“But...but what about a succah?” Yoni wailed. “How come we had to come to this horrible little town?”

Yoni trudged home, kicking the fallen leaves with his scruffy sneakers. The chill in the air was unmistakable, and Yoni heaved a deep sigh. How were they ever going to get through this Succos? Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur had been hard enough. With another deep sigh, Yoni turned up the path to his house and let himself in.

It was warm inside. For the first time in a long time, there was actually a really good smell wafting invitingly from the kitchen. Yoni shrugged off his backpack and hurriedly washed his hands — by now, the habit was so entrenched that even with Dovi safely in the hospital, he washed anyway. He rushed into the kitchen and was delighted to find Ma standing at the counter. “Ma!” Yoni whooped.

“Hey, Yoni.” His mother turned around with a smile that hardly even sagged at the corners. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“You’re making supper!” Yoni exclaimed.

“Meatballs,” Ma said. “Your favorite.”

Yoni fought the emotions inside and pumped his fist in the air instead. “Thanks, Ma, you’re the best.” Then he looked at her questioningly. “Who’s with Dovi?”

“Bubby Berkowitz came in for Succos, and she decided to spend her first afternoon here with Dovi,” Ma said. “I was so glad to have a chance to be here when you came home.”

“Will Dovi be home by Yom Tov?” Yoni asked hopefully.

Ma’s smile sagged a little more. “It doesn’t look like it, Yoni,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“But...but what about a succah?” Yoni wailed. “How come we had to come to this horrible little town? I bet that’s why Dovi’s not getting better. Back in New York this would never happen! Dovi never stayed for such a long time! And also,” Yoni blinked back tears, “back home, the hospital had a succah for Dovi! I still can’t understand why there’s no hospital succah here! How is Dovi going to have Succos without a succah?”