That title above (a little longer than a usual blog title), is one of my favorite Jewish ideas.
We are always looking at "old" things and bringing them into a new day.
Then we are tasked with bringing holiness into each new day, new idea, new plan.
About two years ago, I learned to do a 6-strand braided challah.
It makes perfect sense to me to braid 6 strands, one for each member of my family.
I braid in the love each week.
|This is NOT a challah I made. Mine are never this pretty. So I borrowed this picture from Instructables rather than show off my somewhat embarrassingly funny looking challot. My challot taste wonderful. Someday I will master the art of beautiful appearance as well.|
On Thursday night, I baked challah. I usually do it on Friday, but I knew that I was headed up to the hospital to spend Shabbat with Sam
, and I wanted to take a challah with me. My regular recipe, from my friend Ruth Ross, makes two challot, but often I only bake one and freeze the second batch or make a set of cinnamon rolls for Shabbat morning. As I divided the dough in half and started rolling the strands, I realized how precious this shared challah was going to be.
Six strands, representing the members of our family...one batch split into two challot...eaten separately but spiritually together.
An old ritual - making challah.
Now made new by circumstances that I never ever imagined.
But yet...we find holiness, even in the newness.
In the darkness, we find light.
Even if it's only a piece of bread, it brings comfort.
If we don't look for the light, we're going to end up sitting in the dark.
So we eat challah and salt it with our tears....