L'chaim ("to life!")

On a recent trip to Florida, I made Eric go with me to the bowels of  southwest Miami to hunt down the places of my childhood.

This is me in front of  Silver Bluff Elementary where I went to school as a newly arrived Cuban refugee. It was here that I learned to read back in the See-Spot-Run days. And it was here in this public school that I heard my first Bible stories.

Yes, that is correct. Bible stories in public school.
Go figure.

Lucy has just returned from a Passover Seder with her wonderful Jewish friends, Shoshana and Jonathan and their family. We were discussing the story of Passover and I was remembering that my Jewish teacher in public school used to read to us every day. The stories of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. All the way through Moses and Passover and the Exodus. And for that I am so grateful.

Having been raised Catholic, I didn't find out until way later that these were the same people who populated the first five books of the Old Testament.  Who knew?? =D

But today, my daughter tasted and enjoyed all things Matzo and experienced the richness of Jewish traditions.  The Koffs are a lovely homeschooling family and follow in the Jewish love for learning for the sake of learning. Her friends will be celebrating their B'nai Mitzvah later this month so we have centered some of our learning around this event.

I love that the kids are enjoying and embracing other people's traditions without having to structure a "multi-cultural" day.  Just like I learned Bible stories in school without anyone making a fuss.

We are just sharing life.  And that's as it should be.

Mary: L'hame everyone.
Adam: No Mary, it's "l'ccchhhaim," like you've got a piece of popcorn lodged in your throat.