I have two grandsons, who are brothers, and their names are Moshe (Moses) and Aaron. A cute set of names for brothers. 

And they get along, mostly! 

In fact, Moshe came home with some candy this week and actually shared some with his bro!

What brotherly love!

This week’s Torah portion is Va’era and it is the technicolor, fire and brimstone story of the first seven of the Plagues. 

The Plagues were the punishment meted out to Egypt, measure for a measure, in response to the evil they did the Jewish people throughout the time the Egyptians enslaved them. 

The story is bombastic and huge in scope. 

Yet, there are some very quiet, whispered messages we can glean from the nuances in the verses. 

We are “introduced” to the brothers, Moses and Aaron, who will be the leaders and facilitators of these grand actions. 

They will be the ones to speak to the great Pharaoh, and they will be the ones to lead the Jewish people out of Egypt. 

But strangely enough, sometimes they are called Moses and Aaron and sometimes the order is reversed, and it’s Aaron and Moses. 

Order matters in a duo. 

Usually it’s one, then the other, think Bonnie and Clyde or Batman and Robin, never are the two reversed. 

Our Sages note this unusual fluidity and they teach us this changing in the accounting of their names indicates they were considered equal in one another’s eyes. 

These great leaders had no hubris, they worked in peace and in tandem. It didn’t matter to them who might be considered greater. It did not matter whose name was first. 

This is the sign of a leader. 

It’s the purpose of achieving the goal which drove them, not their own ego. 

How much more can we accomplish as a team, working without competition but rather in harmony. 

This attitude is what allowed them to be the leaders who facilitated the Plagues and the Exodus, it was a huge story, but THEY weren’t the story. 

sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name ...

Am I dating myself by asking who recognizes these lyrics? They are the words of the theme song of the popular 80’s sitcom Cheers. 

The show took place in a pub where people could find comfort and camaraderie to combat the anonymity of living in a big city. It was a gathering place where locals could socialize, and most importantly, was a place where one had a real identity, a name. 

I was talking to a dear friend who had recently attended a funeral. She was sharing that the man who passed away was very taciturn, reclusive, and shy to a fault. It was really hard to get him to speak or engage in conversation. 

But there was one thing that would move him to a response. It meant so much to him when people would call him by his first name. If one would call this gentleman by his name when addressing him, he would stop, and make the superhuman effort to connect and even vocalize his appreciation of this kindness. For him, being mentioned by name meant that he was being seen. This meant a great deal him and was one of the few methods by which he could be pulled out of his shyness. 

This week we begin a new book of the five books of the Torah, namely Exodus. 

The Parsha of this week bears the same name, but in Hebrew the portion is called Shemot,  or Names. 

The very first verse begins

“And these are the names of the children of Israel who are coming to Egypt”

The portion begins with a list of the Tribes, the children of Israel. 

We certainly know the names of Jacob’s, aka, Israel’s sons. They were  the major players in the previous narrative. Why do we need to list them once again?

Rashi, the 11th century commentator on all the Torah answers by saying that even though they were mentioned by name during their lifetime, they are listed once again by name as they are about to pass on from the world stage, in order to inform, or to let it be known, how beloved each one was. Rashi continues by saying they were compared to the stars which are are lovingly brought out each night, counted one by one by name, before they are replaced, so to speak, in the firmament. 

It’s like the loving parent constantly doing roll call by name, to make sure all the precious children are present and accounted for. 

This exemplifies Gd’s love for the Tribes and for all of his creations by calling them by name. 

When parents name a child, they are accessing a sliver of prophecy as they identify the essence of the child by the name they choose. 

Everyone has a weakness. 

Some of us have more than one. 

I will admit to chocolate, pina coladas, jewelry and ... shoes. 

I somehow can always find the need for just one more  pair. 

Of course I don’t have an Imelda Marcos type obsession, not at all. But an extra pair here or there can never hurt. 

Last week I read a story about a pair of shoes which gave a much deeper meaning to this important accessory. 

Rabbi Paysach Krohn, contemporary story teller,shared an amazing vignette. 

This past September he took the opportunity to visit an aunt who lived in Israel. She had survived a terrorist attack years ago. In 2001 there was a bombing in a pizzeria in Jerusalem. (A young woman I personally knew, died in that attack. She was pregnant with her first child!) Rabbi Krohn’s aunt was climbing the steps to the second level of the pizza shop when the bomb detonated. The blast was so powerful it knocked off her shoes. Her daughter, who was with her, tried to help her leave the scene. But there was broken glass everywhere and she had no shoes. The Aunt hesitated and in a moment  of superhuman strength, her daughter lifted her and carried her across the street. As they stood outside,  opposite the smoldering destruction of what had once been Sbarro’s pizza shop, a man approached them with a pair of shoes in hand.  He was the owner of a shoe shop down the street and he wanted to give her a pair of shoes to protect her feet from the shards of glass underfoot. The mother and daughter left the area shortly thereafter, two people who were blessed to walk away unscathed, and able to walk out on their own two feet. 

The aunt told Rabbi Krohn that since that time, whenever life was full of travails and she just felt she couldn’t handle those challenges or she felt she really didn’t  deserve the test she was facing, she would go to her closet and don those shoes. She would put them on to remind herself of the kindness she had experienced. 

The shoes served for her as a talisman that whatever was coming her way she needed to change her focus and pay attention to the gifts within the picture. In this case to recognize she had been gifted the greatest gift of all, the gift of life. 

This weeks Torah portion is called Vayechi, which means, and he lived, referring to our patriarch Jacob and his life. 

But interestingly enough it doesn’t talk about Jacob’s life at all. The portion speaks about how Jacob died. 

It reveals the blessings Jacob bestowed on children and grandchildren at the end of his days, it talks about where he wished to be buried (back in the land of Israel, not in Egypt) and it is a testimony to a life well lived, with all his children following in his path. 

So why is it called VaYechi, and he lived? It should be called And he Died?

Every day is a special day. Today is unique. 

Today’s date is  a palindrome, which means 120221 can be read that way backwards or forwards. 

It’s also an ambigram, which means whether you read it right side up or upside down (if you put it in an analog calculator) it will read the same thing. 

That’s something that not everyone might notice. 

It’s all how you look at things. 

It’s how you look at something today. 

It’s the 5th night of Chanukah. 

On Chanukah we celebrate the victory the Jews secured over the Syrian-Greeks 2188 years ago in the year 167 BCE. 

It was a miraculous victory of a small band of Jewish fighters against the vast army of the Syrian Greeks. 

There was however a second miracle. Once the war was over, the Jews reclaimed the Temple which had been ransacked. In order to light the menora, the candelabra, oil was needed. The priests searched for an unopened, pure vial of oil. They were successful in finding one such jug which had enough oil to burn one day and miraculously the oil burned for 8 days straight-hence the 8 days of Chanukah. 

You might ask, and you wouldn’t be alone, why 8 days? The jug had enough oil to burn for 1 day, the miracle was the subsequent 7 days? 

Shouldn’t the holiday then be for 7 days?

There is a cartoon which depicts a turkey meeting a chicken.

They converse. 

The turkey says:

I am so anxious every year until Thanksgiving is over.

Replies the chicken:

Now you know how I feel every Shabbat!

Today is a day to be grateful and focus on our blessings. But for the Jewish people it’s Thanksgiving every week and every day. We are called Yehudim a word whose root word is Hodaa or thankfulness, and our mission is to be rooted in gratitude always, focusing on the people and the blessings in our lives who are truly a gift. Sometimes we have to pay very close attention to see the impact of the very special people in our lives. 

I want to gift you one of my most favorite stories. It is a true one that happened to Rabbi Aryeh Rodin of Dallas, Texas. 

In the 90s Rabbi Rodin was facing a huge financial deficit at his synagogue, when he received a call out of the blue. A Texan by the name of Lenny asked to come see him. The Rabbi was overwhelmed by his fundraising woes but he agreed to see Lenny. He was pleasantly surprised when Lenny arrived and made a handsome donation. The Rabbi was puzzled as they were strangers. Lenny shared he had just returned from a tour of Israel and had visited the Western Wall for the very first time. He watched a man deep in prayer. Lenny said he was very inspired by the intensity of the prayer of this man who was dressed in a long black coat with ringlets by his ears. Lenny watched as the Chassid prayed with deep fervor at the Wall. He wanted to connect with this person but was embarrassed to approach him. So instead he decided that upon his return to Dallas he would make a contribution to a Temple where this man might pray. 

That meeting began a true and lasting relationship between the Rabbi and Lenny. They taught each other much wisdom and became fast friends. A number of years later tragedy struck and Lenny passed away from a massive heart attack. Lenny’s mother came to the synagogue when they made a memorial service in Lenny’s honor. She was very moved as she began to truly understand the depth of Lenny’s commitment to the synagogue and its community and they to him, so she dedicated herself to support the synagogue in Lenny’s memory. 

Rabbi Rodin poignantly posits: imagine the day after 120 years when that Chasid who was praying devotedly at the Wall comes to meet his Maker. He will be bewildered and shocked to learn that he is credited with building a synagogue in Dallas Texas!  He might well respond with 

“Dallas? Vos iz Dallas?” (Yiddish for what on earth is Dallas, never heard of it)!

Our Sages teach us that every detail recorded in the Torah has a message for the ages. The Book of Genesis is full of iconic stories but if we look carefully there are often huge gaps in the narrative. This is because the vignettes that are chosen reveal life lessons that are applicable today. 

So too in the details. 

In this weeks Torah portion, VaYishlach, the verse states

“Jacob traveled to a place called Sukkot and there he built for himself a house and for his cattle he made Sukkot (booths, like the holiday), therefore he named the place Sukkot”

Rabbi Wosner asks if Jacob built a house for himself and booths for his cattle, why did he name the place after the booths for the animals? He should’ve called the place after the main thing which was the house he built for his family. Why didn’t Jacob call the place Bayit, or house?

Rabbi Wosner, who was a prominent Torah teacher, explains that when we are focusing on what we are doing, which is amplified by the naming of the place, the primary focus should be what we do for others. When you take care of another it has an eternal effect. What we do for another is what lasts. This is the lesson Jacob wanted to teach us by naming the place after his actions of taking care of the helpless animals. 

Some years ago there was a talented and charismatic teacher of Torah named Rabbi Shwadron. He was beloved by many and despite his stature was viewed as an accessible mentor. Many people would ask him to be their emissary to the leader of the generation another Rabbi called the Chazon Ish. Many would ask Rabbi Shwadron to travel from Jerusalem to Bnei Brak to get advice on their behalf. This was no small favor. It took rabbi Shwadron 4 hours each way for every request. He found himself doing the trek often and wondered if this was a good usage of his own time. 

On his next visit he posed the question to the holy Chazon Ish who gave him a beautiful answer. 

He said Chessed, or acts of loving kindness for another, is the essence of the soul. Any opportunity one has to do kindness for another should be taken joyfully. 

The first words in this week’s Torah portion are Vayetze Yaakov which translates to “and Jacob went out”. 

This refers to the fact that our patriarch Jacob left the warmth of his parents home to find his destiny in the wide world. 

On Monday the 14th cohort from Jewish Women’s Connection of Atlanta finished the Israel Momentum trip. 

38 women left home, literally whilst also going out of their comfort zone figuratively, to experience Israel, some for the very first time. 

This trip is impactful and life changing as relationships were forged and eyes opened. 

And quite a bit of spontaneous crying took place!

Nili Couzins, one of the Momentum trip leaders is wont to say “tears are the sweat of the soul”. Somehow on this trip the soul is leading the body and emotions and spiritual connections are the currency. 

It is no coincidence that our Parsha, Vayetze,  speaks about tears as well. 

This weeks Torah portion is an introduction to two of the matriarchs Leah and Rachel, who were sisters. When we are given a description of Leah the Torah tells us her eyes were weak and tender. 

Rashi, the super commentator is puzzled by the need for this description. If it was a blemish why mention it at all?

Rashi explains that Leah heard that Rebecca, her aunt, had two sons, and her father had two daughters, so she assumed the older son would marry the older daughter and the younger son would marry the younger daughter. 

This would seem to be a perfect solution and solve the Shidduch or matchmaking crisis. 

We are in Israel! 

After much longing and waiting, we have merited to bring the JWCATLANTA Trip 14 to the Holy Land. 

This longing is a microcosm, a mere speck, of the yearning that our ancestors experienced for centuries as they could only dream of coming to the Land of Israel. 

In this time of expedited travel and global connectivity, we have become complacent and have taken for granted our ability to come and go at will. Until we couldn’t!

Suddenly travel came to a full stop and the doors of our Homeland were closed and our count was no longer accessible to us. 

And now, in the blink of an eye, the doors have opened and we have merited to return. 

May we never again take this privilege for granted. 

Sivan Rahav Meir, noted news correspondent and Torah teacher reported last week on the passing of Binyomin Zev Wertzberger, a Holocaust survivor who came to Israel after the war and who personified this message. 

He would often speak of his horrific experiences in the Mathausen concentration camp. Every day, a Nazi guard would rant and rave at the prisoners saying

“ you think you are going to  Jerusalem? The only way you will get to Jerusalem is through the chimney of the crematorium”

Queen for the Day. 

It sounds like a royal treat. Everyone at your beck and call all day long. 

Queen for the Day was actually the name of a 1950’s television “reality” show that featured four women contestants who would share their tales of woe. The one whose hardships was the most heart rending would 

be showered with gifts. 

Not the path one would expect of a Queen. 

This week’s Torah portion is Chayei Sarah and it gives us some insight into our matriarch. 

The portion starts with a math word problem.  

We are told that 

“The life of Sarah was one hundred years, and twenty years , and seven years, the years of Sarah’s life.”

This sentence begs the question. 

Why 100+20+7? Why can’t we just say she was 127 years old when she died?

(I always did hate those math word problems!)

This bothers Rashi, the super commentator on the Torah, and he gives a number of explanations one of which is 

 to Sarah all her years were equal in goodness. 

How could Rashi make such a statement? 

Sarah’s life was full of trial, tribulation and disappointment. 

She was barren for 90 years, she was abducted by two powerful kings, she had to deal with Hagar and Yishmael and...

Sarah could have won Queen for the Day hands down. 

Yet Rashi teaches us that Sarah saw every episode of her life as “good”. 

There is an interesting Midrash that speaks of the famous Rabbi Akiva who was lecturing to his students and he saw they were dozing off in class. In order to wake them he shared a fascinating tidbit. 

Just as Sarah lived 127 years, so too did Queen Esther rule over 127 provinces. 

Interesting!

But not mind blowing. 

How was this supposed to stimulate the students to wake up and pay attention?

Master Chef. 

It is the eponymous title that is given to the winner of the competitive cooking reality television show. 

This evening JWCAtlanta was proud to introduce 

The Great Big Challah Bake Presents...Bring it Home, Shabbat Shalom. 

The program was a great success as winner of MasterChef Israel, Tom Franz, demonstrated three beautiful recipes which will enhance our Shabbat tables. 

At the end of his presentation, Tom shared some details of his personal journey. He was born a Catholic German who had very little connection to his religion. Through a series of events he traveled to Israel and became enamored of the country and its people. Despite some interest he was firmly rooted in Germany with family, friends and profession but he felt a connection to Israel he could not deny. Eventually Tom decided to convert to Judaism and made a life for himself in Israel. He married, and his wife, who recognized his culinary talents, convinced him to try out for MasterChef. 

Now Tom is an accomplished chef, author of cookbooks and has made his mark in the food world. His love of food was clearly evident as was his passion to use food to help celebrate Shabbat and create meaningful opportunities for family and friends to gather and have meaningful Jewish experiences. 

Perhaps most moving was Tom’s description of his family’s acceptance of his transformation. They were initially shocked by his decision to leave his family and career. But after his MasterChef win, numerous articles appeared in the German press detailing not only his accomplishments but also sharing his life’s journey.  The publicity created a groundswell of support and Tom’s parents were approached time and again by people who had read the story and were moved and impressed. This opened the door to allow his parents to embrace Tom’s journey. The food became the conduit for communication and acceptance.

To the degree that when Tom’s mom passed away, his father asked Tom to recite Kaddish for her. 

Tom used this vignette to highlight the knowledge and acceptance his father has gained as a result of his son’s journey. He, a Catholic German, is asking his Jewish son to recite Kaddish. It is quite astonishing. Tom said his father knows more about Judaism than one could ever imagine. 

As Tom was sharing his story I could not help but marvel at the parallel to the story of our patriarch Abraham. 

In last weeks Torah portion, Abraham was told to leave his homeland, place of birth and the house of his father. He begins his Lech Lecha journey to himself, developing his character and fine honing his special attribute of Chessed, loving kindness to others. 

This coming Monday is the 9th Yahrzeit of the passing of my Father. The year after his passing on Passover, I was sitting in synagogue,  waiting for the Yizkor service to begin. The Rabbi was giving a sermon. I must admit I wasn’t paying attention. I was feeling melancholy and missing my Dad. And then I sat up in shock as the Rabbi’s words began to penetrate. 

He was telling a story. 

It was my Dad’s favorite. My father was a wonderful raconteur and this one was a treasured pick. 

I couldn’t believe the “coincidence”. 

It felt like a kiss sent with love from afar. 

This is the story:

Shortly before Passover, a wealthy person of note went to his rabbi with a request. He understood that sometimes very righteous people merit a special opportunity to meet Elijah the Prophet. Elijah is perhaps the most beloved prophet in the Bible. He was a source of inspiration and will be the harbinger of the redemption, the light at the end of a long, dark journey.  The Prophet of consolation. 

This merchant desired the chance to meet this holy Prophet. Despite the Rabbi’s efforts to change his mind the man would not be deterred. Finally the Rabbi instructed him how to achieve this rare interaction. He told the gentleman to purchase a great deal of food and provisions. On the day before Passover was to begin he was to appear at the home of a destitute family, ask to be invited for  the Seder and when they would reply that they would love to invite him but they can’t even provide for their own, he should bring in all the foodstuffs and spend the holiday with them. Then he would merit seeing Elijah. 

The man followed the instructions to the letter. All went as planned. But no revelation of Elijah. After the holiday he returned to his mentor, greatly disappointed. The rabbi once again instructed the wealthy patron to load up his wagon and right before Shabbat go through the same routine. Then he would merit his heart’s desire. Once again all was done and the wealthy merchant approached the home of the needy family. He could hear the children crying to their Mother for food. She soothed them and  said to them: do not worry children, right before Passover we had nothing and Elijah the Prophet came, I am sure he will come again. 

The merchant knocked on the door and provided the family with the needed food. 

When he returned to the Rabbi and said once again he had not merited to see the holy Elijah.  The Rabbi responded: don’t you realize, for those people YOU were Elijah the Prophet. 

This week’s Torah Portion Is Lech Lecha. We are introduced to Abraham our forefather and the Torah will now begin to focus on this man and his family, the birthing of the Jewish people. 

Gd gives Abraham a directive, an imperative command 

“go for yourself, from your land, from your relatives, and from your fathers home to the land I will show you.”

If you were being told to go on a journey what would be your first question? Like the New York cabbie:

Where to? 

Abraham begins a trek without a destination. 

Why doesn’t Gd tell him where he is going?

Rashi, the super commentator answers that Gd wanted to reward Abraham for every step of the journey. Because reaching the final destination is not the goal. It’s the attempt you make to get there and what you do along the way. 

Abraham had to put his faith in Gd and began the journey. 

“Shabbat is the day we stand still and let all our blessings catch up with us” 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks

Jwcatlanta is gearing up for our annual participation in the the Shabbat Project, international celebration of Shabbat which was created by South Africa’s Chief Rabbi Warren Goldstein. 

This year we veer from our Challah bake modality and instead bring you Chef Tom Franz, winner of Israel’s Master Chef, who will lead us in a preparation of a fabulous Shabbat meal, while sharing his unique story and revealing how Shabbat allows him to fully count his blessings. 

We hope you will join us on October 21 for this tantalizing event. 

This weeks Torah portion is Noach. The name Noach means pleasant and is also related to the word nach which means to rest. 

On Shabbat we enjoy the Menucha or the opportunity to take the time to stop the constant creation and commotion which consumes us and allows us to just be. 

It is not a time of becoming -

It is a time of being!

We can focus and reacquaint ourselves with our family, friends and even our own inner selves. 

It’s the pause that refreshes. 

We also turn to the words of the weekly Parsha for inspiration and introspection and glean timely nuggets which can energize us once we move from the serenity back into the maelstrom of daily life. 

“Impossible is Nothing”

is the title of a current publicity campaign created by Adidas. 

It features athletes who have overcome challenges and have succeeded beyond their wildest expectations despite the formidable tests they needed to overcome. 

One of the athletes featured in the campaign is Beatie Deutsch, diminutive marathon runner, a 31 year old Orthodox mother of five, who began running at the age of 25. In 2018 Beatie Deutsch was the first placed Israeli in the Jerusalem marathon and in 2019 she won first place in the Israeli National  Championships with a time that was the the fifth best result of all time for Israeli female runners. 

All the while running in a skirt!

In 2020 she qualified for Olympic ranking as one of the top 80 women runners in the world. 

However when the Tokyo Olympics was postponed due to Covid the women’s marathon was moved from Sunday to Saturday which precluded her participation as she is Shabbat observant and could not run on Shabbat. 

She appealed the change but was denied by the IOC. 

There have been plenty of challenges in Beatie’s race to stardom, but she perseveres with faith and determination. 

Just two days ago she suffered another major disappointment. 

After training intensively, being completely prepared and in peak physical condition, Beatie ran the first half of the Berlin marathon in top form. 

And then her body gave out. She was able to complete the race but it was a disaster. Her body  gave way and she later found out that she had contracted Covid which completely sapped her strength. 

All of her intensive training was for nought. 

Her hopes and dreams were dashed in a moment. 

In a recent post on the subject

Beatie shared a powerful insight

“Our lives are a patchwork of highs and lows, victories and setbacks. There is so much we can’t control but what we can always control is the theme song running throughout. Do we embrace the challenges in our life and view them as an opportunity to become stronger.”

We have just completed our own marathon, the High Holiday season of prayer, introspection, reflection and serious bouts of eating which has now come to the finish line. 

The black ribbon of highway of the coming year stretches before us and we hope that our “training” has prepared us for the hills and dales that will appear. 

The days after the holidays we are coming down from that spiritual pinnacle and we hope to take some of that  energy and incorporate that into our daily lives.

Eats, Shoots and Leaves is a non-fiction book which bemoans the state of punctuation in American lingua franca. 

The title of the book is the punch line of a joke about a panda who goes into a restaurant. 

If the comma is in the wrong place it seems the panda eats, shoots (to kill) and then leaves. It really is supposed to be a description of the panda, who eats a diet of shoots and leaves. 

Another version of this idea is exemplified by the phrase - 

Let’s eat Grandma. 

Depending on where you put the comma will totally change the message. 

Either we are calling Grandma to dinner, or, she IS dinner. 

This past week in our synagogue during the reading of the Torah portion the reader stopped suddenly in mid-sentence. He was peering intently at the black letters on white parchment in the Torah and then called the Rabbi down for a consultation. The law is that if a single letter in the Torah is cracked, erased or missing, it invalidates the scroll and needs to be repaired before it can be read from, so a clarification was required before the reading could continue. 

Why does it matter if a letter is missing? 

Why would it make the entire scroll invalid?

The Torah is comprised of 600,000 letters, each one vital to the completion and usability of the scroll. If even one is missing the whole scroll is invalid. 

The 600,000 letters are symbolic of the souls of the Jewish people. 

Each soul is vital. 

If even one soul is missing the fabric of the Jewish people is incomplete. 

This reminds us that each and every one of us has a unique role to fulfill in the eternal production of humanity. 

There is only one you. 

When I was a little girl I was very careful not to upset my Mother. 

But being a little girl sometimes I did. 

There was one thing that would upset my Mother more than anything else. 

When I would fight with my sister. 

(Now I know you are shaking your head in disbelief, but fight I did!)

My Mother was an only child herself. Whenever we would fight she would always tell us

“I wish I had a sister. We never would have fought. Why on earth would you fight with a sister?”

Spoken like a person who never experienced sibling rivalry!

We are now in the midst of the 10 Days of Repentance. 

This an opportunity for us to take stock of our challenges and recalculate and recalibrate on the journey towards becoming a better version of ourselves. This culminates in Yom Kippur when we stand before Gd having done some repair. 

The Mishna in the Tractate Yuma states however, that Yom Kippur does not atone for sins committed between one person and another unless one has sought to appease whoever they have wronged and received forgiveness. 

The power of Yom Kippur to atone for sins cannot be activated unless we have assuaged any hurt feelings. 

This seems very challenging. How do we know how to do this?

We actually know exactly what to do!

This is the time of year when one of the songs in the Top 40 is the irresistible ditty

 Dip the Apple in the honey...may you have a sweet New Year

T.T.T.O Oh My Darling Clementine!

If you are not familiar with this catchy tune, you can find it on YouTube to enhance your Rosh Hashana experience. 

One of my kids, back in his preschool days, took poetic license with this song and insisted on changing  the word honey and replacing it with the word ketchup, despite many eye rolls from an older (read 6 year old) sibling. 

When asked about the change from the traditional honey, the child answered, because I don’t like honey, I like ketchup. 

There’s always one in every crowd. 

But it does beg the question. Do we have to dip the apple in honey?  If we are hoping for a sweet year why not use sugar or even ketchup if that captures your fancy and tastebuds?

And perhaps even more profoundly, besides perhaps providing some entertainment for the preschool set,  why are we indulging in this activity at all?