Writing by our youngest members:
The children worked on poems about siblings as part of their preparation for the Pitzele torah study weekend. Some wrote about Joseph in the pit, after having been abandoned by his brothers. Others wrote about the quandary his brothers were in afterwards, when they had to face Jacob.
The dry smell of the sandy pit engulfed me. My thoughts were smothered.
I wasn't sure what had happened. Only that I was out finding my brothers and then, sweaty hands pushed me into this hellish place.
The smell of fresh bread wafted down, mocking me.
I took stock of my surroundings. Nothing to see but dryness and big rocks.
Just then a head poked over the pit. It was Ishmael.
"Give me your hand!"
Ethan, age 11
A few chose to write about their own sibling, which they were permitted to do if their sibling wasn't a member of our group.
My younger brother is named Tzevi.
Tzevi likes to play Curious George.
He has curly hair.
Tzevi does not like corn soup.
Rena, age 7
Following upon the bibliodrama that Peter presented on Saturday, other children imagined conversations between Ishmael and Isaac, at Abraham and Sara's grave after a long separation.
"Ishmael? What are you doing here?"
"Just because I was exiled doesn't mean he's not my father too."
Isaac (to himself): I want to apologize for Sara's behavior, but it wouldn't be right. He'd just say I could have stopped her and I'd retort that I was too young. Then we're right back where we started, on bad terms. "Sorry. Sorry for everything." It didn't seem like much but it was all I could say. "I'm sorry if my family wasn't hospitable. Do you forgive me?"
I expected all his bottled rage to pour out but instead Ishmael said: "Apology accepted. Life is too short to hate your flesh and blood. Come, let's bury OUR father."
So, we dug. After we finished, we played in the presence of my long dead mother, who had forbidden it.
Nathaniel, age 11