She stood shivering and I wanted to lend her my sweatshirt. Nights are still cold in Jerusalem, and I craved the heartwarming "kol areiveim ze l'ze" smile that politely rejects, then smiles, then accepts my small act of hesed. But I also knew that such an act was an impossibility- that inside my head, a black-on-white poster of social mores told me "this is not done." Young, married, Haredi women don't take hooded sweatshirts from strangers.That's just the beginning.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Beauty & the Beast
Check out this post at Tzarich Iyun. An excerpt: