Kumzitz songs, slow songs, gratitude and yearning and chizuk and sweet, simple joy
The classroom is an explosion of balloons. On the walls, on the ceiling, tied to chairs, and bobbing gently at the windows. Every color, different shapes, a mismatch of metallic balloons in turquoise and silver alongside regular party balloons in bold kiddie reds, blues, yellows, oranges, and greens—
I blink. And then, before I can even register the scene, I’m greeted with a wave of song: Chasdei Hashem, ki lo samnu, ki lo chalu rachamav…
My classmates are dancing toward the door, arms around each other, voices raised in song and smiles beaming on their faces.
They’re dancing toward me. For me.
The balloons, the party…
It’s for me.
Mrs. Gerber signals me to come inside. Her face is wreathed in smiles. “We just had to celebrate the wonderful news, Ashira,” she says, eyes crinkling and looking slightly damp. “We were all so relieved to hear from Raizy that your parents were found. And when she said you’d be coming in to school today, we decided to celebrate together with you.”
Create a free account to keep reading.
