Here’s another short, short story (167 words), this one about prayer and righteousness. To listen, click on the triangle in the bar below. The text follows.
Bracha Simcha recites her morning prayers at night. At dawn, they make no sense. At dawn, she’s already busy. At dawn, she’s already making her rounds. Some days, the baker hands her a slice of new bread, even though she can’t pay for a piece of old crust. Some days, the butcher leaves her a small parcel of cooked meat. When her coat rips, the tailor mends it. When her boots tear, the shoemaker repairs them. And when her stomach growls her open palm can hold any coin she’s given. On cold nights, the rabbi lets her sleep by the fading embers of the chedar stove. As she closes her eyes, Bracha Simcha remembers the morning blessings. “Praised are You, O G-d Our Maker, who gives strength to the weary. Praised are you, O G-d Our Maker, who provides for all my needs…” And Bracha Simcha drifts off to sleep satisfied with her sacred duty: giving others the chance to cloth the naked and feed the hungry.
© 2011 Alden Solovy and www.tobendlight.com. All rights reserved.
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