Dei'ah veDibur - Information & Insight
  

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15 Kislev 5760 - November 24, 1999 | Mordecai Plaut, director Published Weekly
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Letters, Eitzes, Feedback
Shabbos Candles

by Devoiry Spitzer, age 8, England

Every Friday, it was Ruthi's job to make sure that there were Shabbos candles. One Friday Ruthi came home late from school and forgot about the candles. All the shops were closed already and it was drawing near to Shabbos. Well, you can imagine they didn't know what to do.

Their neighbors were not frum but they still had a box left over from the war. That Shabbos, the neighbors' uncle, who stayed by them, said, "Let's light candles, too." So they lit Shabbos candles.

The next morning, Chani, Ruthi's sister, heard screaming from upstairs so they went to ask what happened. They couldn't believe what they heard: the uncle had died sometime during the night. And he had the mitzva of lighting Shabbos candles the last day of his life.

Devoiry's older sister writes:

Thank you for a wonderful newspaper. The above is a true story.

An avid reader,

Blimi

Credit Where It's Due

D. G. from Har Nof writes:

In reference to the poem "The Cold of Colds," I submit the poem "The Common Cold" by Ogden Nash in his book, "Good Intentions," copyright 1942.

"Go hand yourself, you old M.D.!

You shall no longer sneer at me,

Pick up your hat and stethoscope,

Go wash you mouth with laundry soap..."

And so on, until the end --

"But what derision History holds,

For the man who belitted the Cold of Colds!"

The truth, dear readers, is that your editor confronted our writer, who will surely hide behind her alias now even though her identity was detected by her children in England and Australia, and accused her of plaigerism. To which she replied, "When my brother (a very distinguished posek today) and I were growing up, we used to challenge one another's memories with feats of memorization." This included Chaucer, Shakespeare and other poets, among which was Ogden Nash. Some fifty years later, her head is still so filled with Golden Trashery from Ogden Nashery that she has confused original poetry with the Incomparable Star. His version in its entirety is, admittedly, much better. That is the psak of Yated's Family Editor.

Now that we have righted the wrong, shall the reader forgive her?

 

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