“Observe the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.” ~ Deuteronomy 5:12
Food carried so many wonderful childhood memories for Anne;
memories that satisfy the taste buds, the heart and the soul. She recalled recall dozens of happy
reflections, but none more special than learning how to make challah with Bubbe.
Challah is a tender, subtly-sweet egg bread typically eaten
on ceremonial Jewish occasions. It’s
delicious, but according to Grandma, there are some deep spiritual lessons to
be learned from the challah baking experience itself.
“Baking challah,” she said, “is my meditation. So, it’s important to have an intention when
baking challah since it takes far more time than baking brownies from an instant
mix.”
For young Anne, it seemed that waiting was the worst part. But Bubbe reminded her that the toughest part was creating exactly the ‘right’ condition for the dough to rise. “Dough like love, will rise and shine if they were reverent and waited in wonder.”
Anne waited (without peeking) while the yeast and honey activated
each other, rising the mixture in a bowl covered bowl left in the
sunshine. When it had risen into a puffy
miracle, Bubbe dumped it on the counter and slapped it flat again; explaining
that life does that to us as well. “Our
job,” she said, “is to knead the bread until it becomes flexible and
shiny.”
After one more rise, she’d separate the dough into 3 long
pieces (representing truth, peace, and justice) and line them up next to each
other.
With fingers gnarled like old tree roots, they moved
delicately braiding one hunk of dough over another, like arms intertwined. She’d whisper:
“This is Reuben’s gift of leadership; may he
use it to help Aaron with his struggling business. Kayla has a gift for making things
beautiful, may she use it to help Rayna find a husband. This is my gift of patience, may we all use it
as role models for our children.”
On she went, weaving the family’s resources with the challenges
of others, pausing between each so Anne’s tiny fingertips could touch each
intersecting place. Once plaited, she let
her jewel rise one final time.
At dinner that night, Bubbe lit
each candle before cutting the golden Challah and gave each person a
slice. Grandma winked at Anne knowing
that all were nourished with their prayers and blessings.
When the child helped Bubbe clear the table, she asked if
someday she’d be a good mother too?
“Yes, my darling,” she answered. “When you expand the love in your heart -
love in the world also rises. By loving
others, you can braid the resources and challenges together in what seems like
impossible situations. Your life will
come alive again and again.”
She kissed Anne’s fingertips again as they each took one
final bite of the Sabbath bread.
“Blessed are You Lord, who has sanctified us
with Your commandments and taught us to separate the challah from the
dough. Just as I’m fulfilling this
mitzvah with all my heart, so may Your compassion keep me from sorrow and pain.
Amen.”
