tilting then circling my hands in front of my eyes
pulling in light like a warm breeze at twenty below
welcoming Shabbat in with the light for the first time
with gifts of candles, prayer, song, bread, wine
and my wondering, wandering self peeking
as an explorer into something new undiscovered
and yet there for generations before me
Others knew the right place to go, where
to seek light and they guaranteed it was there
Trusting in this, I placed the candles just so
turned in prayer and welcomed Shabbat
and surprising me like a sudden embrace
she reached her arms out as if she
had waited patiently, lovingly all these years
ancient and new, unmoved by my disregard.
Carol Coven Grannick is a poet and children’s author whose middle grade novel in verse, REENI’S TURN(check out the wonderful trailer from Filmelodic and nice reviews!), debuted from Regal House Publishing in 2020. Her poetry for adults has appeared in Writing in a Woman’s Voice, Jewish Writing Project, NI+ Holocaust Memorial Issue, Bloom, Bluebird Word, Ground, The Birmingham Arts Journal, Capsule Stories, West Texas Review, Silver Birch Press, The Lake, and more. Her children’s fiction and poetry appeared/is forthcoming in Cricket, Ladybug, Babybug, Highlights, Hello, Paddler, and The Dirigible Balloon. There is rarely a day when she does not write in order to hold on to the treasure and meaning of being alive in this world.
The hands that smell like garlic, dill, parsley, parsnips, saffron—the kitchen—
soft, warmed, sheltering, applauding, soothing
comfort—
Always Home.
Lisa M. Miller is an inclusive mind-body health specialist. She facilitates therapeutic arts workshops that call in deep healing and synchronicity—a compass for meaning, intuition, and well-being. She’s an empty nester from Canada, living in Kentucky, married to her 1986 Jewish summer camp sweetheart. Her newest book, Woe & Awe, will be published by Accents (Spring 2024) Her podcast is called:The Women’s Well. Follow Lisa on Instagram: @LisaMillerBeautifulDay
Jane Schulman is a poet and fiction writer. She works as a speech pathologist with children with autism and cognitive delays. Jane published her first book of poetry, Where Blue Is Blue, with Main Street Rag in October, 2020. Her writing has appeared widely online and in print. She was a finalist for the Morton Marr Prize at Southwest Review.
Her hands, swollen with arthritis, don’t fail her as she plucks the chicken for the Sabbath meal kneads the dough for her must-be-dunked poppy seed cookies
Her hands once supple worked her Singer machine (prized possession) sewed my clothes, homemade creations marked her status as a working-class immigrant
She and my grandfather tailors from the old country opened a store and plied their craft
The old Singer humming along sustaining their livelihood as they raised a family, three sons and a daughter (prized possessions)
Fulfilling their Russian dreams of an American life now envisioned through the rolling fog as they drew nearer to Ellis Island the Statue of Liberty waving them in
Poet/lyricist Arlene Geller has been fascinated with words from a young age. Two poetry collections, The Earth Claims Her and Hear Her Voice, were published in 2023 by Plan B Press and Kelsay Books, respectively. Her poetry has also appeared in Tiny Seed Journal, Tiferet Journal, The Jewish Writing Project, White Enso, and other literary journals and anthologies. Collaborations with composers include commissioned lyrics, such as River Song, featured in the world premiere of I Rise: Women in Song at Lehigh University and since performed in numerous national and international locations. Learn more atarlenegeller.com.
When my Dad left Israel at nineteen he changed his name
and I was his link to the past as I look like his mother.
This is Dad’s story from the grave: Born in bed—
no need for details—we never had enough food
to eat. Like beggars we slept in the clothes
we wore all day. A religious man Tevya, my father
had nothing. God forgive me if I don’t praise my father—
but he never achieved anything, and I had to share his name.
I didn’t know people slept in special clothes
called pajamas—we only survived because of my mother’s
tenacity. Always hungry, you feel cold without food
and Jerusalem is cold in winter—a thin blanket on the bed
to cover us, we four children sharing the one bed.
His only job to sit with the dead, my father
earned a pittance, so our stomachs cried for food.
I’m the first one to change the name.
Cleaning houses of the rich my mother
worked for a dentist’s wife who gave us clothes.
We didn’t go to the dentist but wore his childrens’ clothes.
No furniture in our room except the two beds—
one night, falling asleep on top of the baby, my mother
smothered it. If he got carpentry work at night my father
bought us herring and pita. I didn’t want his name
when he’d wake us up after midnight to eat the food,
but not all of it — god forbid—we had to save food
for tomorrow. We were shnorers, our clothes
full of patches, I couldn’t wait to change the name.
My poor mother, I never saw her resting in bed.
I had to go work at thirteen because my father
couldn’t feed us. On special holidays my mother
cooked meatballs, oy such delicious rissoles my mother
made, my mouth waters to think of the food.
After I emigrated I celebrated my freedom from my father
and his religion with bacon on Yom Kippur. I bought clothes
for the trip —a double-breasted suit. I never went to bed
hungry after I moved to South Africa and changed my name.
When I married at thirty I had a successful factory making hospital beds.
My four children and their mother always had food and clothes,
and clean sheets. I hope my kids aren’t ashamed of their father’s name.
Roseanne Freed grew up in apartheid South Africa and now lives in Los Angeles, where she takes inner-city school children hiking in the Santa Monica mountains. A Best of the Net nominee, her poems have appeared in MacQueens Quinterly, ONE ART, Naugatuck River Review, Silver Birch Press and Verse-Virtual among others.
Merri Ukraincik is an award-winning writer whose work has appeared in numerous publications online and in print. She is the author of the book I Live. Send Help.: 100 Years of Jewish History in Images from the JDC Archives. Her memoir Wondrous Things: On Finding Joy and Faith in the Messy Business of Being Human is in search of a publisher. Follow her at https://merriukraincik.substack.com/ or on Facebook.
Dennis Gura is a father, husband, and an engaged and serious Jew who tries to understand a complex and confusing world as best as possible. A native Angeleno, he has been deeply engaged in Jewish thought and experiences his entire life–the ethnic, the ethical, the secular, and the religious. He was privileged to study at Machon Pardes in 1982-83, and has since bounced around various LA synagogues and Jewish groups.
To God To my ancestors To anyone who will listen I ask and pray for this:
Bless me with a peace That’s deeper than happiness That makes room for profound sorrow That accepts pain and loss That’s not dependent on good news
Bless me with a peace That comforts me when I feel anguish That steadies me when I feel uncertain That expands me when I think small That finds a way through my fiercest resistance
Bless me with a peace That stretches beyond my horizons That heals even if I can’t explain why That offers delight as an everyday gift That allows me to see blessings
Bless me with a peace That is a refuge from torment That is an oasis from yearning That is a sanctuary from trauma That transcends all else But never denies all else
Bless me with a peace That renews my gratitude for life And that I can access Every time I let you in
Rich Orloff writes both poems and plays. His poems have been published in The Poet, Fragments (published by T’ruah), and Fresh Words magazines, and they’ve been presented at churches and synagogues, performed in theaters and schools, read at meditation and yoga groups, and spoken at events both lofty and intimate. Rich’s plays include the Purim-themed musical comedy Esther in the Spotlight (performed so far in New York, Toronto and Tel Aviv), the comedic revue OY! (over 50 productions in the United States – and one in Bulgaria), and many more, of all lengths, styles and subjects. Rich’s plays have had over two thousand performances on six continents – and a staged reading in Antarctica. More at www.richorloff.com.
I am the crying child, the one who wants to scream and scream and scream. Why is the world this way? Why so much destruction and hate? Why so much killing?
I am the children, looking at the destruction adults created. Aren’t they supposed to protect us?
I am the teddy bear, sitting alone. Abandoned. My child gone. Where is she?
We are the guards. The shields. We want to protect our children. But we are useless against the enormity of the danger.
I am the wounded player. We are all players in the game the politicians are playing with us. Wounded, hurt, screaming in pain on the ground.
I am the shattered window. I was once clear. The world looked clearer through me. Now I am broken, shattered into pieces. Although maybe only part of me. Are there still pieces not shattered?
I am the wounded knee. Will I ever feel whole again? Will I ever be healed? What will it take? Will I ever stop hurting?
We are the healers. We’ve come with a bandage, to protect the wound. But we cannot fix it. There will always be scars.
I am the fist, hitting the wall. Frustration. Anger. Let it all out.
I am the pirate, the enemy. Or am I the victim? I, too, am wounded, missing my hand. But I will move on, move forward. Wounded but not defeated. Life is still worth living.
Where does it hurt? All over. When I apply pressure, it hurts.
Where is the hope? I am looking for the hope. Searching everywhere.
Don’t worry. I am here. You found me. It will be okay.
A note from Haviva Ner-David on writing these words:
For my Soulwork course for Ritualwell, we explored four different “soul modalities,” one each session. On the first night, we did Soul Image Collage. Each person in the class made a collage.
A profound occurrence happened when I was creating mine. I chose my images (part of the process), pasted them onto the page to create the collage, and then I looked at the collage.
It looked so painful, hopeless, despairing — which was not surprising considering that I am living in the midst of a brutal war. But there was only pain; I could have sworn I had chosen a hopeful image or two.
I looked on the floor, the couch, my desk, but I found nothing.
Just when I was about to give up, I stood and noticed a clipping that had fallen between the couch and the desk. I picked it up, turned it over, and it said (in Hebrew): “Don’t worry. It will be okay.”
Yes, I had clipped those words from a kids’ magazine when I had done my image selecting. Wow!
I pasted the missing clipping onto the collage and wrote the words that appear above. (The prompt was, “I am the one who…”)
Here is Haviva’s collage:
—
Haviva Ner-David is a writer and rabbi. She is the founding rabbinic director of Shmaya: A Mikveh for Mind, Body, and Soul on Kibbutz Hannaton, in the Galilee, where she lives. She is a spiritual companion with a specialty in dreamwork and other Gestalt modalities (such as soul image collage, inner child work, and nature soul work) who companions a variety of clients of different ages and faith traditions, including (but not only) many rabbis and rabbinical students. She is the author of three spiritual journey memoirs, two novels, and one children’s book (with another soon to be published) — the only children’s book about mikveh. Haviva is also an activist, focused mainly on building a shared society of partnership between Jewish and Palestinian Israelis. She was born with a degenerative form of muscular dystrophy (FSHD), which has been one of her biggest life challenges and teachers, and together with her life partner, Jacob, parents seven children (one adopted and six biological). You can visit her website for more information about her work and books: https://rabbihaviva.com/
Last year I searched for my grandfather’s grave at Har Jehuda Cemetery.
Nathan Weisbord.
Section C25, row 2, location 47.
But couldn’t find him.
Once, I was able to run my hand over Hebrew letters incised into the stone.
Once I was able trace the date of his death from the Spanish flu: October 1918.
But now he is twice buried.
This time in a jungle of tangled weeds and branches.
Buried by neglect that afflicts old Jewish cemeteries like this one.
Cemeteries passed down to owners unwilling or unable to maintain what was entrusted to them.
We are the caretakers of our ancestors.
Responsible for remembering them and reciting their names.
It’s not easy for many of us to find our roots.
Nature unchecked reclaims its own.
Paths to our history are blocked by twisted roots.
And burned records.
And toppled gravestones.
And the rubble of cemeteries in the old country.
The last time I visited Har Jehuda I was a volunteer.
One of many warriors, armed with rakes, hedge trimmers, and bare hands.
Working to clear the paths, section by section.
We have not yet reached my grandfather’s grave.
But we are persistent.
We Jews.
That’s how we survive.
I had hoped to accomplish much as a volunteer.
Bus alas, my ability to twist and bend
Had gone the way of my youth.
So I sat down and continued weeding and trimming on the ground.
But when it was time to leave, I found myself stuck.
Lacking the strength to get back on my feet.
So I wrapped my arms around the nearest gravestone.
A monument to man named Joseph Feingold
Who died in 1948.
And he helped to lift me to my feet.
As Jews, we are responsible for each other in life and in death.
And as I honor my ancestors, they will continue to lift me.
Natalie Zellat Dyen began writing humor pieces and essays for newspapers while working as a technical writer. Since turning to fiction, her work has appeared in a number of publications including, Philadelphia Stories, The MacGuffin, the Schuylkill Valley Journal, Willow Review, Alternative Truths: Endgame, Jewish Writing Project, Damselfly, CERASUS Magazine, Every Day Fiction, and Neshaminy: The Bucks County Historical and Literary Journal. Her short story collection, Finding Her Voice, was published in 2019. Her debut novel, Locked in Silence,a work of historical fiction, will be released on February 1, 2024.
The Jewish Writing Project 