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

aroma wafting through the house. She did make the best matzo balls I have ever eaten.
My mother and aunts --busy talking or cooking in the kitchen. My father and uncles--
dozing on the couches. While the rest of my cousins flipped baseball cards or wove
stories of their neighborhood heroics, I sat with my Papa in the living room. I remember
how he loved to watch “the fights”, boxing, on TV. As he watched, he told me stories.
Stories of the shtetl near Kiev that was his home. Stories of the boys’ school he went to
and the teachers that hit him with a stick when he misbehaved. While the rest of my
family cooked, slept, or played games, I went with my Papa to Temple on the holidays. I
remember marching with the other children there, carrying an Israeli flag and toy Torah
on Simchat Torah. I remember being given an apple as I left Rosh Hashana services. Me
and Papa. Symbols.
Tonight we recite the KI HINEY KA-CHOMER as adapted by Morris Silverman.
This is a psalm filled with images.
“As clay in the hand of the potter,
Who thickens or thins it at will...
As glass in the hand of the blower,
Who shapes or melts it at will...........
As cloth in the hand of the draper,
Who drapes or twists it at will......”