I smile at the A+, but why, why did I pick some relative stranger in a far-off town as the object of my 15-year-old admiration?
It’s a boring place for a kid, but my kids are always begging to come to work with me. They know about “Mommy’s snack drawer”
My not-so-subtle message — that I did not want to hear any more — got through. Everyone backed off. I gathered up Aviva and her paraphernalia
It’s strange, raising children to be part of a culture that’s foreign to me. It’s strange to be a foreigner in my children’s culture
But I wonder, as I take three steps back, and three steps forward, facing the holiest site we have left, why I’m not feeling enough
I can’t shake my fear of rejection. With graduation, I believed that I’d waved goodbye to the inferiority complexes that had invaded my younger self
She’s not an unpleasant walking companion, and though her short-term memory is nearly gone, she remembers the most delightful happenings of yesteryear
I sensed their quiet disapproval of my withdrawal. Although I knew I was doing what I needed, it still hurt
My mother drove and drove, down the winding highway, while thunder cracked and rain skittered off the windows… and then past the storm to sun and perfect sky
They are trusting, these girls, baring vulnerabilities, some in front of the group, some just on paper
Why else would Hashem take the trouble to arrange such wild circumstances to ensure I buy this book?