Kol Nidre Appeal 2003 One Rosh Hashanah morning, the Rabbi ...

Yom Kippur 5764
Symbols. Images.
Tonight is a night of images. It is a night of symbolism. A night to contemplate
the images of our world as it is today; images that bombard our senses daily. A night for
us to remember and hold on to the past. A night for us to imagine the future. Where will
we be? What paths will lead us there? What was it that led us to where we are today?
Take a second now to let your mind wander to your past. What symbols that
made you who you are, do you see? ...... For me, it is my “hometown”. It is Brooklyn.
The New York borough that has become the symbol of my past. The crowded streets.
The noises. The smells. Growing up with my parents and brother in a one-bedroom
apartment that never felt cramped. Growing up in a building teeming with other families
and children. Yes, growing up in a “building”– a concept my children (when they were
younger) could never quite grasp (to them, people grew up in houses; offices are in
buildings). I can remember taking the train to my Bube’s apartment in Brighton Beach.
Spending the entire afternoon at her kitchen table breaking green beans while listening to
her stories about Lotz in Poland. It was there I learned about her mother, my namesake,
Grana, who rebelled against her parents by running away to another village with the boy
she loved, rather than to marry the man her parents had arranged for her to wed.
Symbols. I took my Bube’s stories in. They stayed within the core of my body, my soul.
My Jewish name, Grana, became a symbol of who I would become.
I see my family gathered at my Nana’s home. Mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles,
cousins. A noisy crowd. My Nana’s delicious chicken soup boiling on the stove. The