A young man came to a rabbi for a chat.
“I’ve bought a new car” said the young man to the rabbi.
“Congratulations,” he replied.
The sukkah is a symbol of fragility. We build the temporary structure each year and know that it is only meant to last for the week-long holiday. It sways in the breeze. The raindrops land inside. The animals nibble at our decor. We know it could come crashing down on us.
Spread over us the sukkah of Your peace. Blessed are You O Lord, who spreads out a sukkah of peace over us, over the entire people Israel, and over Jerusalem.
One favorite dish of the Ashkenazim that survived the move from the shtetl to North America was the hearty mushroom-potato-barley soup called krupnick.
Halloween brings me a bit of stress each year. On a very basic level, I'm just not a fan of this holiday that, in recent years, seems to have become so much bigger than ever before.
More than 130 adults and children spent a few days earlier this month building a communal sukkah, eating shared meals outside, singing songs and sleeping in tents under the stars.
And they did it all in Russian.