?