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I Have a Dream

By Chaya Wayntraub | September 17, 2024

Fruits and vegetables would fill every breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and no one — no one — will utter a word of complaint

I have a dream that somewhere, someday, in the hills of Jerusalem, my children will sit nicely around the Shabbos table. There would be clean little boys and girls, teens, and betweens, all sitting together in peaceful harmony. There will be silence so loud it will be deafening and all will sit enraptured as my husband captivates us with priceless words of wisdom. “Please” and “Thank you” will be on the tongues of all. And no matter how many cups of dye-filled sugar drinks would be poured, not a single drop will spill on my plastic-free, sparkling tablecloth.

I have a dream that somewhere, somehow, white sugar and white flour will be abolished for eternity from my kitchen. No more pretzels and wafers for school snacks. No more bread and chocolate spread packed in backpacks and lunch bags. In their place would be a new kind of food, and it will be eaten by all with no prejudice of age, gender, or weight. Fruits and vegetables would fill every breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and no one — no one — will utter a word of complaint.

I have a dream that laughter and joy will ring through the air. That every man, woman, and child in my home has a place for everything, and everything will be in its place. Gone would be the days of white socks again and again for the simple reason that the others were lacking their mates. Gone would be the days when the school bus honks again and again and I find myself crawling under beds and couches searching hopelessly, searching helplessly, for a priceless black Nike shoe. Homework would never again be wrongly stuffed into the graveyard called the junk drawer. Never again would it be shoved into the back together with car keys, phonebooks, and hairbrushes of all shapes and sizes.

I have a dream that my laundry will mingle freely in the hamper. Each will get proper care, proper cleaning, proper drying, and hanging appropriate to its care instructions. No more grayish, drab, button-down shirts. No more wrinkled dark pants. No more T-shirts shrunk to unwearable sizes. There will be sprays for every color, for every placket, for every sleeve. Shirts will be starched and pressed to perfection: white, pink, or any other shade.

I have a dream that bedtime will be sacred. Love will fill the air as hugs and kisses are given to children neatly tucked into bed. Bathtime will be for all — no matter how tired and kvetchy the child, no matter weddings, PTA, dishes, and that Daddy’s supper is burning. Teeth will be brushed up, down, and side; teeth flossed; toothpaste cap neatly replaced. Clothing will never be thrown on the floor, and perfume-scented pajamas would fill the air.

But, if my home is to become a great home, then I know that I must work with my heart to let true freedom ring. Freedom to accept what is. Freedom to keep trying without looking out yonder to the neighbors’ spick-and-span home. Freedom to find joy in myself, and to laugh at my dreams, but still to keep dreaming.

So I say, let freedom ring! Let freedom ring in every smile given. Let freedom ring in every dust-filled corner of my home. And let freedom ring in every dust-filled corner of my heart.

This is my hope. And this is the faith that holds me from day to day.

Note: This speech was written in honor of the historic anniversary of the 100,000th load of laundry, 1,000,000th tantrum at bedtime, and the 10,000th bowl of cereal served for dinner.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 911)

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Fruits and vegetables would fill every breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and no one — no one — will utter a word of complaint

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