"The pages are yellowing, the handwriting is starting to fade… I would love to gift you with Mommy’s recipe book"
Menucha Publishers
My daughter, Leah
Leah, I stepped into your life four years ago, when you were eight years old, only two years after your dear mother passed away. When I married your father, I was given the blessing of four beautiful, precocious, grieving children. As your stepmother, I always want to keep strong the connection between your past and present.
Most children are raised by three partners: their father, their mother, and HaKadosh Baruch Hu. Leah and her three siblings have four partners: HaKadosh Baruch Hu, a father, a mother watching and praying from Above, and a mother tending to their needs down here. Before I met you and your siblings for the first time, I davened at your mother’s tziyun. I knew we were forming a unique partnership, and I needed a powerful and joint force behind me.
Baruch Hashem, you opened your heart to me, and I’ve watched with pride as you grew and matured. My efforts for Leah and her three brothers focuses on healing and providing safety and love for them. A large part of that is cherishing their past: the woman who gave birth to them and who loved them as only a mother can.
Leah, like your mother, you have a love for the kitchen and for experimenting with recipes. In our drawer, where we keep all our shiny new recipe books, we also have a bulging collection of many pages of your Mommy’s handwritten recipes, many of which you remember her making, many of which you fondly recall eating and loving.
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