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.