This is a central gathering spot for Zorea Family memories related to Judaism, Israel, our Conversion, and any relevant events since. There is no wrong memory, so please feel free to post anything that comes to mind. There is no need for a complete story — just the image or memory that comes to you in the moment. These are fragments, and we can compile them all later.
Some topics to think about:
- Earliest memories of Temple;
- Of interacting with Jewish and Non-Jewish Friends;
- Of particular Jewish Holidays;
- Of Bar Mitzvahs;
- Of friends in Seattle;
- Of Christian Scientists;
- Of Helen Wolfe;
- Of friends in Tacoma;
- Of Friends in Yelm;
- Of hearing the news about Israel;
- Of trip to Berkeley;
- Of any Chabad House (Seattle of Berkeley);
- Of second conversion to Judaism;
- Of packing up to go to Israel;
- First impressions of Israel;
- Of school(s) in the States;
- Of the Yeshiva;
- Daily routines in Israel;
- Profiles of specific friends in Israel;
- Of celebrations and holidays;
- Of the food and drink;
- Of sickness;
- Of trips taken in Israel;
- Of Hobbies and Games while in Israel;
- Of our conversion;
- Of scary moments;
- Of joyful moments;
- Of sad moments;
- Of Baptist Camp;
- Of Baptist Friends;
- Of Baptism;
- Of New Testament reading;
- Of news of coming back to the States;
- Of the trip back to the States;
- of first impressions in the States after returning;
- Of telling our conversion story;
- Of explaining our conversion story;
- Of various Churches in US
These are some of a great many possible categories to write about. If it comes to your mind… if you can remember any descriptions… just write it down. There does not need to be any context, just the memory. If you happen to remember dates, and names, and locations – that is best, but they are not required.
There are no wrong memories! If you remember the story differently than someone else, that is fine. If the memory of someone else clarifies your own, then feel free to edit/change your initial memory. Please do not criticize the memories/experiences of others. This is data gathering only… not interpretation.
To upload your memory… just type it in the comment section below. If you would prefer to send me a more private memory directly by email, I would be happy to compile those separately and keep them confidential.
This is a sample of a memory:
I remember one day in Israel when I was wandering through the village and I came upon the Maranz House. I do not think that I had any business there, except that I had been there a few days earlier and I saw that the mom and little boy was at home, so I knocked on the door. She invited me to tea, and we sat in the kitchen. I remember very little about the details of how long I was there, or when I left, or where I went afterwards. The key moment, though, was that at some point during the conversation — we were talking about something — Mrs. Marantz pointed out the window (it was a second floor kitchen) and there were three Arab workers out in the field. They were all kneeling for their midday prayers. She pointed them out to me and said… “See… those men may be Arabs, but they believe in God, and they are praying just like we do.” I cannot remember the specific details of her point… and I may well be re-creating her words, rather than remembering them… but the image of the three Arabs in the field is very clear. And I remember that the tone of Mrs. Moranz words were sympathetic toward them… they were praying and she appreciated that… no matter what else they may be.
Second example memory:
I remember waiting at the Bus Stop, located on the highway. We had to walk the four miles from the Maon Center to the main highway in order to reach the bus stop. The bus stop was mostly just a bench, with a sparse canopy. Behind the bus stop was an old concrete shelter of some sort… perhaps an old building… or a storage spot. We never knew. I remember it was hidden in among the cactus and we often saw lizards crawling along the wall. I remember looking across the highway and seeing a larger (though seemingly older) house off in the distance — perhaps a mile off.
One day while we were waiting, and we (the boys) were goofing around, Mom said: “Boys, you need to pay attention to where we are and the places round you. You should be taking mental pictures of everything you see because soon we will no longer be here (this obviously must have been after we became Christian). I remember when she said that, she pointed across the road to the line of Palm Trees that were dotted in a queue leading up to the house across the road. She pointed to the house, and I took a mental picture of that scene, and have remembered the image and the moment ever since.
I do not know if we had a camera in Israel, but I do know that we took far fewer pictures than we should have. I would very much have liked to have had a picture that spot. When Emily and I went to Israel for our honeymoon, we took a bus into Tel Aviv from Jerusalem and I kept looking for our bus-stop the entire trip. Unfortunate for my memory, the highway was completely changed… instead of two 2-lane roads side by side, there was a massive 12 lane freeway that went past what I took to be K’far Chabad. I could not read the Hebrew signs fast enough to be sure, and nothing I saw seemed even dimly familiar.
SHOSHANA
Shoshana was a tall blonde woman who stood out from the rest of the ladies in K’Far Chabad by those attributes alone. But she was also an artist and because I am an artist I was fascinated by her. She painted and also made art quilts. Her quilts were colorful and hand stitched. She did have an old sewing machine but preferred hand stitching. Shoshana was of Russian descent and all of her art was of a religious nature. One I particularly loved was a small wall hanging with appliqués of candle sticks. I wanted very much to be Shoshans friend because living in the Main was rather lonely. My focus had always been babies and children. But in Israel my sons were taken away by the Hebrew School and Yeshiva and the activities of the bochram. I was not even asked anymore whether my boys could go do something because if the bochram were planning it , like doing mitzoim in Tel Aviv it was just assumed my two oldest would be going. My youngest child who was not quite bar mitzvah yet was still under my wing. But once a boy was bar mitzvah he belonged to the bachrim and his Father. Each day the woman who had children would gather at the Rabbi’s home for social interaction and lessons from the Rabbitzin or Rabbi’s wife. Shoshana was part of this group as she had a baby about a year old. One day at the Rabbitzins home Shoshana told us that she could see peoples auras. Many of the woman scoffed at this statement but they never the less all wsnted to know more about their auras. When I asked Shoshana about mine she was silent for sometime tilting her head and staring at me. Finally she said ” rivka, your neshama is so pure and bright. ( neshama is your soul) it is like a clear bright light surrounding you.”
TSADDAKAH
We did our shopping in the little store in the village. It had everything, kosher food and pots and pans and hardware and childrens toys among everything else. It was a place with every shelf full of various disorganized articles. Brooms and mops and various dishes and pots and pans and groceries. People kept an account there so that if you needed something but did not have the money you could just get what you need and pay at the first of the month.
I used to walk down the road to the little store just to have something to do. I never had money because we had to go into Tel Aviv to change our money at a bank into Shekels. The store didn’t take checks or credit cards. You just went in when you had the money and settled your debt. One day I was getting food for the Sabbath , I always made Cholent which set on the metal sheet on the tiny stove at low heat all day saturday and friday night. You could not change the temperature of the burner once you turned it on as that was against the shabbos laws. Besides the Cholent we always had Chicken which was delivered to our door on friday afternoon befiore sunset. We put in an order at the Butchers tent. We had to walk there which was a low building with a flap of black oil cloth over the door. The butcher or Mohel would write down our names and deliver a chicken each week. A little way down from the mohel was a little vegetable stand with large wooden bins filled with dirty vegetables. There was a rather large scale at one end. The wooden bins had dirt on the bottom of some of them so you could see that the vegetables were just brought in from the field. But back to the story of the store I finished my shopping and went up to have them ring up my purchases and to ask how much the bill was. I was wearing a blue dress and had a blue gauzy scarf covering my head. Im not sure why I remember what I wore that day. But when I asked about the bill I was told that we owed nothing. The lady, who was a rather taciturn woman with a yiddish accent, told me that we were the recipients of tzaddakah. Someone had chosrn to pay off our bill! Tzaddakah is the collection of money taken in a little box, a Tzaddakah box. It sat always on the table along side the sabbath candles and every friday and on holidays people would put extra money in the tzaddakah box which was to be used only for charitable causes. It was a mitzvah to use the tzaddakah money anonymously. If it were known what or who gave the money then the mitzvah would not count and you would not recieve the blessings earned from your act of giving. When you recieved a special act of mitzvah or tzaddakah you must then pass it on by giving what you can to some other charity. If you dont have money then you need to perform a mitzvah which could be an act of kindness but it must be without any recognition.