Three doses of inspiration to lift the spirit and soul
ITwas the coldest night Atlanta, Georgia, had seen in eight years. The kind of night where the cold feels alive, biting through walls and windows, demanding attention. A cold we definitely were not used to, having spent ten years in Eretz Yisrael.
Inside our home, though, all was warm and peaceful. The Shabbos candles still flickered faintly, the children were asleep, and my husband and I were winding down after the seudah.
Until the beeping began.
Somewhere around midnight, a shrill beep, beep, beeeeeep pierced the quiet. My husband, Shlomo, dragged himself out of bed to investigate. It turned out to be an old carbon monoxide detector plugged into the hallway outlet.
We stood there in the dark, whispering back and forth. Our newer, hardwired detectors hadn’t gone off, so surely this outdated one was malfunctioning. Confident that modern technology was on our side, we went back to bed.
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