When we were kids in poor, communist Romania, on Saint Nicholas Eve we used to put our boots on the windowsill and wait for presents. They were usually sweets and oranges, a book or some crayons...but the joy was unmeasurable. It meant so much for us...
Now, here, in Israel, I try to put together a holiday, to built a tradition for my daughter. We don't have a windowsill as windows are different in our apartment and only rubber boots for the rainy season but my daughter's smile was worth more than I invested. Her joy was my joy as a mother and the child in my soul was happy with and for her.
As I said before, it is not easy to be different in Israel, but this is what I know, what I grew up with, this is what my souls resonates to...I do my best to offer my daughter my heritage and also to let her learn the ways of this country, and let her be to one to choose for herself. I just hope I'll have the strenght to stand for her whatever she chooses...
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