American author
"After the Israelites safely crossed the Red Sea, the Egyptians chased after them and were drowned. God's angels wanted to celebrate the enemy's demise.
God saw this and grew angry. He said, in essence, 'Stop celebrating. For those were my children,too.”
"What do you think of that?" the teacher asks us.
Someone else answers. But I know what I think. I think it is the first time I've heard that God might love the "enemy" as well as us."
"It is because the human spirit knows, deep down, that all lives intersect. That death doesn't just take someone, it misses someone else, and in the small distance between being taken and being missed, lives are changed."
"...We think such thngs are random. But there is a balance to it all. One withers, another grows. Birth and death are part of a whole." "It is why we are drawn to babies..." "And to funerals."
Dor came from a time before the written word, a time
when if you wished to speak with someone, you walked to see them. This time was different. The tools of
this era — phones, computers — enabled people to move at a blurring pace. Yet despite all they
accomplished, they were never at peace. They constantly checked their devices to see what time it was — the very thing Dor had tried to determine once with a stick, a stone, and a shadow.
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When I asked the Reb, Why do bad things happen to good people?, he gave none of the standard answers. He quietly said, “No one knows.” I admired that. But when I asked if that ever shook his belief in God, he was firm. “I cannot waver,” he said. Well, you could, if you didn’t believe in something all-powerful. “An atheist,” he said. Yes. “And then I could explain why my prayers were not answered.” Right. He studied me carefully. He drew in his breath. “I had a doctor once who was an atheist. Did I ever tell you about him?” No. “This doctor, he liked to jab me and my beliefs. He used to schedule my appointments deliberately on Saturdays, so I would have to call the receptionist and explain why, because of my religion, that wouldn’t work.” Nice guy, I said. “Anyhow, one day, I read in the paper that his brother had died. So I made a condolence call.” After the way he treated you? “In this job,” the Reb said, “you don’t retaliate.” I laughed. “So I go to his house, and he sees me. I can tell he is upset. I tell him I am sorry for his loss. And he says, with an angry face, ‘I envy you.’ “‘Why do you envy me?’ I said. “‘Because when you lose someone you love, you can curse God. You can yell. You can blame him. You can demand to know why. But I don’t believe in God. I’m a doctor! And I couldn’t help my brother!’ “He was near tears. ‘Who do I blame?’ he kept asking me. ‘There is no God. I can only blame myself.’” The Reb’s face tightened, as if in pain. “That,” he said, softly, “is a terrible self-indictment.” Worse than an unanswered prayer? “Oh yes. It is far more comforting to think God listened and said no, than to think that nobody’s out there.
Things that happen before you are born still affect you,' she said. 'And people who come before your time affect you as well.
We move through places every day that would never have been if not for those who came before us. Our workplaces, where we spend so much time- we often think they began with our arrival. That's not true.'
She tapped her fingertips together. 'If not for Emile, I would have no husband. IF not for our marriage, there would be no pier. If there'd been no pier, you would not have ended up working there.
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