Yom rishon, 3 Sivan 5771.
This is a PSA for folks in the Gush; but anyone anywhere in the world who wants to donate to the cause is more than welcome to participate!
Are you tired of shlepping to Jerusalem every time you or a family member needs an x-ray? Very soon you'll be able to have them taken right here in the Gush. But a little help is needed to make this a reality.
If you've spent any time outside the yishuv lately, you may have seen a friend of ours riding around the Gush on a red Vespa. His name is David Bogner, and he actually rides from Efrat to Beer Sheva and back every day on his scooter.
To mark his 50th birthday (this month), David has decided to take a 1,000 mile (approx. 1,600 km) ride around our beautiful country on his Vespa. He's calling it the "Midsummer Night's Dream Ride," and he is inviting residents of the Gush to sponsor the ride to the benefit of the Efrat Emergency Medical Center's nearly completed Radiology Suite.
All of us stand to benefit from being able to get X-rays taken locally; but there is only a short time left to participate.
So we're writing to ask you to sponsor the "Dream Ride" and the Radiology Center. If enough of us make really modest donations, this project can be up and running in a matter of days.
You can read more about the ride on David's blog (http://www.treppenwitz.com/2011/05/a-midsummer-nights-dream-ride.html) or go directly to the EEMC site (http://efratemergencymedical.org/mndr.html) and click on one of the yellow "Dream Ride" buttons to submit your donation through their secure server.
Our kids, who maim themselves routinely (puh-puh-puh), thank you for participating in this important project!
Dear Bogner: The Major says to watch out for rocks, and to remember to wear your Air Defense Equipment, aka "helmet." Ruti just reminds you to drink lots of water. Pit stops aren't just for tires. Happy birthday. You're almost an adult.
Showing posts with label Treppenwitz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Treppenwitz. Show all posts
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Thursday, July 9, 2009
City of Dreams**
Yom chamishi, 17 Tamuz 5769, Ta'anit Shiva Asar b'Tamuz.
The Dearly Beloved and I are in a walking competition, started by our friends and fellow bloggers over at Chez Treppenwitz. As much of our daily life involves sitting -- my husband with a guitar and student, and I in front of the computer -- the opportunity to walk off a little pudge competitively seemed like a good idea. It has been wonderful, at many different levels.
We are spending some real quality time together. We feel better and stronger -- and, yes, we are getting lighter, ever so slowly. The kids are very supportive. Frequently throughout the day, they will ask how many steps we have walked so far. There is nothing quite so rewarding as getting "knucks" from your proud and encouraging teenangel. (Sports Guy: "Nice job, Ema. Give us some knucks!")
Today, we were too busy to get to our customary evening walk until very late at night. But, see -- that is the point of competition. If we were doing this on our own, we would look at the clock, and our fully-functioning brains would say, "Naaah. Not tonight." But thanks to our buddy Trep, our glory-drunk egos scream "Slacker!!! Get out there and get it done! Tie on those tennies, right NOW!"
Now here is the delicious part of going out so late. The beautiful black sky is filled with stars. Some of them are red. There is a planet near the moon, clearly visible. The Dearly Beloved says, with such awe in his voice, "Can you believe what our eyes can see? Those stars are billions of years old, and light-years away! And yet we can see them, and even know which ones are hot and which ones are cool. We can see the valleys of the moon; and it's over 300,000 kilometers from Earth. Amazing!" I am unbelievably happy. He still is as excited about astronomy as he was as a kid. He points out Scorpius, and Cassiopeia (which has always been one of my favorites). We marvel together at the gift of sight Hashem has given us. Each of us says a silent prayer that He lets us keep this gift, for many years, in good health.
At a bend in the road, we suddenly hear pounding feet behind us. We turn slightly, without fear, to be sure that we are not in the jogger's way. In the city, in the Old Country, we would not have been walking by choice at this hour. And if for some reason we were, the sound of running feet approaching would have caused us to whirl, and get into a defensive fighting position. Our hearts would have been in our throats, hoping that this would not be the time when we would join others in our community who had been mugged or worse. We walk and talk, and before we know it, we arrive at the brand-new "Park shel Sport."
For a change, there is no one there. So we exercise a bit, under the remarkable sky.
"What does your pedometer say?" He asks me. When I tell him my step count, he says it's time for us to head home. As we are walking up our street, the fog rolls in that has been hovering over the Mediterranean. It brings with it dew that we literally watch being deposited on the cars. "Since we moved here, I finally understand our tefillot," I say to him. "Davening for dew in the middle of the Baltimore summer rainy season never made too much sense. But of course -- the Jewish calendar was made for Israel." As simple as this concept is, it becomes very clear to us, as we watch it taking place before our eyes.
And when we return home, the clouds that always remind me of the ananei ha'kavod envelope us in a cool and soothing embrace.
So now it's far too late to still be awake. Instead of setting my alarm to get up early enough to ingest some caffeine before the fast, I am enjoying the feeling of gratitude for the simple Jewish life I have wanted for so long.
"It is on fast days that peace and truth are hewn out."...
..."May they become forever times of joy and celebration -- festive days."*
*The quotes above are taken from Rabbi Sir Jonathan Sacks' English translation of the Selichot for Seventeenth of Tamuz, The Koren Siddur, p. 954.
**City of Dreams is the title a wonderful song written by my dear son, known to you here as Soldier Boy. I hope one day to post a good recording of it.
Glossary:
Shiva Asar b'Tamuz: The fast of the 17th of Tamuz is one of the days that commemorates the destruction of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem.
Tefillot: prayers
Davening: praying
Ananei haKavod: Clouds of Glory that protected the Israelites in the wilderness
The Dearly Beloved and I are in a walking competition, started by our friends and fellow bloggers over at Chez Treppenwitz. As much of our daily life involves sitting -- my husband with a guitar and student, and I in front of the computer -- the opportunity to walk off a little pudge competitively seemed like a good idea. It has been wonderful, at many different levels.
We are spending some real quality time together. We feel better and stronger -- and, yes, we are getting lighter, ever so slowly. The kids are very supportive. Frequently throughout the day, they will ask how many steps we have walked so far. There is nothing quite so rewarding as getting "knucks" from your proud and encouraging teenangel. (Sports Guy: "Nice job, Ema. Give us some knucks!")
Today, we were too busy to get to our customary evening walk until very late at night. But, see -- that is the point of competition. If we were doing this on our own, we would look at the clock, and our fully-functioning brains would say, "Naaah. Not tonight." But thanks to our buddy Trep, our glory-drunk egos scream "Slacker!!! Get out there and get it done! Tie on those tennies, right NOW!"
Now here is the delicious part of going out so late. The beautiful black sky is filled with stars. Some of them are red. There is a planet near the moon, clearly visible. The Dearly Beloved says, with such awe in his voice, "Can you believe what our eyes can see? Those stars are billions of years old, and light-years away! And yet we can see them, and even know which ones are hot and which ones are cool. We can see the valleys of the moon; and it's over 300,000 kilometers from Earth. Amazing!" I am unbelievably happy. He still is as excited about astronomy as he was as a kid. He points out Scorpius, and Cassiopeia (which has always been one of my favorites). We marvel together at the gift of sight Hashem has given us. Each of us says a silent prayer that He lets us keep this gift, for many years, in good health.
At a bend in the road, we suddenly hear pounding feet behind us. We turn slightly, without fear, to be sure that we are not in the jogger's way. In the city, in the Old Country, we would not have been walking by choice at this hour. And if for some reason we were, the sound of running feet approaching would have caused us to whirl, and get into a defensive fighting position. Our hearts would have been in our throats, hoping that this would not be the time when we would join others in our community who had been mugged or worse. We walk and talk, and before we know it, we arrive at the brand-new "Park shel Sport."
For a change, there is no one there. So we exercise a bit, under the remarkable sky.
"What does your pedometer say?" He asks me. When I tell him my step count, he says it's time for us to head home. As we are walking up our street, the fog rolls in that has been hovering over the Mediterranean. It brings with it dew that we literally watch being deposited on the cars. "Since we moved here, I finally understand our tefillot," I say to him. "Davening for dew in the middle of the Baltimore summer rainy season never made too much sense. But of course -- the Jewish calendar was made for Israel." As simple as this concept is, it becomes very clear to us, as we watch it taking place before our eyes.
And when we return home, the clouds that always remind me of the ananei ha'kavod envelope us in a cool and soothing embrace.
So now it's far too late to still be awake. Instead of setting my alarm to get up early enough to ingest some caffeine before the fast, I am enjoying the feeling of gratitude for the simple Jewish life I have wanted for so long.
"It is on fast days that peace and truth are hewn out."...
..."May they become forever times of joy and celebration -- festive days."*
*The quotes above are taken from Rabbi Sir Jonathan Sacks' English translation of the Selichot for Seventeenth of Tamuz, The Koren Siddur, p. 954.
**City of Dreams is the title a wonderful song written by my dear son, known to you here as Soldier Boy. I hope one day to post a good recording of it.
Glossary:
Shiva Asar b'Tamuz: The fast of the 17th of Tamuz is one of the days that commemorates the destruction of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem.
Tefillot: prayers
Davening: praying
Ananei haKavod: Clouds of Glory that protected the Israelites in the wilderness
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
No pressure. But let the music speak to you.
Yom chamishi, 20 Iyar 5769.
Years ago, a dear friend who was living in Givat Ze'ev told us about a community project that had to be called to a halt due to Jewish history.
Seems that the gas station that was being built had to be stopped, as the excavation of the site had dug up Hashmonean ruins. We marveled together about how a Jew in Israel is blessed to set his feet down, over and over again, in the paths upon which his great forefathers walked.
When someone else says it best, I might as well take a break and let him talk. The following pearl shone forth from Chez Treppenwitz yesterday; and I could not pass up sharing it with you.
The importance of having access to the piano -- David Bogner
http://www.treppenwitz.com/2009/05/the-importance-of-having-access-to-the-piano.html
As I drive to work each day through the breadbasket of ancient Judea, the ripening orchards, vineyards, and fields I pass remind me that just as in the days when the Temples stood in Jerusalem, the first wheat from the southern slopes of the Hevron hills will be ready just in time for Shavuot (signaling the traditional start of the wheat harvest).
Shortly after we moved here, our (then) 7 year old son Gilad made a memorable observation.
He had been taking piano lessons in the US, but was on a forced break in his musical studies due to our move. Even though he remained keenly interested in music, we explained to him that it made no sense to start his lessons with an Israeli teacher until our lift arrived and he had a piano in the house to play.
At the same time, being in an Israeli school with a strong religious Zionist curriculum, he was also starting to become aware of the direct connection between the land of Israel and the mitzvot (commandments) found in the Torah.
One morning after our lift had arrived and he had finally restarted his music lessons, he said to me, "Abba, being a Jew outside of Israel is sort of like someone taking piano lessons but not having a piano to practice on."
From the mouth of babes...
As Bogner so famously says: "Don't thank me. I'm a giver."
Hashmonean: the period during which the Chanukah story takes place
Years ago, a dear friend who was living in Givat Ze'ev told us about a community project that had to be called to a halt due to Jewish history.
Seems that the gas station that was being built had to be stopped, as the excavation of the site had dug up Hashmonean ruins. We marveled together about how a Jew in Israel is blessed to set his feet down, over and over again, in the paths upon which his great forefathers walked.
When someone else says it best, I might as well take a break and let him talk. The following pearl shone forth from Chez Treppenwitz yesterday; and I could not pass up sharing it with you.
The importance of having access to the piano -- David Bogner
http://www.treppenwitz.com/2009/05/the-importance-of-having-access-to-the-piano.html
As I drive to work each day through the breadbasket of ancient Judea, the ripening orchards, vineyards, and fields I pass remind me that just as in the days when the Temples stood in Jerusalem, the first wheat from the southern slopes of the Hevron hills will be ready just in time for Shavuot (signaling the traditional start of the wheat harvest).
Shortly after we moved here, our (then) 7 year old son Gilad made a memorable observation.
He had been taking piano lessons in the US, but was on a forced break in his musical studies due to our move. Even though he remained keenly interested in music, we explained to him that it made no sense to start his lessons with an Israeli teacher until our lift arrived and he had a piano in the house to play.
At the same time, being in an Israeli school with a strong religious Zionist curriculum, he was also starting to become aware of the direct connection between the land of Israel and the mitzvot (commandments) found in the Torah.
One morning after our lift had arrived and he had finally restarted his music lessons, he said to me, "Abba, being a Jew outside of Israel is sort of like someone taking piano lessons but not having a piano to practice on."
From the mouth of babes...
As Bogner so famously says: "Don't thank me. I'm a giver."
Hashem has been very busy beautifying the yishuv lately. Enjoy!
Glossary:Hashmonean: the period during which the Chanukah story takes place
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