Two Roads Diverged...

(I did not take these photos of the goslings or Canada goose. I had my camera phone and no memory in it to take photos at the time of the viewing.)

Sometimes I'm left to wonder why I do what I do, make the decisions I make. Hashgacha Pratis or Divine Intervention is, I guess, what makes it so.

Today was the simplest of those examples.

When I took my youngest to school, I also took Max along so that I could play ball with him and let him run around for a while in the park behind the school. About twenty minutes later I got in the car to drive home, and at an intersection, I decided to drive to another park not that far away and let him run there for a few more minutes and maybe get myself a coffee at a nearby coffee place.

When I reached that park, I saw several dogs running around and their owners milling about. I didn't know that dogs meet there regularly, as they do in some neighborhood nearby parks. A couple of the dogs, although in the distance, looked familiar and as we got closer, I saw that these were indeed two dogs that I met a couple of times last week and earlier this week...in the park behind my kids' school. This time they were with "the father" and I've met the dogs with "the mother."

I thought, "Gee...why did I decide to go to this second park (I never go there without my kids and/or husband in tow, and certainly not in the early morning) today of all days?" I just took it to be a coincidence, but I knew Max was happy with the two pals he'd befriended last week in his more familiar park.

On the drive home, I pass a pond, which is surrounded by a millionaire's row of traditional and ultra-modern homes. Oftentimes, I turn off the main street and take "driving tours" with my kids through these three or four streets to look at the architecture and decide which house we each like best. As I neared the pond, I suddenly decided that instead of going on the main street, I'll turn off and just go down and around the pond to look at the houses on my own. As I was turning onto the side street, I wondered why I'd suddenly had this notion -- was it a good thing I was taking a little detour, even wondering if perhaps I was going to avoid an accident or something by doing so. A few seconds later, I knew WHY exactly I'd turned off the main street. There, just ahead of my car, two Canada geese were ambling across the road -- one leading, the other in the rear of a family of five small, fuzzy goslings, two of which had to take a break for a short time, settling on the dirt road. I stopped the car, exclaimed "Awwww...." and felt like crying, just for the beauty of it all. I wondered if this was the first time they'd left the pond together as a family to explore the world, and I was witness to it, having been there just at the right moment.

I figured Hashem gave me a beautiful bonus this morning in this scene spread out ahead of me. I love nature and it's not every day that I get to see such a natural family scene "in the neighborhood."

I silently thanked Hashem for taking me off the beaten path for a few moments.

I hope you get to witness beauty -- natural beauty -- in your lives, and that you have the chance to appreciate it to its utmost.

Shabbat Shalom

Scenes from a Childhood

If you click on this image, you can see it close up.

My brother made this pencil sketch and gave it to my husband and I as a wedding gift. He got the shading and details just perfect and took several months to produce this fine piece of artwork. My husband and I, knowing my brother's talent, were so naive and just thought it took a few days to create!

I was about four years old in the picture with my brothers, and the photos was taken at a schoolyard down the street from the house where I grew up and where my parents still live.

The schoolyard featured some large and lovely trees -- willows and birch trees. I used to take the branches that had fallen onto the ground and "whittle" -- remove the bark from the branches. I'm holding a branch in that, and both my brothers are holding smaller branches. My brother the artist also drew a pencil into the picture -- held in his hand -- reminding me forever that he was the artist.

Personal gifts are the best kind. Of course, this wedding gift depicts my brothers and I, and has nothing to do with my husband. But then again, seeing the artwork every day on our living room wall must remind my husband that I was once a cute little kid who grew into a warm and loving wife and mother...or so I'd hope!

Upon Hanging Up the Phone

My father: "...Bye-bye. Thanks for calling. It's nice to hear your voice."

Me: "Bye, Dad. I love you."

After hanging up the phone, I say aloud: "It's nicer to hear yours!!"

A Page out of History

I received the following e-mail today:


At the turn of the twentieth century, two of the wealthiest and most famous men in America were a pair of Jewish brothers named Nathan and Isidor Straus. Owners of R.H. Macy's Department Store and founders of the A&S (Abraham & Straus) chain, the brothers were multimillionaires, renowned for their philanthropy and social activism.

In 1912, the brothers and their wives were touring Europe, when Nathan, the more ardent Zionist of the two, impulsively said one day, "Hey, why don't we hop over to Palestine?" Israel wasn't the tourist hotspot then that it is today. Its population was ravaged by disease, famine, and poverty; but the two had a strong sense of solidarity with their less fortunate brethren, and they also wanted to see the health and welfare centers they had endowed with their millions. However, after a week spent touring, Isidor Straus had had enough.

"How many camels, hovels, and yeshivas can you see? It's time to go," Isidor decreed with edgy impatience in his voice. But Nathan refused to heed his brother's imperious command. It wasn't that he was oblivious to the hardships around him; it was precisely because of them that he wanted to stay.

As he absorbed firsthand the vastness of the challenges his fellow Jews were coping with, he felt the burden of responsibility. "We can't leave now," he protested. "Look how much work has to be done here. We have to help. We have the means to help. We can't turn our backs on our people."

"So we'll send more money," his brother snapped back. "I just want to get out of here."

But Nathan felt that money simply wasn't enough. He felt that the Jews who lived under such dire circumstances in Palestine needed the brothers' very presence among them: their initiative,their leadership, and their ideas. Isidor disagreed.

The two argued back and forth, and finally Isidor said, "If you insist, stay here. Ida and I are going back to America where we belong."

The two separated. Isidor and his wife returned to Europe, while Nathan and his spouse stayed in Palestine, traveling the country and contributing huge sums of money to the establishment of education, health, and social welfare programs to benefit the needy. Nathan also financed the creation of a brand-new city on the shores of the Mediterranean. And since his name in Hebrew was Natan, and he was the city's chief donor, the founders named it after him and called it...Natanya.

Meanwhile, back in Europe, Isidor Straus was preparing to sail home to America aboard an ocean liner for which he had also made reservations for his brother, Nathan, and his wife. "You must leave Palestine NOW!" he cabled his brother in an urgent telegram. "I have made reservations for you and if you don't get here soon, you'll miss the boat."

But Nathan delayed. There was so much work to be done that he waited until the last possible moment to make the connection. By the time he reached London, it was April 12 and the liner had already left port in Southampton with Isidor and Ida Straus aboard. Nathan felt disconsolate that he had, as his brother had warned, "missed the boat." For this was no ordinary expedition, no common, everyday cruise that he had forfeited, but the much ballyhooed maiden voyage of the most famous ship of the century. This was the Titanic.

Nathan Straus, grief-stricken and deeply mourning his brother and sister-in-law could not shake off his sense that he had had a rendezvous with history. The knowledge that he had avoided death permeated his consciousness for the rest of his life, and until his death in l931, he pursued his philanthropic activities with an intensity that was unrivaled in his time.

Today, Natanya is a scenic resort city of 200,000 and headquarters to Israel's thriving diamond trade - one of the most important industries in the country. And in almost every part of the city, there is some small reminder of Nathan Straus's largesse, his humanity, and love for his people. His legacy lives on.

I find Jewish tidbits of information like this very interesting. Here is another link to Straus trivia.

Mind over Matter

Sometimes you have those "Kodak Moments" and you have to grasp them in your memory just because you don't have a camera in hand. Today I witnessed one of those moments.

I haven't talked about my father very much since he came home from hospital. In a way, there's too much to say about him, and in other ways there's not enough to say. Progress has been very slow and there have been some setbacks, too. Let me put it to you this way: it is not easy on him, it is not easy at all on my mother. And it is not easy for his children to see the diminishment in capabilities and cognition. It seems as if the decline is faster than it was before, and no doubt it is, brought on by such stark medical traumas to his body and his mind.

The memory falters rather frequently, even in the midst of normal conversations. Weakness permeates his bones and his person. "What is happening to me?" has been a popular refrain, my mother tells me. And I've been witness to "Ich hab nisht kein koyach mer." (I no longer have any strength.) It doesn't help that my father, and mother, are battling very bad upper respiratory viruses/flus right now, either.

But every day is a new day. And every day that my father wakes up, is able to daven and say "Thank G-d," is a true gift -- for him and for us.

Today I saw a bit of my "old father." Not the old, old man he's suddenly become, regardless of his advanced years, but my father "of old."

We were talking about his hometown, Tarnogrod, and I was telling him that I'd been contacted by someone from JewishGen, who informed me that marriage/death/birth records from certain pre-World War 2 years were now available...for a fee. I also told him that I'd been on the official gov't site for the town and saw a photo of a large synagogue that was now a library. (see top right photo in official town link)

He began to tell me the history of the town, who founded it and when, and suddenly he started saying something in Polish. Although I don't speak or understand the language at all, I could tell that he was reciting something like a poem. He had regained a twinkle in his eye -- which I really have not seen in WEEKS!!!!!!!!! And he had a smile, or rather more of a slanted grin...almost like a "cat who ate the canary" look on his face as he recited. He was showing off! My father was showing off something he remembered from the past, from a long-ago past. And when he finished his recitation, he said to my mother and I, "I learned that in grade three." Imagine, sometimes he doesn't know what day of the week it is, and doesn't know the month we're in, but he happily and proudly recited something he'd learned all those years ago -- and we're talking close to eighty years ago!

For that sparkle in his eyes, I wish I'd had a camera.

For that lopsided grin and that look he threw my mother and I, as in "See...my memory works just fine," I wish I'd had a camera.

For a glimpse at the schoolboy in him reciting an ancient Polish historical poem, I wish I'd had a camera.

No, I didn't have a camera, but those moments will no doubt linger in my heart.

778...and Counting

This post refers to the fact that I've just passed blog post 777. Who'd have guessed that I had so much to say since December 2004!?

Anyhow, this post has to do with a Y & R character, or perhaps he's an ex-character. I'm not a fan of soaps and rarely did I take the time to watch them over the years. Once in a while I'd sit, flip channels if I was home early from school and stop at the YOUNG & THE RESTLESS. I liked a couple of characters, but not enough to follow them through the ups and downs of their lives and loves over the years.

But I was reading an article in the Canadian Jewish News, which drew my interest. It's about Jerry Douglas who plays/played? John Abbott on the show. But what was more interesting to me is that Jerry was born Gerald Rubinstein....

Read on -- if you're a Y & R fan.

Five Questions

The other day I was reading some of my favorite blogs -- you know who you are! -- and came across Five Questions asked of "the old old lady of the hills". She said that if we wanted to be "tagged," we should drop her a line and she'd send us some interview questions that we should answer. Here are her random questions to me, and my answers.

1. If you could go back and change one thing about the path you have taken in your life, what would that one thing be?

Although I struggled in school with "the sciences," I probably should not have dropped them after grade 10. I should have pursued sciences and gone on to study clinical psychology or psychiatry.
Other than that, I wish I could have been bolder while growing up. I had to wait to become an adult to "find my voice."

2. Swimming Or Skiing?

I've never been on skis, and I'm a lousy swimmer.

3. You have been given the opportunity of having dinner with any 5 "living" celebrities of your choice. Who would they be and why?

Robin Williams -- to keep me laughing as I'm trying to digest my food.

Barbra Streisand -- I wouldn't mind singing a couple of duets with her... We'd "sing for our supper.

Elie Wiesel -- he'd bring a dose of reality to everything we talked about at the table.

Shirley Temple -- I'd like to learn more about her childhood in Hollywood, and her adulthood in politics.

Oprah Winfrey -- she's risen far in her personal and business life, and I'd like to interview her over coffee and dessert!

4. Imagine that you were not born into the religion that you were, and you can choose any other religion than that one---What religion would you choose, and why?

I'm really not well-versed about other religions, but I guess I'd choose Catholicism -- stringent beliefs, strong family values and Catholic school would help define me as a person.

5. The Zoo has said that you may take home any one animal. What would you choose and why?

A penguin. They're adorable in how they waddle around, and besides, a penguin would already be formally dressed for that celebrity dinner (see above)!

If you're interested to answer some questions:

1. Leave me a comment saying "Interview me."

2. I will respond by asking you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4., You will include the explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment, asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

I went to visit my parents today.

I was wearing a long-sleeve, blue-and-white striped top, and a jean skirt.

My mother was wearing the exact same long-sleeve, blue-and-white striped top (she'd bought one for her and one for me way back when), and a jean skirt.

Great minds think alike...

"Ehfoh Avi?"

My son came to me this evening and said, "I know a story you can write about for your blog... Write about what happened today in the Beaches."

"What happened today in the Beaches?" I tried to recall.

"You know, the man who spoke Hebrew..."

"That won't interest anyone; that sort of stuff happens all the time..."

And yet I still find myself writing this at my son's earlier request...

The Beaches is at the southernmost point of Toronto, bordering Lake Ontario. It is a beautiful community with the most wonderful architecture -- which happens to be rather expensive real estate -- and is in high demand. There is a boardwalk alongside the beach, and nearby is the main street with funky shops, cafes, salons, restaurants, pet shops and bookstores.

People patrol up and down the main street, Queen Street east, many of them with dogs in tow, or carriages and toddlers. There are nearby parks and pools and gardens for visitors and natives to enjoy.

Today was a glorious Toronto day, a summer day, not an April 22nd type of day. Towards the end of the afternoon, we packed up the kids and dog, and headed to the Beaches, first doing our stroll on the avenue before heading to the boardwalk and beach area itself.

I was with my two sons in front of a pet store, where I was trying to get Max to take a drink from a water bowl outside the store. He was more interested in sniffing out the other pooches at the watering hole than the water itself.

Suddenly I heard Hebrew being spoken. I turned around to look and saw two fifty-something couples conversing. I'm the type of person to pipe up when I hear Hebrew in a very public place and I often throw in a word or two to startle the speaker. This time I held back.

My oldest son heard the Hebrew and pointed it out to me. I nodded, implying that I know.

I then called him by name and told him to come.

The next thing I heard was one of the Hebrew-speaking men say, "Ehfoh Avi?" (where's Avi?)

I turned, and with a big smile said, "Hu shum"! (he's there)

I think my son was surprised by this brief exchange. If he'd only know what kind of in-depth conversations I've had with strangers when I hear them speak Hebrew in least-expected places in Toronto and elsewhere.

I smiled at my son as we walked away and told him that in our case, English AND Hebrew are universal languages.

Shalom.

His Roots are in Yiddish Theater...

Sidney Lumet has a colorful past...that started in the Yiddish theater.

He's been married several times: one wife was Gloria Vanderbilt. Another wife made him Lena Horne's son-in-law.

One of his personal quotes is a brilliant one: "There's no such thing as a small part. There are just small actors."

Just a brief look at Sidney Lumet.

Shabbat Shalom...with the stress on shalom/peace.

What Will They Think of Next?

At three minutes and four seconds after 2 AM on the 6th of May this year, the time and date will be 02:03:04 05/06/07. This will never happen again!

Do Our Personalities Change...or Just Develop?

I was at my parents' house the other day and my mother handed me a pile of envelopes, some manila ones, others business-size.

"What are these?" I asked.

"Your report cards. You can store them now."

My mother, who is well-known for her organization and archival skills, had done her share of keeping my day school, junior high and high school report card all these years; she wanted to "clean up" a bit.

As I sat in the driveway of my childhood home, I opened up the envelopes and began to read...and remember...and think: Do our personalities change...or just develop? Some of the comments that appeared on those reports would be the same comments that someone would write about me today:

Kindergarten: 1966-67 -- Winter Term: "I am pleased with Pearl's progress. She has a good attitude towards learning and towards people."

Grade 1: 1967-68 -- 1st Term: "Pearl is a very pleasant child...Sometimes, Pearl does not think for herself and would rather other children think for her."

2nd Term: "...She is not as sure of her arithmetic as her reading."

Grade 2: 1968-69: 1st Term: "She is a very co-operative and courteous girl, willing to help others..."

2nd Term: "Pearl is anxious to please and is co-operative with others and myself at all times."

Hebrew report card: 1st Term: "Pearl is a well-behaved and friendly child. She ...tries her best at all times. She is anxious to please but has difficulty in retaining vocabulary."

Grade 3: 1969-70: 2nd Term: "Pearl continues to do good work in writing and spelling. She has a good understanding of sentence and paragraph construction."

Grade 4: 1970-71: 3rd Term: "Conscientious--hard worker--seems to be more relaxed and at ease with school work and her peers."

Grade 5: 1971-72: 1st Term: "Pearl's appreciation of literature helps her contribute stimulating and interesting ideas to theses lessons. Her own creative writing is well organized and mature for her age."

Grade 6: 1972-73: 2nd Term: "Pearl has generally kept up her good work habits this term although, on occasion, she has to be "checked" for talking to her neighbours."

These are just some samples from the primary day school reports; as I reviewed them, I noted that teachers repeated phrases -- my math was always a weakness, my reading and writing were always my strengths; in some of the latter grades, my map skills were weak; one year it was noted that I didn't participate and offer up my ideas in the classroom, in subsequent years I was complimented on my ability to participate; in a couple of years, I had to be reminded not to talk to my "neighbors" while in class.

Overall, my report cards were always good -- my secular studies and my Hebrew/Jewish studies generally were good, with just some individual weakness: sciences/maths/map skills and sometimes socialization. My language and literature -- reading and writing -- skills were always noted as being well-developed or advanced. (If that's the case, how come I'm simply a blog writer, a writer of poetry, but not a journalist or novelist?!)

As I've reviewed my report cards, I can't help but think that my daughter is a lot like me in a number of academic areas with her weaknesses being/were my weaknesses; her strengths being/were my strengths. The main difference is the social area: I was a shy and reasonably quiet child. She is absolutely the opposite...thank G-d!

I guess I'll just have to hang on to her report cards, as my mother did with mine, and in some thirty-plus years, she can review them and see how much/if she's changed.

On a High

No. This post is not about drugs. It's not about being extremely happy. This post is about R.I.C.E.

I'm sure many of you have heard of or use Near East products -- grains and rice dishes in a box that are flavorful and easy to prepare.

Well, after Pesach I bought their Rice Pilaf: Curry product. I pulled it out just now off the shelf, intending to prepare it for this evening's dinner, and looked on the side of the box at the directions. There are Microwave Directions, Range Top Directions, Low Fat Directions and... [the reason behind this post!] HIGH ALTITUDE PREPARATION!

So...if I'm flying in my personal Learjet and preparing dinner, or am using my timeshare apartment in the Swiss Alps for a couple of weeks, or -- even better! -- am visiting an ashram in the mountains of Nepal, it is the directions for HIGH ALTITUDE PREPARATION that I must follow!

A Quotable Mention

I'd like to share these lovely words from my blogging friend, Rabbi Neil Fleischmann, over at NY's Funniest Rabbi.

Writing is like life: we think we control it but we don't, everyone else's seems better, and there's ambivalent yet abundant hope that with enough time we'll get it right.

A Survivor's Moment

[I wrote this poem a number of years ago. It is a scene out of my life. That Holocaust survivor is my father. This poem is dedicated to my father's mother, Chaja Malka Adler, who perished in the Holocaust, alongside her fifteen-year-old daughter, Marjam.]

A Survivor’s Moment


His eyes look directly into mine.
Not playful this time –
More like pleading.

“I don’t even have a picture
of my mother,” he says,
and walks out –
leaving me bewildered,
pensive
and apologetic.

Ani Ma'amin -

Let us remember...

The Road Less Traveled

I got this in an email today:


Go to Google Maps (http://maps.google.com/maps) and click on “Get Directions.”

Type in “New York, NY” as your starting point and “Paris, France” as your destination.

Once it computes your directions, scroll down to #23.

Question of the Day

Does Israeli salad REALLY taste better if the cucumbers and tomatoes are cut smaller ?

Thinking Out Loud

...Sometimes I wonder "What the heck was I doing in my spare time before I began living the blog culture -- reading blogs, writing posts?"

Don't many of you wonder the same about yourselves?

A Special Birthday Boy

Because tonight starts the latter days of Passover, I will not be online, and therefore will not be able to post tomorrow, Monday, April 9.

Tomorrow is my husband's 47th birthday.

I'm not sure where the time has flown for him for most of these 47 years, but I know where and how it's flown since December 1992, when we had our first date...and December 1993, when we got married...and June 1995, when we had our first child...and August 1997, when we had our second child...and March 2000, when we had our third child.

I wish Mr. TorontoPearl a happy and healthy birthday and a most wonderful year.

And I will borrow these beautiful song lyrics to help celebrate my husband and his special day...

WHAT ARE YOU DOING THE REST OF YOUR LIFE?

What are you doing the rest of your life?
North and south and east and west of your
life?
I
have only one request of your life
That you spend it all with me.

All the seasons and the times of your days.
All the nickels and the
dimes of your days.
Let the
reasons and the rhymes of your
days.
All begin and end with
me.

I want to see your face,
In every kind of light,
In
fields of gold and
Forests of the night;

And when you stand before
The candles on a cake.
Oh let
me be the one to hear
The silent wish you make.

Those tomorrows
waiting deep in your eyes
In the world of love you keep in your eyes,
I'll awaken what's asleep in your eyes,
It may take a kiss or two...

Through all of my life...
Summer, winter, spring and fall of my
life,
All I ever will recall of my life
Is all of my life with
you.

**********

Chag Sameach to you all.