The seudah was beautiful. But I feel empty inside
When I read that, I was touched. And saddened.
When Motzaei Shabbos arrives in my house, I typically say Baruch Hamavdil, pull off the white tablecloths, change the kids into pjs, and start doing laundry. Later, I drink a strong coffee. I hardly feel a lack.
Or do I?
I wonder this as another Shabbos is heralded in.
I hastily hang up the Mr. Clean–scented mop. My house is sparkling clean, the hot plate packed, fridge loaded with fresh food.
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