Festival of Plenty

Thankful for bubblegum and vanilla ice cream, sweet flavors of life that stick with me and make me feel like a kid. All over again.

Thankful for nicely stacked piles of leaves that beg me to scatter them to the wind and swirl in their brilliance.

Thankful for raisins in my challah bread and kugel still steaming fresh when it comes from the oven. And the stories of Bubbe’s recipes and traditions spanning oceans that decorate the table.

Thankful for a mom who, though not Jewish, is righteous in all she is. Who does justly, loves mercy, and walks humbly with her God.

Thankful for mystifying fog, sunshine bringing laughter, and rain that makes the warm dark earth smell of April’s flowers and postponed dreams.

Thankful for the coming winter that gives me time to reflect on all life’s cycles and teaches me the balance of our days. The beauty of the snow, pain of the ice, and sharp focus of a frosty morning belong to the spring that is becoming.

Thankful for the mikveh that opens doors, teachers who open eyes, and friends who open hearts.

Thankful for books to read and songs to sing. And poems to inhale and essays to digest. And Talmud and Torah to wade through, searching for the question behind the questions. And Shel Silverstein and Isaac Babel whose words birth poetry more profound than prose and prose that sings a prayer.

Thankful for a Rabbi who is a friend. For a community priceless beyond words. And for a friend, a Methodist pastor, who gave wise counsel this week to mourners in Texas.

Thankful for Silly Putty, soap bubbles, and sailboats made of bars of Ivory. For Slinkies, Beanie Babies, and an antique Rubik’s Cube. And for the people around me who remain child-like enough to enjoy these toys forever.

Thankful for Horned Frogs who rarely win a football game, and for Astros who know how to win. And for the handful of athletes and celebrities who have figured out that life is more than just a game and who make our world a better place.

Thankful for the ever-changing beauty of this Pennsylvania valley. For hay fields freshly mown and carefully tended lawns. For rugged hillsides and sparkling streams, covered bridges and curving roads.

Thankful for our survivors who hold on to their Nie Wieder (Never Again). For those who scrap and stand firm in the face of historians who would repaint the truth. For all who fight for justice for all who are oppressed, the tzaddikim among us whose eyes are fixed on justice.

Thankful for America, where a swastika still evokes an outcry and destruction of a synagogue brings a town together to rebuild.

Thankful for Israel, country and people, person and future. A place to call home, to look forward to and plan for. A people whose “chosenness” is not the mantra for exclusion, but for responsibility, whose theology does not limit God by imposing human face on what we cannot understand. For a future of peace, a time to live, a challenge to meet. For the land of milk and honey that will be.

Thankful to be alive – despite stress, disappointment, sickness, sorrow, and all that makes me sad – thankful for bubblegum and vanilla ice cream, Rabbi and Mom, books and poetry, April and December.

And thankful to the God who makes it Be.

(c) 2000 Ruth Hanna Sachs. From Life With Ruth.