One hour to candlelighting.
I sprinkled the crumb topping on my apple cobbler, threw it in the oven, and looked around. Way to go. Challah, fish, chicken, three sides, and really cool dessert.
We were hosting four 17-year-olds for Shabbos, and I was excited. Living out of town, we don’t get sleepover guests much. So when the principal of my New York alma mater asked me to host for the 12th grade convention, I was thrilled.
A knock on the door, a flurry of hellos, a quick round of Jewish geography. I offered cold drinks, plates of piping hot potato kugel, and began walking the girls to their room. Picture-perfect, Martha-Stewart hosting. And then Shira emerged.
“Why do you have a red dot on your nose?” she asked a gangly girl whose face was mottled with acne. The group tittered politely.
This one’s in print. Some of our best stories live in the magazine — subscribe to get Mishpacha every week.
