Some say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. And, of course, the common belief is diamonds are a girl's best friend. But here's the key(s) to my heart. I'll give you some clues--it's very large, crafted of wood, and it has eighty-eight black-and-white keys. Yep. On Wednesday, after MANY YEARS of craving a piano, we bought one! I am so excited and exultant about it that I am even posting my first ever PICTURE into a blogpost! Here it is--a real beauty, one of a kind.



 

It's nearly a hundred years old (doesn't look a day over ninety, right?!) but it's been totally refurbished on the outside with some inside work done too. It has a sweet, rich sound and the keys are free and not heavy. It is PERFECT! I am whole again.

I've been playing piano since I'm five and I've come to realize it is a soul thing for me. Not a luxury but a need. I use piano to process, to thinktank, to muse, and to work out negative emotions. Nothing like one of those key-pounding stacatto pieces where you get to really take out your anger! :-)

I am so grateful to have the gift of music in my life. Come over--I'll play you something!

Cute title, huh? To set the stage, let me go back in time for a moment. When I was a kid growing up (I'm not THAT old!) twenty years ago (Okay, maybe I am old!), the bulk of Jewish literature was comprised of one of two fundamental themes, by which I mean, of course, Holocaust and ba'alei teshuvah (returnees to Orthodox Judaism). This is probably one of the core reasons I found my way to Steinbeck and Hesse. But I digress....

Today, thankfully Jewish literature has become a lot more varied and even exotic (I highly recommend Targum's new novel, The Morning Star, by Meir Uri Gottesman, a phenomenal writer!), but there is a new genre that has exploded, pardon the pun, on the scene which is disturbing to me. I am referring to Moslem extremist/terrorist literature. Here are some excerpts of this emerging genre--all from books geared to kids ages 9-12:

"Will the trio be able to stop the evil terrorists from destroying Bais Yaakov of Bloomfield?!"

"Will Havaja Jamil Abdul El Majnun Chamarah get his long-awaited promotion?"

"The boys want to help prove Alhami innocent by getting the real terrorist, Alwari, convicted. Meshulem has announced his plan to et Alwari back to America from Pakistan to stand trial."

And then, of course, there's a new comic strip where pint-sized FBI agents are nabbing Arab furniture deliverymen in a sting on what they believe is a shady operation.

I have two objections. The first is the articles I have read on sites like JPost and Arutz 7 about how terrible it is that Palestinian children are being indoctrinated with anti-Israel and anti-Semitic rhetoric. It always makes me feel slightly nauseous. So why is it okay for us to push the same kind of doctrine to our children? Are we not "above" such petty and virulent tactics?

And secondly, Islamic extremism is an enormous, gaping threat, not only to the Jewish People but to the entire world. Innocent men, women, and children have been murdered in its name. Does it not belittle, cheapen, and even exploit this terrible monster when we peddle Islamic extremism as a sensationalist, exciting plot for kids' novels? What message are we really giving our children through books and comics like these?

What do YOU think?

We had wonderful friends over for Shabbos and, as is our wont, we mother fell into the sacred ritual of bemoaning our parenting foibles.

"Do you also go through kippas (skullcaps) like they're disposable?" she asks me. I groan in empathy.

"Does your son go through a pair of tzitzis (four-cornered garments with fringes) every month because he bites off the strings?" I kvetch.

"No, actually," she admits. Truth is, my kids don't really lose their kippas either; I was just trying to be polite :-). Hmmmm..... This short exchange prompted me to look at lost yarmulkas and gnawed-at tzitizs in light of the greater picture of life's challenges. What one person suffers from, the other person simply breezes over, and vice versa. What's more, God tailors specific challenges for specific people, equipping them with the means for dealing with them properly. And most importantly, every person's unique challenge is fully justified in feeling that their challenge is challenging--even if their next-door neighbor seems to be dealing with something Herculean in comparison.

There's a neat little sigh of relief for me in contemplating this phenomenon. Yeah, it's frustrating to replace yet another little pair of tzitzis. But it would really bug me to scrounge around for lost yarmulkes every morning! Most of the time, in acknowledging our tzuress (challenges), I think we'd rather keep our own than trade with the next guy. What do you think?