Grace in the small moments

I sat at a booth in the diner, chatting with the stranger across from me while the scent of rich coffee wafted past. Both of us, neither knowing the other’s name, were having a lively debate about a banal topic: Pacific Northwest winter weather. He was waiting for his to-go breakfast order to be ready, and so was I. We were surrounded by twinkling Christmas lights, decorations, and a fair amount of holiday cheer – fueled by the excellent coffee served at this little, small-town diner. 

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Just what I needed

The mezuzah on the door post and Magen David hanging by our front door.

For the last couple of months, two ladies who are Jehovah’s Witnesses have been stopping by our house every third week or so. They are very aware of my status as a Jew because the posts by my front door make it clear where I land on matters of the spirit.

While I am firmly rooted in my “religion” (I put that word in quotes because Judaism is so much more to me than just a religious practice), I also believe in being kind.

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