Tag: immigrants

Tuesday’s Thoughts: It’s a Gay Wedding

Tuesday’s Thoughts: It’s a Gay Wedding

bible, Scripture
Tuesday's Haiku and journaling The twelve are gathered Considering inclusion The gate swings open [end] Ruth 3-4 Ruth has been set up with Boaz. A few things to note, in the Bible, when it talks about feet, it often means male sex organs. And in this scripture specifically, There are feet, lying down together, and shuddering, and covering. This is sex, my friends. So Ruth and Boaz have sex. Boaz and then needs to clear everything with the rest of the community. He is one of the 12 that gather at the gate to decide what to do with the Ruth and Naomi and their property. He is a redeemer. He states there is another redeemer greater than him. This is someone who is closer in relationship with Naomi them Boaz and has first rights on Naomi’s property. And yet the gathering of the 12 at
Those Infamous New York Moms

Those Infamous New York Moms

memoir
"A woman in Brooklyn decided to prepare her will. She told her rabbi she had two final requests. First, she wanted to be cremated. Second, she wanted her ashes scattered over the local shopping mall. 'Why the shopping mall?' asked the rabbi. 'Then I'll be sure my daughters will visit me twice a week.' This article was originally published in Brooklyn. I met my Jewish friend, Laurel, when she came to a meeting at our local Insight Meditation Center on the San Francisco Peninsula where we now live. We got on right away. We both like Broadway shows, opera, reading, writing, and good meals seasoned with great conversation. We're both from New York and we're about the same age. So we come from the same time and the same place. Now New York moms get a bad rap, especially Jewish moms - b
Brooklyn, In Memory Most Green

Brooklyn, In Memory Most Green

history, justice, memoir
The courageous immigrants of the elder generations cast the shards of their hopes and dreams across the landscape of this continent as prophecy. They worked hard and long for their visions. These people included my Lebanese maternal grandparents with their first-born children. They arrived in New York in 1897 on a boat from Syria. They petitioned for citizenship in 1925. Included also was my Turkish father who arrived here alone in 1919. He was just seventeen, eager to make good and to earn dowries for his four older sisters. The distaff side eventually settled in Brooklyn. That's where they were when I was born and that's where I was raised. These were people who came to America in “the days of sail,” as the great New York writer, Irish-American Pete Hamill, would say. Today's