Week 31: "It's a Big World After All"

Recently, we had the honor of sharing a Shabbat meal with Ruth Messinger, President of American Jewish World Service (AJWS). We’ve been longtime supporters of this amazing non-profit, which raises funds to support “hundreds of grassroots organizations working to promote health, education, economic development, disaster relief, and social and political change in the developing world.” They work with women, youth, ethnic, religious and sexual minorities, indigenous people, refugees and IDPs and people living with HIV/AIDS. 

After we had broken the Sabbath bread and were beginning to enjoy the meal, I inquired about what had inspired her to become interested in social justice issues in the first place. She said that it started when she was a little girl in New York City; America had “been good to her family” since their arrival, and her parents “gave back” through leadership and philanthropy. She also said that her family derived meaning from their faith by practicing “Social Justice Judaism,” participating in actions and causes that addressed Jewish and secular issues alike.

Ruth served on the New York City Council from 1978-1989, and was Manhattan Borough President for eight years before running for mayor in 1997. In 1998 she joined AJWS, and has never looked back. She has worked tirelessly to engage the American Jewish comminuty with the pressing concerns experienced by so many around the world.

Aviva, at almost four-years-old, surprised everyone at the table by eating with a fork, saying “please” and “thank you” unsolicited, and appearing to listen intently to our conversation. Clearly, much of it went completely over her head. As it should. As I explored in Week 29’s blog post “Why?,” there are so many questions in this world beyond her scope of understanding, and so many urgent problems that need attention. I am thankful every day that she has a roof over her head, enough food to eat, a community that is safe, and parents that have the time and resources to be consistently present with her, and am highly aware that many children, both here in our own community and around the world, do not have these basics that can easily be taken for granted. 

If it’s not the right time in her life to expose her to all the injustices that exist, what can we be doing to prepare her for when it is indeed developmentally appropriate to share? In our own neighborhood, by dropping challah off at the Women’s Drop-In Center monthly, she is beginning to figure out that close to home, the challah we bake is helping to feed women and children who visit the drop-in center during lunch time. This is something concrete and not too complicated for her to understand, and it shows that she can have some impact in connecting with those around her. This action does not yet delve into the much larger issues of joblessness, homelessness, income inequality, and so on. In time…

With regard to current problems and concerns that occur much further away (i.e. police misconduct in Baltimore or the huge earthquake in Nepal), what we’re trying to do now is introduce the idea that the world is a very BIG PLACE! She has a large, soft world globe, that in addition to being perfect for a game of catch, serves as a great teacher for her growing global awareness. Indeed, she often uses the globe to take imaginary plane rides, visiting relatives and friends who live across the US and throughout the world. 

Though we haven’t yet traveled internationally with her (save for two short trips down South), it’s our hope that over the next few years, we can begin to take some global treks. She will certainly see the wonders of the new places we encounter, and will also hopefully be sensitive to the challenges that exist as well. And in the not so distant future, she just might embark on an AJWS learning trip (with or without Abba and Papa!), where she can discover the complex needs of the place she is visiting, and learn how individuals are addressing the situations, in smaller and larger ways. 

Thank you, Ruth, for the work you’ve done and continue to do. You are an inspiration for us and our daugher!

Week 30: "Why We Give..."

Sharing a Shabbat meal with family and friends gathered around the table is always a highlight of our week. A time to reflect on the week past, and then live in the present moment. A time to share a nourishing meal, recount stories, and sing together. This past week, we had the pleasure of having my Aunt Eve join us for Shabbat.

She arrived from Milwaukee, WI, on Friday morning, and after showing her some highlights of Berkeley (lunch on 4th Street, shopping at Monterey Market—with a whole aisle devoted to mushrooms!), we braided challahs together. Interestingly, these were the first challahs that she had ever made! As she said to me, “Challah-baking skipped a generation in our family—my mother made it for decades, and my daughter makes it now, but I never learned!”

As we walked around Cesar Chavez Park at the Berkeley Marina, we talked about the passions that have informed her professional life. Born in Madison, WI, as a child of deaf parents (along with my dad, Harvey, who was a Guest Challah Bloggah this past fall), she eventually went to Gallaudet University (an international leader in the education of the Deaf and hard of hearing), where she pursued studies with her late husband Leo Dicker. Upon graduation, they returned to Wisconsin, where they pushed for American Sign Language to be actively included in educational programs for the Deaf and hard of hearing. This inclusion may seem commonplace now, but it was indeed seen as revolutionary at the time, as most instruction encouraged lip-reading rather than formal sign language. I asked her what made her want to “give back” to society through teaching, and she recounted two very powerful experiences. First, she shared with me that her father Abe had always showed generosity, compassion, and goodwill to those within the deaf community who had additional special needs. While many shunned such individuals, Abe showed by example how everyone, regardless of their “abilities,” was welcome with open arms in his home.

My Zaide...

She also shared a story about her mother, Hilda. Mainstreamed in the public schools for her entire life (though she had significant hearing loss) she did reasonably well, considerieng how difficult it must have been to constantly rely on lip-reading. But during her senior year of high school, her English class read Shakespeare. As hard as she tried, the language proved to be too difficult to lip-read, and she quit school just a few credits shy of graduating. Years later, as Eve was touring Galluadet, she visited a class where they were using sign language to bring one of the Bard’s plays to life in the classroom. Tears welled up as she recalled in that moment her mother’s own struggles, and she decided to dedicate her life to enriching the educational, cultural, family, and work lives of those in the deaf community.

When Eve and I picked up Aviva on Friday afternoon, Aviva was a bit shy…for about five minutes! After we all delivered the week's extra challah to Chaparral House, she quickly warmed to Eve’s good nature, humor, easy rapport, and sense of wonder about Aviva’s world, and the next two days were full of bonding; books were read, games were played, and the land of make-believe was explored.

While Eve was able to participate in our own “Challah-it-Forward” initiative this week, I look forward to the day when Eve and Aviva can stroll around the Berkeley Marina on their own; Eve can tell this next generation the stories from her past, hopefully informing the stories that Aviva creates in her own time…

Week 29: "Why?"

The age of three is the age of why?! I don’t know when it starts exactly, but I’m pretty sure it’s universal. In the first year, children have just boarded the train of life and begin this crazy journey. In the second year, they’re connecting images and ideas about the world as they experience it. And then comes the third year, when they begin to really make sense of it by throwing out that curveball of a question, 24/7!

“Why?”

Why does the sun shine?
Why is the sky blue?
Why did Lucas (our 14-year-old dog) die?
Why is blood red (after two nights of middle-of-the-night bloody noses)?

This holiday season, though we decided not to share the story of Passover just yet (see Week 27), or the Seder’s four questions, Aviva created her own questions, based on the rituals she experienced over the 8-day festival:

“Why do we eat Matzah, and why can’t we eat bread?
“Why are we Jewish?”
“Why are you Jewish, Abba?”
“Why are you Jewish, Papa?”
“Why am I Jewish?”

With the answer to each question, a new question arises, of course, and though sometimes taxing to consistently answer with patience and an aura of calm, I’m ultimately in awe of her curiosity and sense of wonder. Everything is still so new for her, and she’s actively trying to figure out her place in this big, complicated universe.

When I hear her “Why’s…,” I cannot help but ask myself why and when we as adults stop asking for explanations for that which we don’t fully understand.

Perhaps because we know that the answers are so complicated, we feel overwhelmed even asking the questions in the first place…

As Aviva grows up, and begins asking the harder questions—“Why is there so much inequality?,” “Why is the environment in so much trouble?,” etc., I hope that I can convey to her that although life is complex, and although life’s answers do not always come in tidy little packages, she shouldn’t ever stop asking and wondering. 

And just as important, I hope that even if she doesn’t have all the answers, she will be brave and courageous enough to take action and address the concerns that she does see around her, be they social or environmental. That she uses her imagination and creativity to craft and implement independent and collaborataive ideas, in community with others.

May you all have a year full of challenging questions and even more inspiring actions!

Week 28: "The 18-Minute Matzah"

This week, I was given a unique opportunity that I haven’t had in the 27 weeks of our “Challah-it-Forward” project thus far: baking matzah! Where, you may ask? Certainly not in my home kitchen. Or Shalom Community, San Francisco’s Reconstructionist Congregation, sponsored this Matzah Baking Workshop at Mission Pie, where synagogue members Krystin Rubin & Karen Heisler spin their pie-baking magic.  

Rabbi Katie Mizrahi started things off by reading a short comedic piece written by Michael Strassfeld, in which he writes a letter to the star of the holiday, wonderring why THE symbol of freedom, of liberty, has to be, well, such a square, and taste so, uninspiring?!

Then, the very serious work of matzah-baking began. While the ingredients are definitely simpler than your traditional challah (you basically only need flour and water for matzah!), the process is much more complex, and requires expert timing.

The trickiest part, to be sure, comes from the very nature of matzah itself. For unlike every other week of the year, when we enjoy doughy, melt-in-your-mouth challah, for this Passover week, the “bread” must contain no “chametz,” or fermented grain product (specifically, from one of the “five grains” mentioned in rabbinic literature: wheat, spelt, barley, oats, and rye. Ashkenazic Jews also don’t partake of rice, millet, and beans, for although they are not explicitly forbidden in the Talmud, they undergo a process similar to fermentation.)

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Krystin Rubin, of Mission Pie, showing us how it's done.

How to ensure that fermentation won’t take place when making matzah? As fermentation is presumed to take place within 18 minutes of the cut grain to moisture, here are three strategies one can employ, as described in this “My Jewish Learning” article, again by Rabbi Michael Strassfeld:

1. Protect the ingredients from moisture and heat prior to mixing.

2. Prepare the dough very rapidly.

3. Bake at extremely high temperatures.

While I was not able to capture footage from the actual workshop, here is a youtube video that, while not exactly representative of last night’s gathering, nonetheless provides a feeling for the “human matzah-making machine.”

As you can see, matzah-making really does require a community of people working together, in relationship, as a cohesive, respectful group. It ultimately reminds me of how the Israelite community must have needed this same community spirit, reliance, and resilience as they embarked on their harrowing journey towards freedom.

While challah-baking does not need to be done in community in the same way, I’ve found that there is beauty in the sharing of this age-old ritual, beauty in the rhythm of the mixing together, kneading togeher, braiding together, and waiting together, with noses pressed against the oven window, witnessing the rising of fresh loaves.

May you all enjoy your final matzah days this Passover season, before challah returns to our tables for another whole year next Shabbat…

Week 27: "The World is Round, the Challah is Flat!"

It’s been 26 Weeks of challah, challah, challah! Combine flour water, yeast, salt, egg, and some honey, knead, wait, shape, bake, give, and enjoy! I hadn’t quite appreciated it, but a rhythm has been established over these last 6 months, a weekly ritual that without fail, I’ve commited to, no matter how busy, no matter how inconvenient.

Until now. For this coming week, I’m instructed to, in fact commanded to…stop! To cease the simple Friday activities that have come to symbolize the end of the week; the slowing down, so to speak, of our busy lives, made all the more easy by the sweet aromas and savory mouthfuls of warm Sabbath bread.

This is not my first Passover, of course; I’ve entered “the land of no bread” dozens and almost dozens of times before, but never in quite the same way. It’s always been as a consumer of bread, never as a maker / baker.

According to our tradition, when the enslaved Israelites finally escaped from Egyptian bondage, they didn’t have time to let their dough rise, and left with flatbread instead. To remember this plight of our ancestors, we now eat flat, unleavened Matzo throughout the duration of our Passover holiday.

Enter Aviva. I need to tell her over the next couple of days that we will not be baking challah this week? “But why?” she will ask. And honestly, I’m not sure what I will tell her. I know we are instructed to tell the Passover story, sharing the story of our people with the children of the next generation;  it’s a story that’s been passed down at Seder tables for a very long time.

And yet…Mark and I feel profoundly unenthusiastic about sharing this narrative with Aviva. Why? Oh just a few troubling things; death of newborn males, forced separation of families (see Moses in a basket), horrific plagues, splitting seas that engulf entire armies, etc.

Yes, it’s only a story, and yes, we can choose to tell her in a developmentally appropriate way. But honestly, how can you tell this narrative in a way that she can grasp, without watering it down (no pun intended) so much that it ceases to be the Passover story?

At four years old, our daughter already has so many questions about life and death (“When will you die?” “Will that crow eat me?”—And these coming from a genuinely happy, well-adjusted {seemingly} child)…do we really need to burden her with all the dysfunction, violence, and morbidity of this story?

Interestingly, one response that comes up for me is the chorus of the “Dayenu” song (in which we acknowledge 15 major Biblical events, proclaiming after each one “It would have been enough!”).

For this year, Dayenu, might it be enough to introduce Passover as a holiday that celebrates the coming of spring, the season in which she was born, and the inspiration for her name?

Next year, Dayenu, might it be enough to celebrate the freedom that we are grateful to have, to live lives full of meaning and nourishment?

In a way, we're already starting to instill some of the seeds of these values within her through the “Challah-it-Forward” endeavor. For even though we couldn’t possibly expect her to understand many of the societal challenges that inspire many of our small actions, by acknowledging that we have enough, and by strenghening the “using your kindness” muscle to share with others, she will hopefully develop the empathy and compassion to assertively and decisively respond to the world's challenges as they come into focus over the coming years.

May all of you have have meaningful Passovers, and if you have thoughts you’d like to share about how you are discussing the holiday with your families, we’re all ears…

Week 26: "Music and Rituals, Together!"

Slowly but surely, everyone began to arrive. Some on bicycles, others on foot, and one in a van big enough for a very large bass. Homemade food was set on the picnic tables, and children found their way to the playground that was steps away.

All this, the beginning of a gathering last Sunday to welcome spring! While sunny Californians had not been hibernating for months through the dreadful winter of 2015 (sorry Boston!), a new season is definitely upon us here, with splashes of color and sweet scents filling the Berkeley air. What better way to celebrate than gathering in community, partaking in food, music, and movement?

The event was sponsored by the East Bay Community Music Project, an organization that holds twice-monthly indoor Sunday gatherings for community members to make music, together! For this special spring gathering, the festivities were brought to the outdoors, in beautiful Ceder-Rose park.

Old favorites were sung, a circle dance was taught, and a seasonally-inspired “marching band” was organized, which wound it’s way around a big soccer-gathering nearby, eliciting warm smiles that suggested “Only in Berkeley!” And finally, the world-premier of a spring planting song by Molly Skuse, along with the planting of Sunflower seeds in tiny compostable pots, affording everyone the opportunity to bring home and tend a little sunshine from the morning (amidst the clouds that accompanied the festivities, which even managed to release a little much-needed rain).

Dancing on the Green.

At the conclusion of the morning, Ryk Groetchen, the founder of EBCMP (who is also a fabulous teacher with East Bay Music Together) spoke about the ritual of music-making that he experienced as a child. His grandfather had a guitar and a songbook, and every Sunday night, without fail, Ryk and his extended family would gather in the living room for an hour to make music. And now he continues this ritual, this tradition, with new family and friends, at least twice a month.

As he was speaking, it didn’t take long for me to think about all of the other traditions and rituals in our lives that encourage us to fully experience the moment at hand. We pray, we mourn, we march, and we celebrate. But we don’t do it alone, we do it in community. And when we are experiencing these rituals, we often sing and make music! We hear our own voices, singing in unison with those around us, creating harmonies in the process.

When I think of this in the context of Shabbat, memories of gathering around the Friday night table while growing up, both at home and at summer camp, come flooding in. Communal Shabbat singing is a staple at such gatherings, before and after the partaking of the ritual wine and challah offerings.

What I had never really thought about, until now, were the ways that community and music could also accompany the preparations for such festivities. Specific to this year of “Challah-it-Forward,” how might baking challah in community, and delivering it in community, strengthen this weekly ritual, this new tradition in our family? And how might the singing of songs together throughout the process deepen our experience?

And so, I now extend an open invitation: If you and your family are up for a little messiness in the kitchen, a short walk through the neighborhood, and some soulful singing along the way, let’s make a date to bake, together!

Planting Sunflower seeds and making music...

Week 25: "The 'Challah-it-Forward' Butterfly Challenge!"

Doughnuts, the red carpet, and butterflies, oh my!

What do these three things have in common? They were all championed (in the best possible way) by Chris Rosati. Who is this man, and what is his incredible story? And what does this have to do with Challah-it-Forward?!

A couple years ago, Chris Rosati, a father of two from North Carolina, found out that he had ALS, Lou Gehrig’s Disease. Upon learning of the grim prognosis and the hardships that lay ahead, instead of wallowing in despair, he decided to dedicate the rest of his life to giving and spreading joy, hopefully inspiring others in the process.

His first project: The desire to “steal” a Krispy Kreme donut truck and give away 1,000 donuts, for no other reasons than to see the recipients smile and to experience joy. While he knew he actually couldn’t steal a truck(!), when Krispy Kreme heard about his dream through a Facebook post, they outfitted him with a huge "Donut Express," and Rosati spent one day delivering 1,000 donuts to city parks, cancer wards, children’s hospitals and schools.

His second initiative: A film project called BIGG (“Big Ideas for the Greater Good). For this challenge, Rosati invited the kids in his community to come up with something BIGG, then videotape it. The short films would then be premiered at a “red carpet” event. He received a flurry of submissions, including one from children who set up a “Wheel of Kindness” at a local mall. Participants would spin, and then do whatever kind thing it landed on, such as hugging ten random nearby strangers. From the stage that evening, Rosati said: "You have the ability to change the world with just an act of kindness.”

Which leads us to his third, and most recent endeavor: “The Butterfly Effect.” This is the idea that a lone butterfly flapping its wings on one side of an ocean can, theoretically, start a hurricane on the other. Rosati asked himself if this theory could be applied to kindness as well. So a little while back, he tested it out at a diner in his hometown of Durham, North Carolina.

After seeing two girls at a table next to his, he gave them each $50, with only one simple request—do something kind. It didn’t take long for the girls to know exactly what to do; their dad had worked for the Peace Corps in a village in Sierra Leone, and they heard that the people there had recently been working very hard to fight Ebola. Upon hearing that the village was now Ebola-free, the girls paid for a feast to help them celebrate.

Rosati wasn’t aware of any of this, until about a month later, when he received a very special email. It included pictures from the village, with people holding signs that read, "Thanks a lot for spreading kindness -- Chris Rosati."

 "It was the butterfly effect," said Rosati.

 Rosati was so touched by this that he started the “little BIGG Grant Campaign.” Students across the country in grades K-12 are invited to submit a short video describing how they would use $50 to make an impact. If they are selected, they receive funding to carry out their idea.

Which leads us full circle to “Challah-it-Forward!” I was so inspired by this entire story that I decided to issue a “'Challah-it-Forward' Butterfly Challenge.” It’s pretty simple. If you express interest in participating, and then your name is pulled from a hat next Wednesday, March 25th, I will “Challah-it-Forward” a loaf of totally fresh, tasty challah to you for your Shabbat table (If you are not residing in the Bay Area, this won’t be possible, but I’ll send you some Bay Area chocolates instead!). AND I will sponsor, in your honor, a $50 Butterfly Grant, ensuring more “Butterfly Effects.”

You, in return, will commit to two simple things:

1)   Do something kind (it does NOT need to include baking) for others, a la the Butterfly Effect;

2)   Share it with the wider community by writing a “Guest Challah Bloggah” post over the coming months.

Do it by yourself. Do it with your family. But please just enter your name to be a contender! Visit the Challah-it-Forward Facebook page to sign-up! And please post on your own walls to your own networks!

All the best, and a hearty Shabbat Shalom!

These could be on your Shabbat table!

Week 24: "'A Roof Over Our Heads' at 26!"

You just never know…this was definitely a “Throwback Week”—to senior year of high school!

The Place: Madison, Wisconsn.

The Year: 1990. Taylor Swift was just learning to walk, folks, this was a long time ago!

The Instigators: Former Wisconsin Governor Tony Earl was asked about “today’s youth,” to which he suggested that “apathy” was an apt descriptor. The nerve! Couple that with a Phil Collins MTV video called “Another Day in Paradise,” about how society literally turns the other way when confronted with the issue of homelessness.

The Challenge: To idealistic seniors in high school, no one was going to tell us that we were apathetic, throwing a blind eye to the problems around us.

The Solution: Get some friends together** and organize a benefit concert at our high school that combines our love of the arts with the raising of funds for a pressing charitable cause.

The Name: “A Roof Over Our Heads”

And so it began; committees were formed, talent was booked (Dance Ensemble, Minniesingers, Jazz West, Comedy Sportz), a theme song was written*, a logo was designed, a guest speaker was chosen (Tony Earl, who confirmed participation but was ultimately a no-show), and a raffle was created, with prizes donated by many local businesses. We reached out to the media, and received coverage (including a write-up in Madison’s Ishmus, and a feature on favorite radio station WORT).

With Jennifer Drapkin Trygstad, lifelong bestie...

Finally, on May 11, 1990, the magic happened; a couple hundred kids and their families, and an evening of entertainment (that honestly went on a little too long!) resulted in $3,200 donated directly to Transitional Housing, Inc., a non-profit dedicated to providing low-cost housing and support services to families and individuals in need.

While soon off to college, I made sure to create a big file folder full of relevant docs, and handed it off to Daniella Thome, hoping that, as a senior, she might continue the tradition, as least for another year…

What I learned this past week is that on April 18th, “A Roof Over Our Heads” will celebrate its 26th Anniversary! 26 years! How did this happen? Honestely, I’m not sure! For a few years, there must have been a "living memory” of how it all started, and the desire for it to continue. And then, due to someone’s foresight (if you’re out there, let us know who you are!), a formal club was established (with the backing of a faculty supervisor), ensuring its future.

I contacted West High School this week, and spoke to senior Katrina Hetico, current president of the “Roof Over Our Heads” Club, and she shared a bit about the group. 10-12 “regulars” meet every Wednesday over lunch, with various committees holding responsibilty for all facets of the spring concert. In addition, members also participate in local events throughout the year, such as Savory Sunday, a program that serves fresh, hot meals every Sunday to those in need.

I was also able to speak to current Executive Director of Porchlight (formerly known as Transitional Housing, Inc.) Steven Schooler, who estimated that the agency has received about $50,000 over the past 25 years from the benefits. This, from concerned high school students who are determined to make a difference.

In some ways, the current “Challah-it-Forward” challenge idea can be traced back to this important event 26 years ago. The joy that I received in the act of doing something to help others back then mirrors the warmth I experience each and every week that my family is now able to share a bit of what we bake.

But I actually think that the roots of “Challah-it-Forward” go back even further, to when I was a young boy, standing around the Shabbat table on Friday nights. For it was here that after the blessing over the wine and directly before the blessing over the challah, a toast was given by either my grandparents or my parents. Ancestors who were no longer with us were recalled, as were relatives living far away. Peace was wished for, both locally and around the world. And finally, the hope for “sustenance for all.” Sustenance, the idea each person, no matter how young or old, rich or poor, should have the resources to break bread and be nourished.

Words stick, and ideas stick, especially when they are repeated, literally week after week, year after year. When the top of my head barely reached the Shabbat table, my parents couldn’t have known that I, together with my friends, would as teenagers create a little benefit concert to help alleviate the injustices we saw around us. And I couldn’t possibly have known as a high school senior that our little “engine that could” would be chugging along a quarter of a century later.

I wish the current “Roof Over Our Heads” team only the best on April 18th, and thank them, and Porchlight, for doing their part…

Shabbat Shalom, and a good week ahead…

*

“A Roof Over Our Heads”
Music and Lyrics by Jessica Bartell

There’s a man on the corner
People say he’s not worth a cent
He doesn’t have a family
And he cannot pay his rent

People walk by and they turn their heads
They say he’s just a victim of fate
How can we care about him
How can we relate

There’s a roof over our heads tonight
There’s a roof over our heads
And the rain will fall on the heads of some
But at least ours are dry

We live in apartment
We can barely pay our rent
We don’t have many luxuries
We take the work that we can get

We’ve heard stories about the homeless
People living in the streets
And so we can be thankful
We’ve got a home and enough to eat

There’s a roof over our heads tonight
There’s a roof over our heads
And the rain will fall on the heads of some
At least ours are dry

If no one wants to help those
Who haven’t got a home
If everyone ignores them
If we leave them all alone

The problem won’t get better
In fact it will get worse
Homelessness is not a crime
It’s much more like a curse

The sky’s the roof over our heads tonight
It’s the tide between us and them
For the rain will fall on their heads tonight
We must help them ‘cause ours are dry
We must help them ‘cause ours are dry”

**Carey Bartell, Jessica Bartell, Jennifer Drapkin Trystad, Sarah Eisinger, Miles Henderson Lee, Kiva Liljequist, Josh Perlman, Sarah Richardson, Claire Sandler, Alex Shapiro, Jaala Spiro, Matt Tallman, Daniella Thome, Julianna Tillemo, plus others!

Week 23: "Sunday Dinner"

What could be better than a Shabbat meal? At the end of a long week, Friday night dinner affords family and friends the opportunity to gather, break bread together, reminisce about the week, and share that for which we are grateful. In our otherwise busy lives, the Sabbath rituals that begin at Sundown implore us to slow down and take the time to connect; with ourselves, others, and the world we all share.

Last week, as I was traveling back from five days of teaching in Arizona, I was not able to “challah-it-forward” on Friday with Aviva. How would I successfully complete the week’s challah challenge?! Luckily, it didn’t take long to think of a way to both bake and give over the weekend, for we could certainly share freshly baked bread with our cohousing community at our weekly Sunday night meal.

Cohousing is a model of community that is ancient at its root, and yet thoroughy modern in practice, particularly in our fast-paced, often individualistic society. Orginating in Denmark in the 1980s, cohousing communities presently number in the hundreds, and can be found all around the world.

What exactly is cohousing? An intentional community of sorts, in which a group of people seek a more meaningful connection with both their neighbors and the environment. Each cohousing community is unique in its design, but most have a certain number of private households that surround some kind of a shared courtyard. Most also have a “common house,” which often contains a community kitchen, living room, dining room, laundry facility, and guestroom.

This kind of community clearly has environmental benefits; from the shared common green space, to the resources saved with fewer washing machines, to space saved by each unit not needing its own individual guest rooms, the list goes on and on.

Just as important as these environmental benefits (for me at least) are the social benefits. While some neighborhoods do indeed have strong social fabrics, in which residents know and rely on one another, how many of us can actually say that we know 15 (in the case of smaller cohousing communities) to over 65 (in the case of larger communities) families that live in our neighborhood?!

The courtyard at Berkeley Cohousing.

Our cohousing community has young and old, gay and straight, single and partnered, families with children and empty nesters, those in the workforce and those who are retired. We depend on each other for the simplest of things (I thought I had eggs in the refrigerator; we need a bigger tent for our upcoming camping trip!), to life’s most profound moments (the passing of a loved one; the birth of a baby), and everything in-between. For our daughter Aviva, this contact with so many in the community is such a blessing; she’s able to regularly interact with folks from all different stages of life, and learn different things from each and every one of them.

The heart of our community is, hands down, our shared meals: Three times a week, Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday, we gather to eat, together. The assigned cooks work very hard preparing the meals, and take great pride in them (In the “Challah-it-Forward” tradition, one woman even makes a double-meal once a month, enough for 50, and gives away half of the portions to a local organization that provides support services to those living in poverty.)

The water-wash!

In a way, these three meals are all like Shabbat to me; stories are shared, lively discussions unfold, and those participating leave a little richer for having eaten in community. Thus, it was easy to substitute last Friday’s dinner with last Sunday’s meal. Since it wasn’t technically shabbat, instead of making traditional Challah, we made a whole-wheat loaf from "Healthy Bread in Five Minutes a Day". Perhaps the most interesting part for Aviva: instead of an egg-wash, there was a water wash! Literally, we painted a layer of water onto the loaves directly before they were placed in the oven.

And then at 6:30, when we heard the cowbell signalling it was time for dinner, we carried our fresh loaf over, and shared with community. What a wonderful way to BEGIN the week!

Week 22: "Bit by Bit, Putting it Together"

Last week I was lucky enough to attend an intensive leadership conference called Song Leader Boot Camp (SLBC). For two-and-a-half days, over 200 folks from around the country converged on St. Louis, MO, to learn, share, pray, and make music together. Celebrating its seventh year, I was part of the first ever PJ Library track. Thus, in addition to regular conference offerings, I was able to delve deeply into learning more about Harold Grinspoon’s literary initiative, which sends over 120,000 Judaic-inspired titles every month to families around the nation (and beyond).

While I initially didn’t know what to expect from the experience, it didn’t take long for me to reacquaint myself with the power of song, and how it touches both mind and heart in strong and profound ways. After the first day, I decided to challenge myself to write a song while there…but what would it be about? It didn’t take long to settle on one idea: “Challah-it-Forward!” Why not write a “song story,” telling the “Challahs in the Ark” folktale through music. Starting at 8 AM, after shuttling from the hotel to the conference venue, I wrote furiously throughout the day, until at 4 PM, I found myself plucking out the last line.

What to do next? Perform it for lots of folks at SLBC Late Night, of course! This nightly showcase, in which conference participants have exactly four minutes to share something musical with peers, was a highlight of the retreat, as it afforded the opportunity for folks to try out new works and be supportive of others. Luckily, I had the incomparable (and dear friend of 15 years) Shira Kline backing me up with guitar and harmonies.

Devon Kelley-Yurdin's artistic world.

While still in its early stages, the song elicited wonderful feedback, and the seed of an idea appeared; why not spread the message of “Challah-it-Forward” by recording the song, and then creating an accompanying illustrated book?! But who would design the artwork? Interestingly, the very next night I received an email from Devon Kelley-Yurdin, an amazing papercut artist I’ve known for a few years, asking if I had any ideas of folks who might be interested in collaborating on projects together. Go figure! I called her the following morning, and she is going to do some prelimininary designs for a couple of the spreads.

Though we haven’t had rain in California for six weeks, I think I can say that creatively speaking, when it rains, it pours! Stay tuned for updates, and maybe soon, a new musical track on the blog!

An added conference bonus--reconnecting with long-time Camp Ramah friend Elisa Heiligman-Recht!

Week 21: "Breaking Bread...Together!"

This past Friday, my family attended Camp it Up! Family Winter Camp. While we’ve attended this amazing organization’s summer camp for the last few years (complete with 100 degree days in the Sierra’s), winter camp promised snow, snow, snow, in beautiful Lake Tahoe. As fate would have it, the past few days have literally been the warmest on record, so no visits by snowy angels.

We thought it would be fun to Challah-it-Forward to the camp community, so after mixing, fermenting, and braiding the dough in Berkeley, we hopped in the car, planning to bake it fresh at camp later that day. After a few hours in a warm car, we discovered upon arrival that the challahs had expanded three-fold, and were bursting the seams of the cassorle pan lid where it was resting. That, along with baking at a higher altitude, and my continued hesitation about knowing when a challah is “done,” made for a very interesting baking drama, indeed. While I thought it would take longer than usual, at the 21 minute mark, they looked DONE, so I bit the bullet and took them out. Surprisingly, they looked great!; a fork came out clean, and a tap to the bottom produced a hollow sound. Did I miraculously pull this thing off, or what?!

Though not a Jewish camp, there is a lot of representation, so I offered to lead a very informal Kabbalat Shabbat singalong with my ukulele. Starting small in front of the lodge’s toasty fireplace, with each song, more folks joined in, until finally there were about 70, all singing a Shabbat version of “Goodnight Irene,” which finishes off with:

“Six days of creation
One day of rest
Shabbat has begun, songs have been sung
Sweet dreams may you now be blessed

Shabbat Shalom
Shalom, Shabbat
Shabbat Shalom
And Leila Tov
Shabbat Shalom”

Looking around at the assembled crowd, I wondered whether the two challahs we had prepared would be enough for everyone. But after lifting the challah to say the blessing, and breaking the loaves into six chunks, we started passing them around. Everyone took little pieces, plopped them in their mouths, and smiled; before you knew it, these two little challahs had put the sweet taste of Shabbat into 70 hungry mouths. What a wonderful way to start our holiday weekend…

Week 20: "The Joys of Giving"

Last Friday, I had the pleasure of visiting Gan Mah Tov Preschool in Oakland, to Challah-it-Forward with the little ones. On Thursday, the children made dough from scratch, pouring, whisking, and kneading with their tiny but powerful hands. On Friday morning, they had braided big, beautiful loaves, and fresh-baked aromas filled the hallways when I arrived. 

After meeting with the children and sharing the Challah-it-Forward folktale, the time to give was at hand! Holding beautifully arranged baskets of bread, the kids journeyed through the building, surprising the rabbis, an office administrator, and the janitor with fresh challahs. 

The excitement was palpable, and the hallways were filled with “giddy jumps, smiles, and laughter,” in the words of preschool director Anna Weininger. She also relayed that “while the idea of gemilut chasadim (acts of loving kindness) can be abstract for young children, baking challahs for others is something children can relate to.” The children’s joy reminded me of the warm, excited feelings that Mendel experienced in the folktale after initially leaving challahs in the ark. It is my belief that this kind of joy, literally felt by their whole beings (both mind and body), might contribute to the foundation of a life of giving, caring, and connecting with those in the wider community.

And on the flip side, the recipients conveyed such surprise and appreciation for having received this Sabbath treat. How often do we receive un-solicited gifts like this in our daily lives? And how much happier might we all be if we were on the giving and receiving ends of heartfelt gift-giving on a regular basis?

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After the challah deliveries, I performed a puppet version of “Challahs in the Ark.” Children watched as shadows flickered across the screen, recounting the story with ephemeral contrasts of darkness and light. Near the end of the show, the children marched behind the screen one-by-one with shadow puppet challahs, representing the act of giving that took place over weeks, months, and years. 

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We finished the day with a Shabbat celebration that included, of course, the partaking of fresh, homemade challah. After the children said the ceremonial blessings and started to enjoy the fruits of their own labor, I wondered whether the challahs tasted perhaps a bit sweeter than usual, a bit more satisfying, as the children may have felt on some deeper level that this challah was truly a symbol of the sharing and caring that create community.

Until next week…

Week 19: "Using Your Kindness"

And there it is; a spoonful of soggy cereal from Aviva’s bowl to mine. “Thank you, Aviva,” I manage to say, “How thoughtful of you!” A pause, and then she says, “I’m using my kindness. Are you going to use yours? Give Papa some cereal…”

Honestly, I was a little stunned. “Using your kindness?” From the mouth of a three-year-old? Where do kids learn this stuff?! She certainly hadn’t heard that phrase in our house. 

After a little questioning, I soon discovered the answer: preschool! Yes, in addition to picking up the glee of blurting out her new favorite word, “POO-POO,” at least 50 times per day, at the most inappropriate times and places (the dinner table, the grocery store check-out line, as a salutation to loving relatives who come to visit, you get the picture), now this: “Using Your Kindness.”

I love that phrase, for a couple of reasons. First, it assumes that everyone has kindness within them, it’s a quality that we all share. Second, the only way to strengthen it, like you would a muscle, is to actively use it. 

At drop-off that morning, I learned the source of this new phrase: Melissa! One of the all-star teachers who cares for my daughter every week-day. All of her teachers share different aspects of themselves with Aviva and her mates: Molly shares her love of music and rhythm; Claire shares her passion for art-making; Dana shares her connection to the soil and growing things with our own two hands; and Melissa shares her commitment to…mindfulnes.

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How exactly does she do this with such young ones? There are weekly walks (with two children at a time) to Aquatic Park, where they observe what’s going on in the natural world. There are nature walks around the neighborhood, where they pay attention to the beauty that lies in plain sight on the streets around us. There is group poetry-making, in which thoughts and images are translated into an economy of words. There are “mini-meditations,” where the children try to “make silence” for a few moments, connecting with their inner breadth.  And now this: “Using Your Kindness,” which focuses on looking outward, sharing of oneself with those with whom we regularly interact. Common to all of these is of course the present moment; how do I connect, right now, to the world around me, to myself, and to others?

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I’m actually reminded of an old Jewish adage by Hillel, which, though in some ways ubiquitous, I now appreciate with new insight:

“If I am not for myself, who will be for me?
If I am only for myself, who am I?
If not now, then when?”

How do we teach our children to be both advocates for themselves as well as carers and sharers. And when do we start teaching this?

I asked Melissa about this, and she said that she started “using your kindness” about four years ago, when she wanted some children who were not getting along to have some tools, some go-to strategies. If kids were not making the “healthiest of choices,” she would ask them if they were “using your kindness.” Instead of a scolding, this invited the kids to step back, think about it for a moment, and perhaps share how they were or were not being kind. It was such an effective approach that she’s introduced it to subsequent classes, and she’s been thrilled that many of the kids in Aviva’s cohort have co-opted the phrase, using it among themselves for all types of situations; when playing games, when initiatiating sharing moments, and when noticing that someone is feeling a little low.

It was in this “sharing our kindness” spirit that we decided to “Challah-it-Forward” to Aviva’s class on Friday afternoon, right before Shabbat. For the last snack of the day, bread was broken among friends, “Can I please have some more?’s” were echoed again and again, and smiles were shared as the sky began to darken. 

Thank you Molly, Claire, Dana, and Melissa, for your kindnesses, and here’s to all the wonderful community members who help raise our children each and every day. 

Week 18: "Monkey Mash-Ups and Milestones"

Photo by Gabees/iStock / Getty Images

Monkey Mash-Ups

“Once upon a time, there was a man who was traveling from village to village, balancing hats on his head and yelling ‘Caps for Sale, Caps for Sale!”

Many of us are familiar with this classic tale of monkey mimicry by Esphyr Slobodkina. Delighting children since it was first published over 70 years ago, it tells the story of a cap seller who must outwit a band of monkeys that steal all of his caps while he is resting in the shade of a tree. We’ve read and retold this story to Aviva for a long time, but this week it took an unusual twist, a mash-up, of sorts. For soon after I began retelling it, the main character and her wares were changed:

“No Abba, Aviva is now the man (in the story), and I am going to Challah-it-Forward challahs on my head to Lucia and Lena, my two friends.”

And just like that, the story was turned on its head, literally. From selling to giving, from caps to challahs. We had such a fun time imagining her balancing all of those challahs on her head. And when the monkeys stole them, we had to get them all back before they were eaten. In the end, challahs were raining down from the tree as Aviva expertly caught each one and placed them on her Keppe!

In addition to some hearty laughs, this mash-up illustrated a couple of things for me. First, despite some of the serious intention that underlies the “Challah-it-Forward” endeavor, there is levity and a sense of humor associated with it as well. I think that at Aviva’s age, both of these ingredients are essential for long-term, active engagement. Second, it illustrated that even when she protests and doesn’t want to participate (see Week 15), the underlying messages and values are still present, as evidenced by the fact that she is incorporating the central values of “Challah-it-Forward” into the imaginitive play that makes up most of her day.

Milestones

We’ve turned 18—weeks that is! Yes, this little project has chugged along for almost four months now! During this time, new recipes have been tried, new discoveries about our neighborhood have been made, new connections to community have been forged, and lots of mouth-watering challahs have been eaten.

In the Jewish tradition, the number “18” has special significance; according to Gematria, the spiritual interpretation of numbers, meaning is given to the combined number value of letters within a word. In “chai,” the Hebrew word for life, the “chet” is the 8th letter of the aleph-bet, and the “yud” is the 10th. When you combine them, you get…18! It is in this spirit that I toast the journey we’ve been on, and the journey that awaits. L’chaim!

Week 17: "Helping Hands"

“Two blue Triangles!”

We are sitting in a restaurant with out-of-town family, and passing the time with a game of Spot-It!, Jr., in which players identify matching images on sets of cards. Through the game, my daughter is playfully learning all about numbers, colors, and shapes, and hopefully having some fun in the process. 

These days, I’m learning some new shapes as well—challah shapes! For while I’m very familiar with the braided oblong challahs that normally grace the Shabbat table, and the round challahs that symbolize the new year, there are literally hundreds of other symbolic shapes that bakers use when making this traditional bread. In The Hallah Book, a classic challah-making “bible” by Freda Reider, recipes include The Dreidel Hallah for Hanukkah, The Hamantasch Hallah for Purim, The Ladder Hallah for Shavuot, and the Dove of Peace Hallah for any Sabbath. Julie Seltzer, a Torah Scribe with whom I had the pleasure of getting to know a few years back during an exhibition at The Contemporary Jewish Museum, bakes challah in different shapes every single week—inspired by the Torah portion that is being read in synagogues around the world!

Last week, I decided to try my hand at this—by literally shaping the challah in the form of a hand! Why a hand, you ask? In last week’s parsha, Vaera, God speaks of helping to free the Israelites from bondage in Egypt, and promises: “And I will redeem you with an outstretched arm.” (Exodus 6:6) This image reminded me both of the “helping hand” image that is so powerful in our our own contemporary lives, and its counterpart, “the stumbling block.” When are we “stumbling blocks,” getting in the way of others’ successes, and when are we “helping hands,” helping to lift up those who have fallen? And how do we teach the difference to our children?

As I’ve written before, we teach by example, and often unknowingly “shape” the way that our children act in the world. For example, Aviva’s been fascinated with puzzles for a while. When she was first learning, we suggested strategies that could help her along the way: look at the puzzle image carefully so you know where things are located, determine whether pieces are edge, corner, or interior, etc. Last night, after working on a construction puzzle before bed, Aviva turned to me and asked whether she could invite one of her younger preschool buddies over to do some puzzles with her. And then she said, very seriously: “He’s younger than me, so let’s leave this one together, and we can show him what it’s supposed to look like before we actually do it.”

Another example that comes to mind; when Aviva cried as a toddler and we didn’t always know why, we would first ask her if she could identify a reason (was she tired, hungry, mad, etc.), and then we would comfort her, often with a hug. These days, when she hears a baby cry in public, or a friend at school, she immediately asks why they are crying, and if she knows the child in question, often gives them a get-better hug.

It occurs to me that underlying the actions in both of these examples is a connection with one’s heart. For if we can experience both the pain and the joy associated with how we act, we can act in ways that encourage the best in ourselves and others. As we continue to "Challah-it-Forward" this year, I hope that more often than not, I lead by a “helping hand” rather than “stumbling block” example, and look forward to seeing how this ethos manifests itself in my daughter’s heart and actions. 

Week 16: "'A' is for Abe"

It was the evening before one of Aviva’s best friends’ birthday party. She was turning 4, and we’d been looking forward to celebrating for quite some time. In addition to my new favorite gift-book, “Before After” (see week 6), we wanted to create something special for her from scratch. But what could that be? Challah, of course, in the shape of an “F,” the first letter of the birthday girl’s name!

The backstory: Aviva became utterly fascinated with letters over winter break. She had been mildly interested before, singing the ABC’s, reading Sara Pinto's The Alphabet Room, and completing a Melissa and Doug Alphabet Art Puzzle on her own. She had even begun to spell her own name on her drawing pad. While we were excited about the world of letters that was beginning to enter the landscape, we were not in any hurry, as we knew (see Week 4) that when she did discover letters, there was no turning back.

But here she was during our winter holiday, surrounded by three generations (16 people in all) who had gathered to celebrate my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary, for five days! It didn’t take long for her to ask: “How do you spell Cousin Abe’s name? Let’s write it down!” An avalanche of spelled names soon ensued:

N-A-N-A   T-R-U-D-Y

Z-A-I-D-E   L-A-Z-E-R 

U-N-C-L-E   J-O-N

A-U-N-T   D-E-B-R-A

C-O-U-S-I-N   R-A-F-I

And on and on!

The letters were of course less than perfect, and their spatial orientations were all over the map, but there they were, nonetheless, the building blocks, the ingredients for all that will soon follow. And soon after we returned from our trip, she began asking for the spelling of actual words: first came “moon,” then came “stars,” then “Little Lumpty,” from said book, and then “Aurora” (Don’t ask where this request came from, I have no idea!).

Word Find: Daniel, Papa, Mark, Aurora, Roar

Her fascination actually reminds me of an old Jewish folktale in which a shepherd boy is sitting in synagogue. Not knowing how to read the prayers, he nonetheless knows the letters of the aleph-bet, and begins loudly reciting them, hoping that they will be “assembled” into words that can be understood. When some older congregants complain to the Rabbi, he admonishes them, and praises the efforts of the boy, for it is clear that the boy’s prayers had come from the heart.

As we have completed more than a quarter of our “Challah-it-Forward” Challenge, it is my hope that our actions are beginning to resonate with Aviva’s heart. That our small offerings, week after week, are “assembling” a notion of caring and sharing that will grow and flourish as she learns more about the complexity of life, and the roles that we all have in shaping it.

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Week 15: "Children Will Listen"

I don’t WANT to make Challah!

This, from the mouth of three-and-a-half-year-old Aviva, when I started mixing the ingredients for our weekly challah-bake last Friday. This refrain has been common of late, and it’s not limited to Challah-it-Forward; indeed, it’s entered every facet of daily life: I don’t want to _____________ (brush my teeth, eat breakfast, get dressed, go to school, come home from school, eat dinner, change into jammies, go to bed, take your pick!).

I understand not to take any of this personally; I think it’s what three-year-olds are supposed to do. They have so little control over most of their lives, so they assert themselves whenever they can, to show that they do in fact have power in this world, despite their pint-sizedness!

The flip side of “don’t want” is of course “want,” and whenever we are out and about, my daughter “wants” a lot! That funny-colored yogurt next to the plain-old real thing, that stuffed animal right near the register, that inappropriate book that’s placed too low on the shelf, you get the idea…

Over the past months, I’ve tried to address the “want, want, want” dynamic by helping her to differentiate between “wants” and “needs,” things we generally associate with survival, like food to eat, clothes to warm, a roof and four walls to protect, etc.: “Do you want that yogurt or do you need that yogurt?” “Do you want that stuffed animal, or do you need that stuffed animal?” While I don’t think she completely understands the difference yet (do we ever fully understand, even as adults?!), this strategy has in fact worked, and we’re able to gently get off the “want” bandwagon most of the time. Of course, sometimes we want (and dare I say need) to honor their wants, their choices, and so we find ourselves getting that yogurt and that stuffed bear.

But back to the challah. How do “wants” and “needs” play out in this scenario? It’s a little tricky. She clearly does not need to bake challah every week. It is not necessary for her physical survival, not in the least. And what of her spiritual survival? Again, there are many ways to feed her spirit, both Jewish and otherwise. And yet, I’ve found that the simple act of doing this, week after week, month after month, does indeed feed the spirit, does indeed feed the soul. And while we in fact don’t need to bake this bread to survive, some of the weekly recipients are in fact hungry, and do in fact need physical nourishment in the form of food. Thus, it's just as much for them than it is for us that we enter the kitchen each week to bake.

Except when it sometimes isn’t the two of us, but just me (see above). While I could try to make her join me, I’ve taken a different route. With each step of the process (initial mixing, shaping and braiding, egg-washing, and giving away), I gently ask if she’d like to join me. If she says “yes,” wonderful, if she says “no,” I respect that. What I’m hoping for is that the example I set week after week (the mixing, kneading, baking, and giving) will ultimaltely have a much more profound and lasting impact than small weekly battles of will.

I’m reminded of some lines from Stephen Sondheim’s “Into the Woods,” an incredible musical that deeply explores, among other things, parenting. There’s definitely a balance to be had between what we say to our children, and the examples that we set for our children. As we all venture into the woods of life in this new year, here are some thoughts to ponder:

“Careful the things you say
Children will listen
Careful the things you do
Children will see and learn

Children may not obey
But children will listen
Children will look to you
For which way to turn
To learn what to be
Careful before you say
“Listen to Me”
Children will listen

Careful the wish you make
Wishes are children
Careful the path they take
Wishes come true, not free

Careful the spell you cast
Not just on children
Sometimes the spell may last
Past what you can see
And turn against you
Careful the tale you tell
That is the spell
Children will listen”

Eventually, the smell of freshly baked challah always wins her over!

Week 14: "To Life, To Life, L'Chaim"

“To life, to life, l’chaim,
L’chaim, l’chaim, to life!”

This tune from “Fiddler on the Roof” that is sung every Friday night at our own dinner table was sung last Friday by 16 members of my extended family; we were all gathered in La Jolla, CA, to celebrate my parent's 50th wedding anniversary. 50 years! (What we didn’t know at the time was that “Fiddler” is also celebrating its 50th anniversary, as it opened on Broadway in September of 1964.)

The Shabbat Table

For as long as I can remember, this singing tradition (and its accompaning dancing mayhem) has been part of my family’s Friday nignt ritual; after the blessing over the wine and the first ceremonial drink, my parents make a Sabbath toast: remembering ancestors who are no longer alive; thinking about family members living too far away to be present; hoping for sustenance for all individuals; wishing for peace in our own country and around the world; and finally “But most importantly, ‘To Life, to Life, L’Chaim.’”

While our current lives are certainly very different from those portrayed in the classic musical, the passage of time has indeed created some interesting parallels, for we have all grown up, found life partners, moved away from the family nest (some nearer and some farther), and created families of our own. Thus, how wonderful to be able to gather to celebrate the matriarch and patriarch of this mishpucha!

A big part of the week was filled with tributes, some formal and others spontaneous, in which my brothers and I recounted the countless ways that our parents gave to both us and the wider community throughout the years. It was truly by example that we learned, and we pledged, in the presense of our own children, to pass on the values that were indelibly imparted to us.

Hanging out at the beach with the cousins!

Perhaps the greatest gifts were those of time and space; it is so rare for all of us, including the next generation of cousins, to gather and spend quality, unhurried time together. For our daughter Aviva, who according to her own calculations is “three and a half and a month and a week old” [all true], this provided such an incredible opportunity for her to really get to know the extended family of which she is now the youngest member.

Ellen from "So Other's May Eat, Inc.," picking up challahs on Friday afternoon.

Wanting to continue the “Challah it Forward” tradition, even while away from home, I had contacted an organization in La Jolla called “So Others May Eat, Inc.,” which provides weekly meals for those in need in San Diego’s coastal communities. On Friday morning, Sabbath loaves were baked (with help from cousin Abe—remember him from my father’s Guest Challah Bloggah column, when he was just three years old?). And on Friday afternoon, Ellen from S.O.M.E stopped by our house and picked up one of our loaves and one of my brothers loaves, which had been baked (and frozen) in Philadelphia (all the way across the country!) just days before. She served those loaves on Monday evening. It is my hope that some of the spirit that went into the making of those challahs (literally from coast to coast) was able to sustain and nourish those that partook.

A wonderful New Year to all!

Week 13: "This Land is Your Land"

What do Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings, Trini Lopez, Bruce Springstein, and Peter, Paul and Mary all have in common? They’re all responsible for the soundtrack of our lives over the past weeks, for they’ve all recorded versions of Woody Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land.” The quick backstory: having sung a ukulele version of this amazing tune to Aviva since she was a baby, we subsequently began sharing an incredible picture book version by Kathy Jakobsen--the exact copy of which I had first gifted to my now 18 year-old niece Evelyn 16 years ago!

I don’t know exactly how it happened, but then Aviva got her hands on our iPad and quickly discovered that in addition to Woody Guthrie’s version, it’s been recorded by dozens of others, in countless styles. Over the past weeks, we’ve probably heard it 50 times per day, easily! She marches over to the iPad (this is the ONLY thing we let her use it for!) picks her version of choice, runs back to the living room floor, and dances away.

It didn’t take her long to zero in on her favorite version, by Peter, Paul and Mary. After the 100th listen, we implored her to try out some other PP&M songs, and she quickly fell head over heels with their entire library! Looking at the multitude of album covers on iTunes, she still enthusiastically points to each one and says, “There’s Mary!”

If there could indeed be a soundtrack for the “Challah it Forward” project, “This Land is Your Land” would be a mighty fine contender. For it’s such a powerful song, with such a universal and timely message. In addition to the first few summer camp verses that we all know, it’s the final verses that keep this song so very relevant:

“As I went walking I saw a sign there,

And on the sign it said “No Trespassing.” 

But on the other side it didn’t say nothing, 

That side was made for you and me.

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people, 

By the relief office I seen my people; 

As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking,

Is this land made for you and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me, 

As I go walking that freedom highway; 

Nobody living can ever make me turn back 

This land was made for you and me.”

It is these lines that have been playing in the background as father and daughter combined, whisked, kneaded, shaped, egg-washed, and waited patiently for our challahs to rise in the hot oven each week. And it was these lines that we heard this week, as we were fortunate to have another baker in the kitchen, Nana Trudy, traveling all the way from Wisconsin with Zaide Lazer. In addition to walks around town, lunches out together, art projects galore, and nightly Hanukkah celebrations, Nana Trudy got up early on Wednesday to help us prepare challahs to deliver to guests of the Berkeley Food and Housing Project’s Annual Holiday Meal.

After dropping off two fresh loaves mid-morning, we spontaneously found ourselves strolling down Telegraph Avenue (in all its Berkeley-ness) and ended up at arguably the world’s best independent music store, Amoeba Music. After first educating Aviva about ancient artifacts like vinyl records and CD’s, we ended up in folk music, at the PP&M section, small as it was…staring out at us were TWO copies of “The Best of Peter, Paul and Mary, 10 (Ten) Years Together” an album that I vividly remember from when I was a child (only then it was contemporary music!).

Two copies of this classic CD...what to do? All we needed was one? After a moment of thought and some heartfelt laughter, we knew exactly what to do; buy one copy for ourselves, and “Peter, Paul, and Mary-it-Forward” the other copy to Aviva’s preschool. For it truly is this new generation that has to really listen to this music, be inspired by it, and then go out there and change the world.

Happy Holidays to all!

Week 12: "Random Acts of Kindness"

Small hands kneading, tiny fingers rolling, whole minds concentrating, trying to tackle “the braid.” Such were the early magical moments at a recent “Challah it Forward” program at the Jewish Community Center San Francisco’s Helen Diller Preschool. It was a meaningul event, as this was the first “Challah it Forward” institutional program that had been planned after my mitzvah project began in the early Fall.

After I recounted the “Challahs in the Ark” folktale to ten eager students selected from the preschool’s oldest class, Rabbi Batshir Torchio (the Senior Educator at JCCSF who had stayed up late into the night preparing many pounds of dough!) led the students through the kneading, rolling, braiding, and egg-washing.

While the challah baked, I performed the shadow puppet version of the tale to 40 children, after which I facilitated a “challah hakafah” of sorts, with each student parading behind the shadow puppet screen with pre-made challah puppets.

The latter magical moments occurred at the end of the morning, when a selection of the oldest children congregated to “Challah it Forward.” Where did this occur? The “Grand Lobby” of course. How did this occur? Through “Random Acts of Kindness.” The children and teachers would identify passersby, approach them and say hello, and then offer them an unsolicited, surprise loaf of Sabbath bread! The expressions of joy and utter appreciation exhibited by among others, a community librarian, two women strolling by, a grandmother and grandchild, and a mother resting on a bench, were both precious and priceless. The children were no doubt proud, as they should have been, and I was wholly inspired to continue the “Random Acts” tradition with challah, and perhaps more. Thoughts about “Random Acts of Kindness” that you’ve commited, or plan to? A pleasant week to all!