Monday, March 21, 2011

Don't Rain on My Purim Spiel. . .

Yes, that's right. It may never rain in California, but I guess Purim is different. It poured! Truth be told, I felt like it was pouring down brochas on us.

And while I'm telling the truth, the pouring rain was extremely annoying. Driving my kids around in my old car delivering shloach manos with a constantly fogged up windshield was pretty scary. Kinda pined away from the bright sunshine, automobiles suddenly stopping without warning and kids running out into traffic that are earmarks of Purim past.

The seuda was amazing - my mother-in-law's modern orthodox shul is slowly dying out, and now shares space with a rapidly expanding group of young, modern Chabadniks. They are very respectful of the older crowd, and did everything they could to include my mother-in-laws co-congregants in their festivities, and that's how we ended up there. What a beautiful, meaningful evening filled with costumed children gathered in a drum circle, the adults drinking and eating to our heart's content.

Still, dreaming of Moshiach. No doubt when he gets here, life's gonna be a lot like this.

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