Our Hearts Are Faint
Our grief is raw and real and is scattered across disorienting winds of pain.
Our grief is raw and real and is scattered across disorienting winds of pain.
The scent of fresh challah was timeless and unmistakable and was leading Jonah’s nose to the small bakery suitably wedged between a bookstore and a flower shop.
Never was their a more odd pairing of Torah portions than Behar-Bechukotai.