Since You Asked

My grandson asked, "If you were to pick a day in history you remember well, which would it be?" I thought over my choices: the Cuban Crisis; the fall of the Berlin Wall; the inauguration of the first Catholic president. His assassination was certainly a staggering event as I was on the Judah streetcar in San Francisco on the way to a pre-natal visit when I heard the news. On a brighter side, the first words uttered on the moon thrilled me. However, none of these compared to one day in May. 

   My father had been assigned earlier in the year of 1945 to Jerusalem. Our family was staying temporarily at the American School of Oriental Research, overlooking the Mount of Olives. Dr. Nelson Glueck, an archaeologist and friend, came to the door one day and whispered to my mother, "The war is over." And then he left. She turned to me, her eyes wide, "The war is over!!" I knew what that meant as for the two years previous my dad had been assigned by the U.S. State Dept. to Angra do Heroismo, a city in the Azores where the Army and Navy soldiers made our house their, "Home away from home." I had overheard many a conversation about the "European Theater," the losses of people we had known and I had once slipped onto a plane full of wounded soldiers on their way back to the States. The horrors of war were branded in my mind and remain vivid all these decades later. Being only six, I didn't register the date or time but I remember clearly the sudden optimism, the feeling thatnow things would be "all better." I remember it was the month of May because that was my mother's birthday month and somehow the celebration became mixed with the personal joy we had. My mother often remarked that Rabbi Glueck's reaction to the news was vastly different from people dancing and shouting in the streets but I felt the same way--
stunned.  There have been momentous days in my life but none have compared to that very quiet announcement by a man who would years later give the benediction at the swearing in ceremony of President John F. Kennedy.

...may the blessings of good memories 

and learned lessons be yours...

Sketch by Halit

Friday Noon

Strolling along York Avenue, I noticed a cluster of buildings that seemed to fit in with the hospitals close by but had posters which indicated a wealth of what my daughter at age four called, "Distinguished Avocados." Rockefeller University overlooks the East River and has a history in science I did not know. It is a biomedical center with 73 laboratories devoted to basic and clinical research. 23 of its scientists have won a Nobel prize. However, the real surprise for me was the small recital hall with free recitals on Fridays at noon. Last Friday there was a group singing and playing my favorite kind of music (well, tied with my other all-time favorites). TENET, according to the New York Times is, "Sensational." SPIRITUS COLLECTIVE  "unites breath, spirit and inspiration to produce meaningful sacred music utilizing wind instruments, specifically period brass instruments (natural trumpet, cornett and sackbut). Combined with period strings and voices spiritus is a versatile ensemble, capable of recreating the vast and fascinating 17th century repertoire." Behind the performers, placed in a wide arc, were forty votive candles which were the perfect touch. It was so easy to imagine a side, or Lady chapel, in a country far away where the music filled the space for an hour or so of enchantment. I did not know the pieces but the words such as, "Sanctorum" sent me right back to my childhood when morning classes would be suspended to go pray and sing along the stone work corridors of the convent school. How lovely to feel the music shut out the world beyond the walls. A tiny glimpse of Heaven. The Friday Noon Recitals are gems, hidden just past the front garden. Are you as fond as I of beautiful things not seen from outside? A geode. A cavern. A pocketful of silver coins. 

~~~~~~~~~~

...may the blessings of delightful surprises be yours...

Carolyn Meyer and Moi

  It was a dark and stormy night in Eureka, California. Earlier in the day, I had been to the wonderful Eureka library which resembled a ship builder's project with its strong wooden beams and its high windows looking out to an inlet of the bay. I had gone to see if there might be a DVD of The Phantom of the Opera. Just past the entrance, on the left, was the Young Adult collection, an unusual placement for a library. I have a great fondness for YA books. They are imaginative, compact, and tell a good story. A cover caught my eye, Loving Will Shakespeare. It showed a young couple appropriately dressed for his time, walking away from the reader, wrapped up in themselves, unconcerned about anything, briskly on their way to their destiny. I was not familiar with the author. I grabbed the book and headed for staying up late in the night reading this completely entrancing view of Shakespeare's youth. I looked up the website and discovered I could, "Contact." I wrote a short fan message. I like short as short doesn't interrupt a busy person and cuts to the chase, much like the writing of a YA book. I was pleased to receive a prompt reply. Today, some three years later I met Carolyn Meyer in person while she was visiting her agent in NYC. We talked of many things. I particularly liked learning about her family and her breaking into the writing world. And, of course, I had to tell her several of my stories. In our brief time together, I flashed back to that stormy night in Eureka, and thought about how, once again, the Keeper of the Universe had been working behind the scenes to arrange a lovely conjunction of friends at lunch. Who would have guessed such a possibility? I am currently reading The Bad Queen in which Carolyn Meyer has given us a perfect example of what she does best--putting herself into the setting and becoming the character. How does she do this?? How can she be Anastasia, Isabella, Catherine, Nannerl (Mozart's sister), and numerous others? The blurb says she has written 50 books. It was a rare and beautiful day in the Big Apple and I was privileged to meet the recipient of my fan letter, a generous and gifted writer with a deep and hearty laugh and a willingness to listen.