Cool Cactus #8
My grandfather was a deeply religious man. He went to shul every Friday night and every Saturday morning. He lived close the temple so he could walk to services, driving being forbidden on the Sabbath.
Yit-gadal v'yit-kadash sh'may raba b'alma dee-v'ra che-ru-tay, ve'yam-lich mal-chutay b'chai-yay-chon uv'yo-may-chon uv-cha-yay d'chol beit Yisrael, ba-agala u'vitze-man ka-riv, ve'imru amen.
Personally, I never understood the Orthodox lifestyle. Having to wear a beard of a certain length, being separated from your wife at religious services (I always thought religion was supposed to bring family together) and all the black. Now, don't get me wrong - I went through my depressed teenage angst period like most of my peers, but I quickly grew out of it. Black is all well and good, but sometimes you like a little color.
Y'hay sh'may raba me'varach le-alam uleh-almay alma-ya.
I never took my religion very seriously. It was something I did to please my grandparents. My father's idea of rebellion was to be an atheist, so I wasn't really brought up in a religious house. Only when I was visiting my grandparents did I go to temple with any regularity.
Yit-barach v'yish-tabach, v'yit-pa-ar v'yit-romam v'yit-nasay, v'yit-hadar v'yit-aleh v'yit-halal sh'may d'koo-d'shah, b'rich hoo. layla ool-ayla meen kol beer-chata v'she-rata, toosh-b'chata v'nay-ch'mata, da-a meran b'alma, ve'imru amen.
I got my bar mitzvah, mainly for the gifts. That's the one upside of the Orthodox. They really take those rites of passage seriously and shell out the big bucks. So of course, I'm not an idiot. I rode my bar mitvah money all the way to college. It was great.
Y'hay sh'lama raba meen sh'maya v'cha-yim aleynu v'al kol Yisrael, ve'imru amen.
Basically, I'm telling you all this so you'll realize my surprise when I was presented with my grandfather's copy of the Torah after he died. He wouldn't leave it to my father, given his views, but I guess he had some hope for me. Deep down, I think he knew I was only doing it for him. But that at least was more effort than dad. So maybe he held out some sliver of hope that I'd mend my ways. I guess it worked a bit. When I got to campus the first week of college, I found the Hillel and joined. I still take that Torah with me to Friday night services (Saturday services are a bit too early for a college kid). But every time I open those pages and read the same words my grandfather did for all those years - the same words our people have been reading for five thousand years - I remember my grandfather and a feel a deep connection I wish I had found during his life.
O'seh shalom beem-romav, hoo ya'ah-seh shalom aleynu v'al kol Yisrael, ve'imru amen.
I miss you gramps.
Yit-gadal v'yit-kadash sh'may raba b'alma dee-v'ra che-ru-tay, ve'yam-lich mal-chutay b'chai-yay-chon uv'yo-may-chon uv-cha-yay d'chol beit Yisrael, ba-agala u'vitze-man ka-riv, ve'imru amen.
Personally, I never understood the Orthodox lifestyle. Having to wear a beard of a certain length, being separated from your wife at religious services (I always thought religion was supposed to bring family together) and all the black. Now, don't get me wrong - I went through my depressed teenage angst period like most of my peers, but I quickly grew out of it. Black is all well and good, but sometimes you like a little color.
Y'hay sh'may raba me'varach le-alam uleh-almay alma-ya.
I never took my religion very seriously. It was something I did to please my grandparents. My father's idea of rebellion was to be an atheist, so I wasn't really brought up in a religious house. Only when I was visiting my grandparents did I go to temple with any regularity.
Yit-barach v'yish-tabach, v'yit-pa-ar v'yit-romam v'yit-nasay, v'yit-hadar v'yit-aleh v'yit-halal sh'may d'koo-d'shah, b'rich hoo. layla ool-ayla meen kol beer-chata v'she-rata, toosh-b'chata v'nay-ch'mata, da-a meran b'alma, ve'imru amen.
I got my bar mitzvah, mainly for the gifts. That's the one upside of the Orthodox. They really take those rites of passage seriously and shell out the big bucks. So of course, I'm not an idiot. I rode my bar mitvah money all the way to college. It was great.
Y'hay sh'lama raba meen sh'maya v'cha-yim aleynu v'al kol Yisrael, ve'imru amen.
Basically, I'm telling you all this so you'll realize my surprise when I was presented with my grandfather's copy of the Torah after he died. He wouldn't leave it to my father, given his views, but I guess he had some hope for me. Deep down, I think he knew I was only doing it for him. But that at least was more effort than dad. So maybe he held out some sliver of hope that I'd mend my ways. I guess it worked a bit. When I got to campus the first week of college, I found the Hillel and joined. I still take that Torah with me to Friday night services (Saturday services are a bit too early for a college kid). But every time I open those pages and read the same words my grandfather did for all those years - the same words our people have been reading for five thousand years - I remember my grandfather and a feel a deep connection I wish I had found during his life.
O'seh shalom beem-romav, hoo ya'ah-seh shalom aleynu v'al kol Yisrael, ve'imru amen.
I miss you gramps.
posted by Cool Cactus at 10:57 AM
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