Wednesday Words

Today I don't have just one word to share with you.  Today is one of those days where one word just won't do it.

Let me first tell you a short story.

My Bubby is 101 (coming up on 102) years old.  I love spending time with her because the wealth of her knowledge about the past and the nature of humanity is impossible to find anywhere else.  I remember hearing her stories about our family since I was very young.  I remember all the pictures in her apartment and could tell you all the stories about them.

But one day not too long ago I noticed something in her bedroom that I somehow had never noticed in all my years of visiting with her: a poster.  It was nicely framed and had a lot of words in it--but somehow I'd never 'seen' it in all this time.  A little bit surprised at myself, I stood and read what it had to say, never dreaming that what the words were saying would be even more surprising.

Here is what it says:

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

I was pole-axed.  I had been living these words already for so many years but here they were written down in a beautifully clear form.  

I give them to you today as they were given to me: my Bubby had bought this poster nearly 80 years ago.  Today when I told her how much I admired it she told me I should take it home with me, that it was far better that I should own it because I valued it and could appreciate it.

Like me you may wonder who wrote these words and where they came from.  The Internet is a beautiful thing.  :)  

It was a man named Max Ehrmann who wrote this prose poem entitled Desiderata; meaning 'desired things' in Latin.  It was possibly written in 1927, and was only discovered years later.  I hope it gives you as much meaning as it does to me.

Friday Apology

Drat it, I've really got to stop this from becoming a habit. 

But you see, yesterday was the first night of Passover, and that's a pretty big deal in my family.  We all get together and eat lots of food and talk about how grateful we are that we aren't slaves in Egypt anymore. 

Sounds simple, right?

Not right.

Number one, we don't live very close, so we have to make a trip to get together.  Number two, when I say lots of food, I mean Jewish quantities of food--as in, it's not a feast unless there's food enough for three times the amount of people who are there.  Number three, the Haggadah.  This directs the Passover Seder and you read through it to commemorate what happened those thousands of years ago.  Only we seem to talk less about the actual story, and more about arguing over obscure passages and what basic words mean.  (very Jewish)

Don't misunderstand me: I am all for Passover.  I appreciate the idea of having a holiday that remembers what happened to my people thousands of years ago.  I'm grateful that I'm not a slave in Egypt.  I'm grateful to be alive. 

I'm less grateful to be participating in what I call 'Jewish Algebra' every year. 

The part of the Haggadah I most object to is where Talmudic scholars argue about how many plagues God sent against Egypt.  For those of you with a smattering of bible knowledge, you know that the answer is 10.  Apparently the Talmudic scholars couldn't leave it there--they were Jewish and had to argue about everything--because there's a three page section talking about 'the finger of God' sending ten plagues, so therefore when the 'Hand of God' shows up, it must mean at least fifty plagues--and so on and so on, until we could possibly end up with the Egyptians suffering from 250 plagues. 

Now, if you are interested in what various scholars throughout time thought of the Passover, this is a mildly interesting section. 

However, do we have to read this same passage every year?  It doesn't really add to the miracle of Passover (whether God sent 10 plagues or 250, we still got out of there) and it seems like the Talmudic scholars are just trying to play 'God Loves Us Best Because He Sent Even More Plagues Against The Egyptians.'  Yes Talmudic scholars, the Jews are the Chosen People.  What exactly made God choose us, however, is up for grabs.  (personally I think it was because we're the most stubborn and argumentative people on the planet.  God knew that if he could just get the basic rules through our thick skulls we'd never ever forget them)  So please stop wallowing in your self-importance. 

Was that a bit harsh?  Maybe.  But perhaps I just have trouble fake-arguing the same points every year just for the sake of tradition.  Not that I'm against tradition.  I just like my tradition to mean something more than a forced recitation of centuries old arguments. 

Wednesday Word: Hamantaschen

This is probably not a very familiar word to most of you.  In fact, if you're not Jewish--or don't have close friends who are Jewish--it's likely you've never even heard this word before. 

But it is not just a word: it is a cookie.

Not only that!  But it is a cookie with an interesting history.

(What can I say?  It is a Jewish cookie.)

A long long time ago in the land of Persia there was a king named Xerxes whose chief adviser was a man named Haman.  Now, there were a lot of Jews living in Persia, and Haman hated all of them.  (because one man named Mordecai refused to bow to him, Haman wanted to kill not just Mordecai, but all the Jews as well.  Jeesh.)  So Haman told Xerxes that the Jews in the land were a dangerous people and should all be eradicated.  And because Xerxes had a very large kingdom and had no idea what half the people he ruled were like, he gave Haman permission to do what he wanted.  But Mordecai was the uncle of Xerxes' Queen, Esther, and he told his niece to plead with Xerxes for not just her life, but the lives of all her people.  (this was slightly dangerous, since if she went before the king without him summoning her, he could have her killed.  But he liked her so he didn't kill her) So eventually Esther tells the king about Haman's plot and Xerxes orders Haman to be hung on the gallows Haman had constructed in his backyard in anticipation of hanging Mordecai there.  (Hoisted on his own petard, wot wot.)  And then Xerxes declares that all the Jews in the land are safe and he will not let anyone ever try to commit genocide on them ever again. 

The End.

(for a more complete version, see the book of Esther in the Bible)

Nice story, right?  Of course right.  But this is where the story of the cookie takes an alarming turn.  See, growing up, I was always told that Hamantaschen was a cookie we made for Purim (the celebration of the Jews not all dying in Persia) and that it was made in a triangle because Haman wore a three cornered hat.

Furious internet searching has corroborated this fact.

Hamantaschen!

Which leads me to the strange part of this word: why does Haman get a cookie named after him?

I mean he almost killed thousands and thousands of Jews (possibly more) and we give him a cookie.

Does Hitler get a cookie?  No.

Did Pol Pot get a cookie?  No.

Did Stalin?  No.

But Haman, yes, we give Haman a cookie. 

Perhaps because he didn't succeed in his genocidal plans.  It is sort of a celebrational cookie.  But then why not name it for Esther?  Or Mordecai?  Or even Xerxes (as thick as he was). 

No.  We must name the cookie for the evil Haman so we will never ever forget just how much we hate him.

And every Purim we read the story of Esther and every time Haman's name is said we boo loudly and use noisemakers to drown it out. 

You have to admit, when it comes to 'forgive and forget,' we Jews are champions.

But the cookie is actually quite tasty.  :)