I just wanted to say a few words about the event that happened yesterday at the Brooklyn’s Manhattan Beach Jewish Center. It seemed that everyone was there. About a thousand women were making challah together. It was not the bread that mattered. It was the energy. I am at a loss for words to describe my feelings looking at a ballroom full of women, mostly in their regular Flatbush attire – wigs, black clothes, some heels – young and old dancing, singing, screaming, jumping for joy! Since I am not dancing/singing now due to avelut, I was able to look around. I saw the eyes of a security guard that were popping out of his head. He had never seen anything like it. But, frankly, never did I either. Slovie Jungreis, the daughter of Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis spoke about her family legacy, and when we all made a bracha over challah the silence of prayer moments was overwhelming. The whole experience had brought tears to my eyes.
So, this morning, I’ve brought two tiny challah rolls to give to a colleague of mine who never baked challah, never lit Shabbat candles. And I hope that my humble bread will bring her closer to her people whichever way she chooses.