ב"ה
As I sit writing these words, I can hear the shooting at the apartment houses
of Gilo two neighborhoods over. In and around the city the enemy hurls rocks,
bullets and bombs at Jewish soldiers and schoolbuses, while diplomats scurry about
pushing "position papers" and TV commentators and newspaper columnists
revile the Jews.The killers are driven by hate, the pundits and politicians by vanity and naiveté; together, they would rip the heart of Israel from its body.
Genesis 44:18-47:27 Torah reading for week of Dec 31, 2000 - Jan 6, 2001 
Joseph finally reveals his identity; his brothers are remorseful, his father
overjoyed, and all come to live in the fertile ghetto of Goshen, Egypt.
Happy ending or tragic beginning?
You will discover a world as authentic as your own, yet heretofore completely unknown to you. It is as fresh as Rembrandt’s, as far-reaching as Einstein’s, as unusual as Van Gogh’s, as terrifying and macabre as Edgar Allen Poe’s. It has its own harmony and logic, if only you suspend yourself long enough to hear and understand it.You are not discovering a child’s world; you are discovering the world as experienced by your child.
"I’m sure you’ve heard," said the Rebbe, "of the railway
that the government is planning to build across Siberia. I think this is a
perfect business opportunity for you. As one who has close connections with
Minister Potysukshnikov, you should be able to obtain a sizable contract as a
lumber supplier."I returned to my compartment in a state of confusion. The last thing I expected from the Rebbe was a business tip.
Think of all this world and everything it contains as one big parable. Water
expresses kindness, fire expresses might, the sweetness of a fruit expresses
wisdom, birds express freedom, fish express the oneness of existence in the
hidden worlds. Peel away the outer layers to find the sparks of truth inside.The Grand Storyteller, however, looks at the story and sees nothing but Himself thinking about Himself.
I was too tired to move, but my husband coaxed me off the bus with promises of ice cream. We approached the counter and I ordered an "Artik" ice cream bar. The young Arab man behind the counter handed it over and I reached for my wallet. But I never got the chance to pay. An earsplitting blast froze me in my place and the ground vibrated from an explosion. |
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