HOME & FAMILY

To his teacher he is a wild nuisance. To me, he is a vivacious joy.

To her brother she is a whiny pest. To me, she is an expressive orator.

To me, it is a deafening racket. To my children, it is a melodious tune.

The Grant
A story by A. Bat-Melech

Part I

Rabbi Menachem Yosefovich, the yeshiva manager, nervously paced the small office allocated for the yeshiva's administrative needs. What are we going to do? How can we ever cover our huge debts?

Where There's a [Divine] Will
a story by A. Ohr

A deep silence reigned in the room, a heavy, oppressive, pained quiet. They looked at one another in shock. The oldest son adjusted his eyeglasses, studied the page of the will and attempted to digest what he had just read aloud to the rest of his brothers.

BOOK REVIEW
City On Fire
Compiled and edited by Sorah Shapiro Targum/Feldheim
Reviewed by Ziporah Zien

Several years ago we read a story in the Yated of a Jewish man who was saved from marrying a Dutch woman, in a church. As he strode toward her seamstress' high- rise apartment house in the Amsterdam suburb, on Yom Kippur, an El Al plane crashed into it. He returned to Israel to learn more about the One Who cared to call him back.

Letter from the Editor

Re: In Favor of Epidurals Where Indicated

Pending a more formal and educated letter from a professional source, I feel it my duty to report a very strong, emotional reaction to our recent article which came down strongly against epidurals and in favor of pure natural childbirth without drugs of any kind.

AQUARIUMS
by Ruth Lewis

Fiction, but it does reflect the world out-there, and you are urged to extract the several messages provided by this engaging . . ..

POET'S CORNER
"Ner Ish Uveiso" -- Keeping the home fires burning

Chanuka, a home-based celebration, a victory of the Jewish home, be it ever so humble, against outside influences

Home-Suite-Home
by CZK & SW

Outworn carpet, paint is peeling,
Ugly flyspecks on the ceiling,
Cracked tiled floors,
Old-fashioned doors,
Messy chocolate fingerprints,
Toys about, despite my hints.
Closets are few
But nothing I can do
For there is no place
In that small space
Which we call Home.

So we can't all sit at kitchen table
But we squish as many as we are able.
Visitors welcome, don't mind the mess.
There's always room -- well, more or less.
We really should move, that I know,
But you probably won't get me to go,
Because we prefer this to anywhere.
My family's lair
Is better den
Than any other that I ken.
We call it Home.

How many mitzvos fill this house?
Smiles extended, anger doused,
Overnight guests
Wedged in with the rest.
Blessings made, Shabbos observed,
Tradition faithfully, happily preserved.
So do not coax us, do not tell,
"You'd be better off if you could sell"
That place that we call Home.