Tears and Honey

“Right here,” Dubi says, pointing to one of the lower shelves.

Everyone in our family gathers around the bookshelf, pulling out seforim and tracing the gold lettering on each spine hoping that maybe, just maybe, this one will be it….

We search everywhere. But the machzor is nowhere to be found. The clock is ticking; it’s almost time to go to shul.

IT’SRosh Hashanah eve — a picture-perfect scene. The candles are taking their first breaths, soft and glowing. The table is regal, set in maroon and gold and studded with dishes of honey. The aroma of fresh, sweet crumble challah drifts throughout the house.