
Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 4 of a new online serial novel, Night Flower, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters.
Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications.
In the end she said yes. She needed to make every effort to preserve the remnants of the regular, successful, vivacious Chaiky. She could not allow herself to become more of the confused, tense Chaiky who had a hard time noticing small details. When was the last time she’d stood before an audience and spoken? More than half a year ago, when they’d planned a Rosh Chodesh party at the community center and the guest speaker had cancelled at the last minute. Elka had given Chaiky the job of taking over.
“I know you can speak powerfully,” she’d said, not giving Chaiky an opportunity to decline. “So let’s go—we may as well enjoy your talents!”
And they’d enjoyed, baruch Hashem. Shlomo had prepared a nice idea about the parshah for her, and she’d connected it to something current that had happened that month. What month had it been? She couldn’t remember right now. It was hard to remember what she had even spoken about; it was hard to remember what the Chaiky of those days—whose life was flowing along so smoothly—had thought and felt. But she did remember that the speech had been a success.
And now she’d agreed to speak for an audience again. So what? When she would have some free time tomorrow or the next day, she’d open a Chumash with Ramban and look for a fitting concept that was easy to grasp, and that older women could also relate to and enjoy. Keep Reading…
Posted by anamericanjew
Do all boys like scary stories, or is it just my kids?
Shalom, friends,
“Mommy, guess what!” cries the little girl as she flings herself off the school bus and into her mother’s waiting arms.
A class of bright-eyed, sweet young women graduates high school. Standing there on stage, in their matching caps and gowns, their hair carefully blow-dried, and their faces shining with their dreams for their futures (and okay, maybe some make-up, too), it’s hard to think that those futures could be anything but a bed of roses.
You know how little kids are always trying to act big? Going to sleep late like their big sibs, using adult language even if they don’t quite understand what they’re saying, dressing up in their Mommy’s high heels and Tatty’s black hat… I even have a little guy who so badly wants to be seen as a grown-up that he forces himself to eat chopped liver like the adults at the Shabbos table—even though the poor kid can’t stand chopped liver! (Don’t worry, he spits it out when he thinks no one is looking!)
One of my English teachers in high school would say that she could only give an A plus to an essay that either made her laugh or cry. I would definitely give the highest grade to 