Authors: Ayelet Waldman
When I pulled into the driveway of my house, I sat for a moment in my car, thinking about the Finkelsteins. They would not need to bear this tragedy alone. I knew that moments from now Sima’s kitchen door would open and women would begin to stream through, their arms laden with casseroles of
tsimmes
and thick soups of chicken and barley. They would pile the
babkas
and the sponge cakes on the counters and prepare the first of endless cups of tea. The low murmur of their voices would fill the room and the air would be redolent with the smell of talcum powder and food and the warmth of women. Their husbands would pour into the living room like a sea of dark coats and hats. Some would rock back and forth in prayer. Others would simply stand in the corners of the room, talking in soft, deep voices. Or perhaps they would be quiet—not sure what to say to a family burdened with such incalculable pain. The Finkelsteins’ house would fill to bursting with
the members of their community. The compassion and support of the men in their long beards and dark clothes and of the women with wigs so carefully covering their shorn heads would give to Sima and Baruch the strength they needed to get through the horrible and harrowing weeks, months, and years ahead.
Suddenly, I thought of my own family. Those three people I loved most in the world. I wanted to be with them, to be surrounded by them.
They
were my community. Peter, Ruby, and Isaac were my universe. I got out of the car and walked up the stairs to my apartment. I could hear Ruby’s bubbling laugh. I started to run, desperate to see them and to be back in the center of my own little world. I burst through the back door and found them sitting around the kitchen table. Peter held Isaac in his lap and Ruby sat across from them, a pile of chocolate chip cookies in front of her and her face painted with a milk mustache.
“Mama!” she shouted, when she saw me. I leaned over and kissed her milky, chocolatey face.
“Hi, sweet girl.”
Peter reached out with his free arm and grabbed me around the waist. He squeezed me to him and I leaned on his warm, strong shoulder.
“Tell me,” he said.
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