Here is my lame attempt at poetry. Don't laugh, ok? I'm taking a creative writing class that my friend Aliza recommended to me (she's in it). It's an "Intro to Poetry Writing" class, and so far, it's been pretty fun. The teacher is absolutely nuts but he's hilarious, so it makes for a good time. You see, I'm not a stranger to the world of poetry, I've been writing my teenage angst-ridden musings for years. I've even been published (wouldn't you all just like to know where? Well I can't tell you because then you'd know my *real* name) :-p. But maybe sometime I'll post the poems that got me published on here, because I doubt that anyone has actually ever read them before. Anyway. This poem is a work in progress, feel free to leave comments on what you like/dislike, etc. Thanks!
Matthew
Standing there
cold and pacing.
A chance meeting,
I knew you in high school
Making conversation
How have you been and what's new?
Being friendly because we're glad to see a familiar face--
someone from home, because we fancy ourselve part of an elite--ha, yeah, elite--
group of people known as "People Not from Chicago or the Suburbs"
and it unites us.
We realize now that we were immature back then
And while I can't forget the hurtful words you said to me that made me uncomfortable with myself
I forgive you, even though it's just silently to myself, and I smile at you and chat about the past few years
I see you now in a different light
You're softer, sweeter.
Maybe you've changed, or maybe it's me.
I don't need your approval anymore,
there's no popularity contest to win
Just two people who knew eachother "back when"
When we were confused, hormone-driven teenagers who cared only about what everyone else thought
and didn't give a shit about our own well-being.
We just tried to fit in.
So we stand here, shivering and talking
And as my anger at those painful memories fades to pity
for the angry young man you were, and slowly melts into compassion and understanding
I smile again at you
Because it really was nice
To see you again
And you say I should get in touch with you sometime
I agree and say I will
Although a part of me thinks that you were just being polite
But maybe not--because I really do think you've changed
I don't know
So in case you really did mean it, I'll call you sometime
and we can stand there,
Shivering and talking.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Shabbos Goy
Editor's note: I had to restart my computer because it spazzed on me so I lost most of this post. Please bear with me as I try to remember what I had written. Enjoy :-)
The inspiration for this post came about 8 minutes before Shabbos. You see, as most of you know, I am observant and religious, even though I am not "technically" Jewish since I am not finished with my conversion process. I don't have a piece of paper that "proves" I'm a Jew, but I am.That does not mean that, in every other sense, I am not Jewish. I am a Jewess. And I know that Hashem knows it. So my question is, why, if almost everyone I know sees my spiritual and religious growth and wants to help me with it, there are still some people who take the opportunity to point out the fact that, indeed, I am not "technically" Jewish?
I am having trouble writing this. I don't know how to say what I want to say without sounding rude or mean or just plain foolish.
Anyway, I guess I'll just get on with it. So 8 minutes before Shabbos, the Rebbetzin calls me. I had no idea who was calling me right before Shabbos, but since I didn't recognize the number I figured it was probably pretty darn important. So I answer, and it's the Rebbetzin. And she's like "Hila, it's is Elana*. I know this will probably sound like a really strange question, but I have something to ask you." At this point, I have a slight inkling of what might follow, but am still pretty much in the dark. She continues "Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" Riiiight, I think to myself, I can see where this is heading. Sigh. "I was wondering if you could come to my home tomorrow and help me walk to [our shul]. I would need you to push the double stroller with Zahava* and Eytan* in it, and Reut* and I would walk with you."
*pause for me to process said request*
Another sigh.
Anyway, the conversation continues for a couple of minutes, with Elana asking me if I mind helping her, and if I have anything going on, to which I reply that I was planning on meeting some people for lunch around 1 but that other than said lunch I was free for all of Shabbat. She continued to explain to me that she and the Rabbi just got the go-ahead from their Rav to (in essence, hire a Shabbos Goy, although those are my words, not hers). She continued by saying that of course, she would pay me for my time spent getting to and from their house and the time walking/pushing the stroller. I said I understood. She then asked if I have a car. In almost utter disbelief, I said no, as a matter of fact I do not. As if that matters? If I had a car I sure as heck wouldn’t be driving it on a Saturday afternoon! *grumble* She seemed a bit taken aback/upset by this, as she further explained to me where her home is located, which is about 1.5 miles from where I live (and I live about a block from shul). I reassured her that it was not a big deal, that I would walk to her house and meet her there. Because at this point, as you can now guess, I agreed. I don’t know why I agreed, it was one of those split second decisions you make where you just go “Ok, sure, yeah.” I couldn’t help it. I’m a helper. And Lord knows that Rebbetzin Elana is just about the most pure-hearted, kindest, warmest person I have ever met. So when she asked for my help, long before she even explained what it was that she wanted me to do, I immediately agreed. Of course, I was disappointed when I heard just what it was that she wanted me to do, to say the least.
Ok, I’ll give. I know that she isn’t around our shul that much, what with three small children and all, but it isn’t as if she doesn’t know me. I’ve baby-sat her kids, for goodness’ sakes! So anyway, I know, she probably doesn’t realize just how religious I am, because I don’t wear skirts and long sleeves every day, I sing in public, and don’t have any qualms about sitting next to men. All that being said, however, I am trying my hardest to be Orthodox. Or maybe I’m Conservadox. Either way, Shabbat is special to me. I do my absolute best, in my own bumbling and accident-prone way, to observe it exactly as it should be. Granted, I know I mess up. Hashem knows I mess up. And I think I’m forgiven. I mean, theoretically it doesn’t “matter” anyway, since I’m not “official” yet. But that’s the thing. It does matter. To me, it matters.
And it almost broke my heart when I realized what she wanted me to do. To break the laws of Shabbat. Oh Lord, oh Lord, what had I done? What had I agreed to? An overwhelming urge came over me to say “Listen, I’m sorry Elana, but I simply cannot do this.’ But I didn’t have the heart, after hearing how it had been 2 ½ years since she had been able to get out of the house on Shabbat, and how she wouldn’t have asked but she was desperate and didn’t know who else to call. Of course the part about not knowing who to call/being desperate was what hooked me in the first place, before I was told just what it was I’d agreed to.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Elana; she is the best. And I am always happy to help her and her family in any way I can. I just never thought this would be one of the ways.
I’m stuck. On the one hand, I am grateful to have the opportunity to help out Elana and her family, because I know that she was truly grateful to me for the help. On the other hand, I am saddened because I broke the laws of Shabbat and it wasn’t a matter of pekuach nefesh, not in the slightest. But then again, I find myself asking “what does it matter anyway?” And then I feel defeated. And small. I feel as if I am back at square one again, asking God what it is I am supposed to be doing and where I am supposed to be going. I’m lost. I suppose it really isn’t that big of a deal and I’m probably just blowing things out of proportion. I know that the Rebbetzin did not mean any offense or insult to me in any way, shape, or form. She simply isn’t capable of it, that much I do know. That still doesn’t change the fact that I was crestfallen when I learned what I had agreed to. But I believe that it would have been far worse to break my promise to such a great family than the injury to what I realize is, ultimately, my pride. But it isn’t just my pride, it’s my soul, my spirit, that have been wounded, if ever-so-slightly. I’ll get over it, and I realize that it is not the end of the world. Yet I cannot help but wonder
“Why did she have to ask me?”
*Names have been changed to protect identities.
The inspiration for this post came about 8 minutes before Shabbos. You see, as most of you know, I am observant and religious, even though I am not "technically" Jewish since I am not finished with my conversion process. I don't have a piece of paper that "proves" I'm a Jew, but I am.That does not mean that, in every other sense, I am not Jewish. I am a Jewess. And I know that Hashem knows it. So my question is, why, if almost everyone I know sees my spiritual and religious growth and wants to help me with it, there are still some people who take the opportunity to point out the fact that, indeed, I am not "technically" Jewish?
I am having trouble writing this. I don't know how to say what I want to say without sounding rude or mean or just plain foolish.
Anyway, I guess I'll just get on with it. So 8 minutes before Shabbos, the Rebbetzin calls me. I had no idea who was calling me right before Shabbos, but since I didn't recognize the number I figured it was probably pretty darn important. So I answer, and it's the Rebbetzin. And she's like "Hila, it's is Elana*. I know this will probably sound like a really strange question, but I have something to ask you." At this point, I have a slight inkling of what might follow, but am still pretty much in the dark. She continues "Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" Riiiight, I think to myself, I can see where this is heading. Sigh. "I was wondering if you could come to my home tomorrow and help me walk to [our shul]. I would need you to push the double stroller with Zahava* and Eytan* in it, and Reut* and I would walk with you."
*pause for me to process said request*
Another sigh.
Anyway, the conversation continues for a couple of minutes, with Elana asking me if I mind helping her, and if I have anything going on, to which I reply that I was planning on meeting some people for lunch around 1 but that other than said lunch I was free for all of Shabbat. She continued to explain to me that she and the Rabbi just got the go-ahead from their Rav to (in essence, hire a Shabbos Goy, although those are my words, not hers). She continued by saying that of course, she would pay me for my time spent getting to and from their house and the time walking/pushing the stroller. I said I understood. She then asked if I have a car. In almost utter disbelief, I said no, as a matter of fact I do not. As if that matters? If I had a car I sure as heck wouldn’t be driving it on a Saturday afternoon! *grumble* She seemed a bit taken aback/upset by this, as she further explained to me where her home is located, which is about 1.5 miles from where I live (and I live about a block from shul). I reassured her that it was not a big deal, that I would walk to her house and meet her there. Because at this point, as you can now guess, I agreed. I don’t know why I agreed, it was one of those split second decisions you make where you just go “Ok, sure, yeah.” I couldn’t help it. I’m a helper. And Lord knows that Rebbetzin Elana is just about the most pure-hearted, kindest, warmest person I have ever met. So when she asked for my help, long before she even explained what it was that she wanted me to do, I immediately agreed. Of course, I was disappointed when I heard just what it was that she wanted me to do, to say the least.
Ok, I’ll give. I know that she isn’t around our shul that much, what with three small children and all, but it isn’t as if she doesn’t know me. I’ve baby-sat her kids, for goodness’ sakes! So anyway, I know, she probably doesn’t realize just how religious I am, because I don’t wear skirts and long sleeves every day, I sing in public, and don’t have any qualms about sitting next to men. All that being said, however, I am trying my hardest to be Orthodox. Or maybe I’m Conservadox. Either way, Shabbat is special to me. I do my absolute best, in my own bumbling and accident-prone way, to observe it exactly as it should be. Granted, I know I mess up. Hashem knows I mess up. And I think I’m forgiven. I mean, theoretically it doesn’t “matter” anyway, since I’m not “official” yet. But that’s the thing. It does matter. To me, it matters.
And it almost broke my heart when I realized what she wanted me to do. To break the laws of Shabbat. Oh Lord, oh Lord, what had I done? What had I agreed to? An overwhelming urge came over me to say “Listen, I’m sorry Elana, but I simply cannot do this.’ But I didn’t have the heart, after hearing how it had been 2 ½ years since she had been able to get out of the house on Shabbat, and how she wouldn’t have asked but she was desperate and didn’t know who else to call. Of course the part about not knowing who to call/being desperate was what hooked me in the first place, before I was told just what it was I’d agreed to.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Elana; she is the best. And I am always happy to help her and her family in any way I can. I just never thought this would be one of the ways.
I’m stuck. On the one hand, I am grateful to have the opportunity to help out Elana and her family, because I know that she was truly grateful to me for the help. On the other hand, I am saddened because I broke the laws of Shabbat and it wasn’t a matter of pekuach nefesh, not in the slightest. But then again, I find myself asking “what does it matter anyway?” And then I feel defeated. And small. I feel as if I am back at square one again, asking God what it is I am supposed to be doing and where I am supposed to be going. I’m lost. I suppose it really isn’t that big of a deal and I’m probably just blowing things out of proportion. I know that the Rebbetzin did not mean any offense or insult to me in any way, shape, or form. She simply isn’t capable of it, that much I do know. That still doesn’t change the fact that I was crestfallen when I learned what I had agreed to. But I believe that it would have been far worse to break my promise to such a great family than the injury to what I realize is, ultimately, my pride. But it isn’t just my pride, it’s my soul, my spirit, that have been wounded, if ever-so-slightly. I’ll get over it, and I realize that it is not the end of the world. Yet I cannot help but wonder
“Why did she have to ask me?”
*Names have been changed to protect identities.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Back in Business
Well hey there, folks! Sorry for the lack of updating lately. Just got back to school after a nice long break and I'm really not looking forward to the workload this semester. I'm taking 18 hours and I have 7 classes. Yikes! I am excited, however, about my History of Judaism class. You see, each week we have to write two "diary" entries about anything related to Judaism that we want to. They are informal and can be as long or as short as we want. So I thought, cha-ching! Blog material! Woohoo! And it's good for all of the 4 of you that read this thing because I'll actually have something oh you know, interesting to say, at least twice a week :-)
Ok, now it's time to get some homework done! See you all soon!
-Hila
Ok, now it's time to get some homework done! See you all soon!
-Hila
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