Millennia later, can we seize the sparks of Avraham Avinu’s sacrifice, and bind our hearts to our Creator?
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The Simchas Torah afternoon drags on endlessly. Crumpled neon-colored candy wrappers litter every surface. Dazed children faces smudged with sticky sweat roam the shul while the women sit restlessly waiting for every man to be called up to the Torah.
We squash into the makeshift lounge area wedged on the old brown couch like sardines. I am lodged between the wall and a woman from the community. Her face turns to me attempting conversation in the confined space. “Do you you know want to have children?”
My heart stops. Am I hearing correctly? A woman I barely know asking such a sensitive question in the most un-private space? I want to run. But I am literally cornered. “Um yeah I do” I mumble.
Oblivious to my discomfort she babbles on eagerly “I just want to ask — has your husband been given Kol Hane’arim? Because I don’t know if you know it’s an amazing segulah for having children. There was this couple who was married for over eight years — they were not religious. People begged them for years to go to Kol Hane’arim but for some reason they didn’t want to. Finally I got a big rav to invite them and they had children.”
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