Shavuot: First Fruits in Early Summer

Last night I dreamed that I wandered in the mountains in the fog. I was looking for something. Something important. And then I heard a shofar blowing and oriented myself to the sound. Suddenly, I was sitting at a stone chamber in a round tower with a chasidic rebbe, Hillel, and Akiba. Spread before us was a Torah scroll completely unrolled, encircling the chamber. The scroll was open to my Bat Mitzvah Torah portion, which began:

...וַיֹּאמֶר יְהוָֹה אֶל־מֹשֶׁה פְּסָל־לְךָ שְׁנֵֽי־לֻחֹת אֲבָנִים כָּרִֽאשֹׁנִ

"And Adonai spoke to Moshe, saying: Carve for yourself two tablets of stone like the first ones..." (Exodus 34:1).

When I woke up, I realized that tonight is the beginning of the festival of Shavuot, the Feast of Weeks, known to the Koine Greek speaking Jews of old as Pentecost (the 50 days). It occurs 50 days after the Passover Seder, thus the the Greek name. Dreams are interesting! My Torah portion contains Exodus chapter 34, which also has the commandments for celebrating the pilgrimage festivals:

"You shall celebrate the Feast of Weeks of the first fruits of the wheat harvest; and the festival of the Ingathering at the turn of the year. Three times a year all your males shall appear before Adonai who is sovereign...the choice first fruits of your soil you shall bring to the house of Adonai your G-d. You shall not seethe a kid in its mother's milk." (Exodus 34: 22-23, 26).

Shavuot is the second of the shaloshim regalim--three Pilgrimage Festivals--described in Torah. The three are Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot (Passover, Weeks, and Booths). Each of these festivals has agricultural roots overlaid with religious meaning. In the land of Israel, in the day of the Temple in Jerusalem, Jewish farmers were commanded to make pilgrimage to the Temple three times during the year, bringing specific sacrifices, hence the name "pilgrimage festivals."

Shavuot occurs at the first quarter (waxing moon) of the Hebrew month of Sivan, the first month of summer. It celebrates the ancient harvest of the first fruits of summer and is called Chag HaBikkurim, the holiday of Fruits. The timing of the harvest festival is interesting. Both Pesach and Sukkot occur at the full moon, the first full moon of spring and the first full moon of fall, respectively. But Shavuot occurs about a week before the full moon, during the waxing moon, which is the image of growth and ripening, and this it what is happening in the solar cycle as well: summer is waxing as we move from the cross-quarter day to the fullness of Midsummer later in June.

Shavuot is also called Zeman Matan Toratenu--the season of the giving of our Torah--because during Shavuot we remember when we stood at Sinai and accepted the revelation of Torah. The metaphor of first fruits works here, too, because the revelation of Torah at Sinai is the first fruit of our redemption from slavery by G-d's "strong hand and mighty arm" celebrated at Pesach.

The Giving of Torah: Based on Midrash

by N.

Once, when G-d wanted to give the Torah to humanity, G-d went first to the Egyptians and said: "Do you want my Torah?" And the Egyptians said, "Well, what's in it?" And G-d said, "It says 'You shall have no other gods before me.' " And the Egyptians said; "Well, we have a lot of other gods, so we don't want your Torah." Then G-d went to the Caananites and said, "Do you want my Torah?" And the Caananites, too, asked, "Well, what's in it?" And G-d said, "Well, it does say that

you shall make no graven images." And the Caananites, who liked their images of Ashera, said, "No, thanks." So G-d went to all of the nations of the earth, trying

to give them Torah, but all of the nations had reasons for not accepting it. Finally, G-d went to Israel, wandering alone in the desert, and said: "Do you want my Torah?" And Israel said, "We will do it and we will listen to it." And because Israel agreed to do it before even asking what was in it, G-d gave us Torah on Mount Sinai, with smoke and fire and the wild calling of the Shofar.

The End

Back to you, Mom!

Shavuot lasts for two days, this year the celebration goes from this evening (May 22) at sunset through Thursday evening at sunset. It is said to be the least observed of all the major Jewish festivals in North America, probably because no ritual was invented to replace the bringing of the first fruits. However, there are some rituals and customs that are being revived for the celebration of Shavuot.

Tikkun L'eil Shavuot--Restoration of Shavuot Eve: Among the mystics, it became the custom to study Torah all night on the first night of Shavuot, in order to prepare ourselves anew for receiving Torah. Because we receive Torah every week at Shabbat services, Shavuot is about the giving of Torah anew. We will light the festival candles tonight and sing the festival kiddush, but we will probably not stay up all night. Rather, we will study Torah with the festival meal. However, there will two organized study sessions at synagogues in Albuquerque for those who want to stay up and study past midnight.

Eretz zahav chalav u'd'vash--A land flowing with milk and honey: During Shavuot, it has become the custom to have sweets and dairy meals, such as cheesecake and blintzes. One reason is that we were promised that we would be given "a land flowing with milk and honey." Torah is something we were given freely and accepted freely. Milk and honey are foods given to us by others--mammals and bees. We do no work to earn them. So they symbolize the nourishment and sweetness of taking on the yoke of Torah. Another explanation is that the Jewish people were given the laws of kashrut (keeping kosher) as part of the Torah on Shavuot. Specifically, in Chapter 34 of Exodus, we are told: "You shall not seethe a kid in its mother's milk." (Exodus 34: 26b). So when they got the law, they ate only dairy until they had a chance to make their utensils and dishes kosher.

Today, N. and I will be making blintzes for dinner.

Bikkurim--A Jewish version of "hanging of the greens": Also, we bring greenery and flowers into the home and synagogue. Legend has it that when they came to Mount Sinai to receive Torah, Israel found the mountain lush with greenery and flowers. This harks back to the original import of Shavuot as Chag HaBikkurim--the festival of first fruits.

We will decorate our table with greens and purple chives from our garden. We will also serve a green salad with strawberries as part of our meal tonight.

Aseret Diburim--The Ten Words: On Shavuot, the ten commandments are read at the morning services on the first day. This gives us the chance to stand again at Sinai and celebrate the marriage of heaven and earth in the giving of the Torah. There is a Midrash that Israel did not so easily accept the Torah as told in the story above. Instead, G-d had to hold Mount Sinai over our heads and say: "Accept my Torah or I will drop the mountain on you, you stiffnecked people!" So we accepted, but we turned the mountain over our heads into a Chuppah--a wedding canopy--and envisioned G-d as our holy Chatan--bridegroom--and the Torah as our Ketubah--marriage covenant. Thus the Torah becomes a bridge between heaven and earth.

Chag Sameach! Have A Joyous Holiday!

Lightning Leads to Productive Weekend

I suppose I might have got everything done anyway. But you never know.

On Friday evening, as we sat down for a late Shabbat dinner, a severe thunderstorm formed over Sedillo. The lightning was fierce, and seemed to come from all around us. One very close strike--we saw the lightning and heard the very loud crash of thunder almost simultaneously--tripped the circuit breakers and caused a power surge. We unplugged all of our surge protectors, and did not use the computers and television again until we replaced the surge protectors Sunday evening. And did we have a wonderfully productive weekend. It helped that N. was on a campout with the Boy Scouts and MLC was away in Dalles.

On Saturday morning, we took a long walk, enjoying the sunny morning with the dogs. Fog rolled in over the hills, due to the 0.54 inches of rain we received compliments of the previous evening thunderstorm.

We took our time, knowing that we'd have clear weather until late in the afternoon--fog usually indicates a clear day.

We are really enjoying the green!

I know it looks light green to the eyes of those who live in wet areas, but to us, this is really, really green.

Our green roof still stands out across the meadow, but last year at this time, our meadow was totally brown.

Starting Friday afternoon, I got out into the side garden. It was critical.

The amazingly regular spring rains had caused weeds to spring up and grow a foot overnight!

Here are the abundant weeds--some clover, some other stuff--as they looked Friday afternoon. On the left, the Aspen trees are totally out of control.

When we moved in a year ago, I spent six weeks just getting us settled. That, combined with the necessity of taking care of the old house in town until it sold in September, and the early record-breaking monsoon precipitation we got last summer meant that I did almost nothing with this yard!

Finally, I had good weeding weather this weekend and I hit the side garden. I weeded on Friday afternoon. On Saturday afternoon, I pruned the the Aspens and weeded the raised beds behind them. It is amazing, the previous owner had a herb garden in one of them,last planted in 2005, and there is volunteer parsley and purple onion flowers growing there. She had also put a rosemary bush in one corner. I left it for now, but I am thinking of transplanting it to the slope after I finish that project.

Here is the side garden as it appears now!

What a difference, huh? The Aspens look like trees rather than uncontrolled jungle growth.

I got rid of the Aspen suckers growing through the gravel and even in the raised beds.

That is a temporary solution--Aspens are weedy trees. We'll probably have to take them out completely.

Although I removed the large clover and other weeds, I left the clumps of ornamental grass, may they increase and prosper! There are also some wildflowers that I left. They are beautiful this year!

Yesterday, I had been called to do a tahara (ritual care of the dead) in the morning, and then we went to the funeral in the afternoon. In between, I came home and planted the raised beds. I put in dill, more parsley, Italian Sage, and Feverfew in the two beds. Planting is a life-affirming action that brought me balance after the tahara.

Today, I am taking a non-gardening day to complete some indoor chores, like laundry! N. is taking a rest-day after his two-night camp-out. He finished up his "toting chip" (use of knife and axe) requirements. He is ready to start on Kemana II tomorrow.

Our next outdoor project is to deal with the steep slope to the left of the side garden. It began eroding badly last summer. So we are going to put steps diagonally across the slope and terrace it for planting. I want to put a mixed meadow of blue gramma grass and wildflowers on the terraces. I need to find my New Mexico gardening books as well as the hardscaping book to figure out exactly how to do that!

Summer goes by more quickly every year and I have so much I want to accomplish!

How Green Was My Desert

Oh, all right. Actually, the title should be "How Green Were My Desert Mountains."
Call it poetic liscense.

The point is...well, look at the meadow in the picture to the right.

That's the point. Look at how green that meadow is! Look at the fog hiding the Sandias!
That's the point.




May in New Mexico is usually dry and sunny.

The Monsoons bring rain in July and August. For a few hours most evenings. Between about 4 PM and 7 PM. New Mexico gets a unimodal rain-fall pattern. Summer monsoons. Sparse precipitation the rest of the year.

But this May the weather is weird! Last night we got another 0.21 of an inch. And today it was foggy and cloudy and sprinkly. All day.

See the picture above? You should be looking at South Mountain. South Mountain is missing. Has been all day. I am thinking about putting an APB out for South Mountain. Heh, Heh.

I know we shouldn't complain. And really, I am not. But as soon as I get the weeds pulled, new ones spring up and grow a foot. Overnight. It's just really weird weather.


But it does have compensations.

This evening as we sat down to a late supper, N., speaking very quietly, said, "Look!" The quiet excitement in his voice made me go for the camera.

Three deer were feeding in the yard. My first two shots through the window were no good.

So I ever so slowly and quietly opened the French doors. I padded out on the patio in my stocking feet, and moving deliberately, took this shot from among the aspen leaves.

There was a buck, a doe and a yearling. I think they are the same group I saw around last fall. Once they crossed the road just ahead of me as I was taking my morning walk. At that time the white spots on the young one were just fading. Now that one looks to be the almost the size of the doe.

I got reasonably close to them. At one point, the doe looked up right at me and blinked when I took a picture. I think she heard the shutter click, as did the yearling. Both of them moved behind the scrub oak and continued feeding. The buck kept an eye on me, but continued munching--I could hear him feeding--for a little while longer.

I went back to my dinner. We watched the deer move northward past the scrub oak and then westward across the meadow. Finally, the disappeared into the forest.

Bruce said. "How very blessed we are to live here. We stop to see great sights on an almost daily basis."

That's right. It is a magical year here in our green desert mountains.

The Joy of Having a Big Sister

When N. was little he called her "Sissie." Eight years older than he, she has been equal parts sister and mother.

When he was small, MLC noticed before I did that there was something peculiar about N.'s communication skills. She was quite vocal about it and also insisted that he look at her when he talked. He accompanied her on many a doll picnic, and she insisted that he call her friends by name. He did. "Woosty" (Mystie) and "Wissa" (Melissa) became secondary sisters, who delighted in hauling around a real, live kid. Together with MLC, they did more for his communication skills than all of his therapists combined. They expected him to act like a normal kid--and he complied. The power of good women cannot be easily dismissed!

MLC has always been fiercely protective of her little brother. When the fire alarm went off at a screening of the first Harry Potter, she elbowed me and Bruce out of the way in order to get N. out first. When N. was in third grade, he complained about his teacher (that was the year of the ditto queen). MLC went to "pick him up" the very next day, leaving the university a little early to scope out the situation. She not only reported to me on what she saw (N. being punished for writing slowly by being deprived of group interaction--against the IEP), she told the teacher in no uncertain terms that she had seen the situation and she intended to take action.


Now she is taking N. in hand again. Kids with AS often have difficulty understanding the need for the finer points of hygeine. I, as N.'s mother, do a lot of reminding...and reminding...and reminding... about appropriate clothing, deoderant, combing hair, tooth brushing, etc. (Yes--N. has entered adolescence--slowly but surely--"boy funk" has entered our house).
But when MLC speaks, it is final. Change that shirt, she'll say. And he does.


Now she has embarked on teaching him the finer points of social skills. Like opening doors for ladies of all ages.

At the Bat Mitzvah party, she undertook to teach him the fine points of impressing the fairer sex.

She showed him how to successfully ask a young lady to dance.
And she started teaching how to dance with a partner.

There's still a height difference, but N. was game.

There was only one problem. After dancing with the prettiest and most sophisticated young lady on the dance floor, why screw up your courage to ask anybody else?

I think he enjoyed the attention he was getting. All the other girls were imitating MLC. And the boys were watching---MLC.

Sometimes its a real joy to have a big sister. Even if she does remind you to change your boxers on a regular basis.

Ahhh! Mother's Day

It was a very busy weekend. Saturday we had a Bat Mitzvah to attend, and breaking our usual pattern, we also went to the evening party. It was a family friend and we couldn't say no.


Yesterday I woke up tired and somewhat grumpy.
My mood improved when MLC took me to get my toes done--Ahhh!

And while we were away in town, Bruce put together my Mother's Day present. My mood improved considerably, when I saw him putting THIS out on the patio!






Of course, I had to try it out.

It was a beautiful evening to just sit on the patio and rock while watching the clouds come over the mountains.

I think I even closed my eyes for a few minutes.

The chair is very comfortable. (Today Bruce is putting primer on it and on the one that he bought himself for me to give him for father's day. Clever man. Tomorrow he will paint them both hunter green).

And I could sit and enjoy the evening because...


Bruce, N. and MLC did the cooking. (N. is behind the camera). Hmmm. At least, I think MLC was helping...

On Saturday evening--late--Bruce and N. left the Bat Mitzvah Party and drove past our home into Edgewood. They said the'd be late because they were taking A. home. Actually, A.'s mom met them at Smith's Grocery and Bruce and N. bought some steaks. They were planning the first outdoor BBQ of the year for Mother's Day.

Looking at the picture above, I do not think I actually NEED steak and potatoes--but, as they say, never, absolutely never, look a gift horse in the mouth!





MLC did do something, though, because this beautiful table was set up on the patio.

I guess I really rate--she put on a tablecloth, the good silverware and crystal.

When MLC's boyfriend arrived, we all sat down to a lovely Mother's Day dinner al fresco.

It was a beautiful evening for it, too! Warm, with clouds moving across the Sandias, and no wind! So we ate steak and potatoes and a choice of Pinot Gregio or Merlot. Apple pie for dessert. I am so glad that it is against my religion to diet...

If I started out the day grumpy, I ended it feeling pretty mellow.

Making It Theirs

Yesterday, I had a meeting with our rabbi about N.'s religious education.

Since February, we have been unschooling Jewish education for N. The 7th grade class at the synagogue was long on sitting, notes, and tests, and short on hands-on activities and discussions. I discussed all of the reasons for our decision here. I had sent that blog directly to the rabbi, who, as far as I can tell, did not read it. On the last Sunday in April, I attended a parents meeting for the Religious Education Committee to hear what their plans are for the next year. The religious education program has been in some state of disarray for a long time. Two years ago, the educator that had been in place for a number of years resigned because her husband had gotten a new job in Colorado. She was a good educator, but over the years so much had been put on her plate that the core programs, the religious school, Hebrew school and the teen Machon program, were left to run themselves. Last year, we had a temporary educator on a one-year contract who made a number of recommendations to strengthen the core programs. She was a sharp lady and had a lot to say. This year, the congregation hired a new educator who, for various reasons that I do not know, was terminated within six months. As I understand it, the termination decision was based on performance rather than any egregious act. So, last week I attended that meeting for parents. And found out that after two-and-a-half-years of frustration, a promised special needs procedure was still not going to be put in place. GRRRR!

I know all of the reasons. We had set-backs due to all of the administrative changes. We are hiring a consultant to hold focus groups and make us look at ourselves--the good and bad--so that we can make constructive changes. They all sound reasonable--when it is not your kid who is losing out. So I made an appointment to talk to the rabbi about N.'s Jewish education. It was my plan to discuss an alternative program for N., mediated by me, composed of all of the components we have in place alreadly along with, hopefully, possibly,...some kind of service work at the synagogue. Please?

So I called the rabbi's secretary and made an appointment. And I began to think about what made my religious education a good one. (I can sum that up in three words: Camp and Sharon Kahn). And what we did that filled the sanctuary on holidays like Purim, when I was a young Hebrew teacher in the 1980's. I talked to MLC about the things that made it all fun and exciting when she was in the religious school. I talked to our "daughter of the heart," L, about what she remembered. And all of these ideas were jumbled in my head as I drove to my appointment with the rabbi yesterday.

Now, I actually, actively dread these kinds of appointments. I always resolve that I am going to appear professional and competent. I AM a teacher. I HAVE a master's in special education. But when it's about my baby, my own little boy, I always end up crying. It did not help that the rabbi was accusatory. The staccato tone of "So you did this...you agreed to this...and then you just pulled him out," felt a bit like gun fire. At this point I realized that he had not read my e-mail.

No, that's not quite it, rabbi. I met with D. (the inflexible teacher) and S. (the educator) in September. D. dictated the terms and did not bother to read the information I gave him about Asperger Syndrome and Central Auditory Processing Disorder. I did attend class with N. for 6 weeks. I saw that my presence was isolating N. from his peers (I was not just in the room, I was expected to sit with N. and make sure he took notes, like a helicopter parent, rather than be a general presence in the class) and I saw that N. was too busy trying to write and spell correctly to actually understand the content of the lecture. So I told N. to focus on listening to what was being presented (pretty difficult anyway for a kid with CAPD) and try to tell me one thing he had learned. I stopped going to class with him so that he would interact with his peers. I waited outside in case there were problems. In late November or early December, D. accosted me and yelled at me that N. was not learning because I was not coming to class and N. was not taking notes. I countered that N. was not learning because the pedagogy was completely unsuited to any 7th grader, let alone one with learning disabilities. I asked D. if he would please use graphic organizers because N. learns best visually. The response was "No." I asked if he could e-mail the content of the lecture power point to me on Tuesday, so that I could make the graphic organizers. No, again. I met with the educator, who promised that she would talk to D. and agreed that it was not appropriate for me to be in the classroom. Then we got caught up with the Bar Mitzvah--where N. surprised them all!-- and then the educator resigned. Having no recourse, and facing increasingly clear evidence that D. did not want my son in his class, and that N. was increasingly frustrated with the situation, I made other plans. The plans discussed here.

Sigh! I am getting all ferklempt just recounting this here! :( It's really embarrassing.
Like I said, when it's my kid...

So I got pretty passionate about what I think is needed. I was waving my arms a lot. Getting loud. Tears in the eyes. The whole ferklempt thing. And then it just came out of my mouth.
"If we want the kids to want to come, we have to make it theirs! They have to own it. They should be conducting services during religious school. They should be playing the guitar and leading the singing! They should be doing Judaism!"

Doing Judaism. Being Torah.

What a concept. Duh!

As I think about it, you know what the problem is with my generation? We do everything for our kids. No wonder the kids are disengaged. No wonder they roll their eyes when we talk at them about the wonders of Judaism, or of math, or of science, or of....anything. How would they know? They hear about it..from us. They watch a performance of it...by us. But we do not engage them in it. We do not require them to be responsible for it. They are passive. They know, as kids do, that we are egoizing to the max. It's all about us.

I feel a diatribe coming on:

Why was my Jewish education--gotten on the sly as my parents were not synagogue members--so exciting? Because we were drafted to lead services, play the music, sing the songs. We ran our own youth group meetings--sometimes badly. The advisor was just that--an advisor. A college student. We learned to be Jews by being Jews.

Why is N. so excited about Boy Scouts? Because his patrol works at being scouts. They follow a series of requirements--that is true. But those requirements require them to own scouting! Why does N. enjoy his Post-Bar Mitzvah class at Chabad? Because the rabbi who leads their discussions poses questions. He does not dictate answers. As the group struggles for answers, the concepts become theirs.

And why is homeschooling and unschooling so successful? Because we adults are stepping back. Relinquishing our places as "Sage on the Stage" to become "a guide on the side."

We are making it theirs.

End diatribe.

Sigh. Sometimes I feel like I am from another planet. Too loud. Too big. Take up too much space. I don't think the rabbi "got it."

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle...

Mother's Day in the United States will be celebrated this Sunday, May 13.

My mother used to say: "The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world."

In my younger days, I thought that the statement was a bit overblown to say the least. Influenced by the second wave of the feminist movement, I wondered if the saying was simply an excuse to not venture out into the world to do great things. To stay on the pedestal and bow to patriarchy.

When I was growing up, I had two best girlfriends. The three of us had much in common, not the least of which was that we were all certified members of "geekdom." In those days, being geeks was not cool, but it did have its compensations. One of these was permission to read science fiction and watch Star Trek and dream of doing great things in the future. Together, we three girls dreamed of becoming scientists, engineers, physicians, philosophers. In short, we were to become builders of worlds. Our motto was: "To summon the future!"

As we left school and started our lives, we did realize some of those dreams. We did become scientists and engineers, philosophers and anthropologists. But we also became speakers of many languages, teachers, care-givers, and mothers. And, although it took a while, we began to realize that it was in our roles as mothers that we took on the title of "builders of worlds."

Our most enduring role models are the mothers of Israel: Sarah, Rebekah, Leah, and Rachel. Our mother Sarah, who laughed at the Eternal, and not only lived to tell the tale, but also named her son for that laughter. Rebekah, who wondered about the purpose of her existence and yet determined the leadership of Israel for all time. Leah, who, as the matriarch of the tribe, managed the family and brought her husband prosperity. And Rachel, who nurtured the gifts and dreams of her son Joseph, who saved an entire land from famine.

And more: Yocheved, mother of Moses, whose look was toward life in a dark time. Miriam, the prophet, whose well of sweet water gave life in the wilderness. Hannah, Deborah the Judge, Hulda the prophet, Esther the Queen. And all of the women and mothers whose names we do not know; a web of women that kept the Jewish people alive. The influence of the mothers of Israel lives down the centuries. Their legacy is affirmed every Shabbat when Jewish women light candles and bless and pray for their children.

When we were young, my intrepid girl friends and I, we dreamed of glory. We imagined a legacy of fame and fortune. Well, we are all fortunate. But although we have achieved much, none of us have won Nobel prizes or ruled countries. We are grateful that some women have done so. But I think that each of the three of us has, at one time or another, realized that our power to summon the future comes from our efforts to bring up our children to be menschen. To be on the path of the true human being. If we teach our children to be good, true, compassionate, just and loving, and if they, in their turn treat others this way, then imagine how far we can "pay it forward." Our names may not be known, but our influence on the future can be very great. It can endure down the generations.

How great is our power. There is a Jewish saying: "To save one life is to save a whole world." Here is our corollary: "To nurture one life is to nurture whole worlds." Our influence can determine if those worlds are healthy and loving, or not. If they are places of joy and compassion, or not. If the truth is spoken in those worlds and if justice is done.

The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.

Like Esther, we can change the world. So this Mother's Day, I will be standing in order to begin to make a difference. Sometimes small acts, when done together, can lead to great changes. When Julia Ward Howe, author of the Battle Hymn of the Republic, wrote the Mother's Day Proclaimation in 1870, she meant it to be a call to action. She wrote:

"Arise, then, women of this day! Arise all women who have hearts, whether our baptism be that of water or of tears!Say firmly: 'We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We women of one country will be too tender of those of another country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.' "

I want to answer her call all these years later, and stand for a better world for our children. So I will joining the Standing Women all across the world at 1 PM (local time) on Mother's Day to renew my commitment to Tikkun Olam, the repair of the world. I invite you to join me on that day. Go to the link above and let them know where you will stand. All across the world, we will make a wave of women, hour after hour, standing to commit themselves to the following pledge:

Remember: The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.

What kind of world do we want that to be?

Happy Mother's Day!