From 5:30 to 6:30 this Yom Tov (second day of first days) afternoon I told stories to young children (4-7). I started with a couple of Chelm stories. One of the kids had heard that the people of Chelm were actually wise. I said I heard that too and that I'd also heard that people made up the stories about them being not so smart out of jealousy and that it wasn't so nice. She politely raised her hand and asked why, if I myself said it wasn't nice was I telling Chelm stories. I said that maybe from now on I would just tell the stories and not a town.

Afterwards I was talking with the youth leader and he said that stories were like a blanket, warm and comforting and snuggly. I was reminded of, and shared with him, the story from the Gemorah about how in a time of Rabbi Yehudah bar Ilai there was such poverty that six students had to share one blanket. Rabbi Chaim Shmuelewitz says that it's hard to conceive of six people sharing one blanket. He says that it's possible if each one is trying to give the blanket to the other.

A couple that I've been spending Pesach with up here at Camp IF for years told me that they needed to meet with me right after Yom Tov let out. A lot of people talk with me and I've already counseled some people on their relationships and listened to others share about their illnesses and more. I wondered what this was (and guessed that maybe they wanted to set me up). We met in the bookstore, which is left unlocked, and was the most private place around. Hannah, who always helps me set up my spot and provides me with water when I give my kiddush talk made me a blanket as a birthday present! It's her own creation, that she usually sells - Snuggle Fleece Blankets! Wow! This brought me great joy.

I like being here because the tone is not banal but quite the other end of the spectrum. People who come here care and connect and are interested in ideas and growth. it is a blessing to be part of this Pesach program.

I was talking to someone yesterday about Rav Nachman stories. I said how I often think about the one about the Xs on the head. (A town's water (or wheat) is tainted and makes anyone who imbibes it crazy. A king and his assistant hold out, but eventually, if they want to stay alive, they have to imbibe. But they each put an X on the other one's forehead so that they will at least remember that they are crazy.) I said that before I ever get a "smart" phone I'll need to put a mark on my head so people can remind me how crazy it is to be connected to technology like that constantly. He said he had considered throwing his Iphone into his chametz fire.

Then he said a line that struck me, "Today we are so available that we are not available." I pray we all be blessed to be available to each other in the emotional more than technical sense of the word, always.

It's about 11:10 PM, almost time for bed.  I'm still processing though.  Someone who worked here for many years up until this one, and who lost her father and worked through some of that with me a few years ago gave me wine and chocolate for Pesach. It was a beautiful gesture much appreciated.  I think I can't eat one of the boxes of chocolate covered marshmallow twists though, as the hashgacha is by this rabbi, who represents a shitah, but not the one widely accepted.

We just watched The Final Victory, the interesting story of Dr. Felix Zandman that is not (in America) well known. It's available to watch in full here.

Hagaddah ideas are still resonating - atzabeihem is used to mean idols - atzabeihem kesef vezahav. Via the 1974 SOY Hagaddah - this could mean those things that make us sad are silver and gold.

Rav Kook notes the halacha of remembering the Beit HaMikdash. The Shulchan Aruch says that people often kept this halacha by setting an unused place at the table. He says that at the seder, because the cups of wine are so primary, we remember the Churban by having an empty cup on the table. The custom, for many, is to fill the cup of Eliyahu before Shfoch Chamatcha. That's the empty cup that has been there. And we fill it now at the point of the Seder when we are so filled with hope and really feel that the future Geulah is coming.

I don't know what to write or where to write it, not much is new and yet so much is. I am feeling a bit run down, the start of a cold. I've run 2 seders of about 4 hours each - leading and singing and teaching and standing on a chair and running around like a chicken without a head. I spoke between Mincha and Maariv on Monday and Tuesday night (the second night longer than the first) about the Hagaddah. I ran the minyanim, led some of the davening myself, did some of the laining. I spoke twice for about an hour each time at kiddush time (humor, freedom). And unofficially I taught the day camp little kids and spoke with a bunch of people as rabbi. I hurt one woman's feelings and hope she accepted my apologies. I read and learned and shared some nice new thoughts.  Today I oversaw and negotiated the three  minyanim and helped with some programming, listened to some people's stories, and also had some space.

May we all be blessed with redemption, and soon.

Please pass the redemption, and the poetry, the you being you and me being me.
Ascension is a Jewish theme, particularly between Pesach and Shavuot, it's what we are meant to do.
So, I sit, quietly doing my avodah, as you do yours, even if we don't know that our lives are holy service.
Someday we will not need to fall in the same bowl of soup again and we together with G-d will stand outside the soup pot and boil the perfect recipe.
Only me, it's all I can be, but to do so I need to stop imitating you.
Very much pain, it's what I've been hearing a lot of lately - like the 93 year old man who told me today that his greatest wish in life is to not be alive this time next year.
Everyone is alive for a reason - I need to believe that this is true, and I actually do.
Redemption is on one or the other side of the door.