CarePackages and Other Stuff

Boker Tov;
I spoke to Mark last night; he finally recieved the box we send from Montana.
I couldn't state what was in it lest Mark read the blog first, but it included:
A huge red monkee from cousin Jaylene and a note.
Monkee Butt Talic powder from Carson, Angela and Jaylene, with a note from each.
Chocolate, big jar of mixed nuts, several bags of dried fruits, Huckaberry Taffy and love notes from me.
And from Aunt Michael and Uncle Jim, four pack of TP, Baby wipes and a sheet of Mr. Obama compassion-sand paper.
Because the unit was reciving a guest on post, Mark could only look at his gifts. The letters will have to wait until later.
There is always comings and goings where Mark is stationed. New units coming in, old ones going home. Lots of paperwork along with getting the new units up to speed with the projects being worked on.
He still enjoys getting out to meet the locals, but of course it is still dangerous and we keep praying for not just Mark, but for all those who serve.
In fact, recently, I was taken to task for my "lack of faith" on fackbook and Mark had a comment about that. "Those who are your friends or think they are should remember your beloved is half way around the world in a dangerous area and should give you some slack."
Even in Afghanistan, he's got my back.

Mark's coming home on Leave soon, so I went to the after Valentine's Day sales. The above candle is amoung the things I found for 50%.
I do have a red tablecloth, so with the extra little things and gifts I found, I hope to make his Home Come a nice one.

This little heart shaped bottle is one I shall fill with a love note for my beloved.

I couldn't resist. He sings, 'I'm Too Sexy.'

No explaintion needed, though the candles are rose scented.
Hey Laini! I thought you were a frum?
Yeah, I am.  And I make being a frum fun :)

Brooker T Washington

  Booker T. Washington.  Born April 5, 1856 in Hale's Ford, Virginia, U.S. Mr. Washington died November 14, 1915 at age 59 in Tuskegee, Alabama, U.S.
He was known as an Occupation Educator, Author, and African American Civil Rights Leader
and today several schools are named after him, my son attended the one here in Virginia

He was born into slavery to a white father and a slave mother in a rural area in southwestern Virginia.
After emancipation, he worked in West Virginia in a variety of manual labor jobs before making his way to Hampton Roads seeking an education. He worked his way through Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute (now Hampton University) and attended college at Wayland Seminary. After returning to Hampton as a teacher, in 1881 he was named as the first leader of the new Tuskegee Institute in Alabama.
It wasn't until high school that I learned the T stood for Taliaferro.
Booker Taliaferro Washington was an American political leader, educator, orator and author. He was the dominant figure in the African American community in the United States from 1890 to 1915. Representing the last generation of black leaders born in slavery, and speaking for those blacks who had remained in the New South in an uneasy modus vivendi with the white southerners, Washington was able throughout the final 25 years of his life to maintain his standing as the black leader because of the sponsorship of powerful whites, substantial support within the black community, his ability to raise educational funds from both groups, and his skillful accommodation to the social realities of the age of segregation.
Mr. Washington received national prominence for his Atlanta Address of 1895, attracting the attention of politicians and the public as a popular spokesperson for African American citizens. He built a nationwide network of supporters in many black communities, with black ministers, educators, and businessmen composing his core supporters. He played a dominant role in black politics, winning wide support in the black community and among more liberal whites (especially rich northern whites). He gained access to top national leaders in politics, philanthropy and education. His efforts included cooperating with white people and enlisting the support of wealthy philanthropists, which helped raise funds to establish and operate thousands of small community schools and institutions of higher education for the betterment of blacks throughout the South, work which continued for many years after his death.
Northern critics called Dr. Washington's followers the "Tuskegee Machine." After 1909, Washington was criticized by the leaders of the new NAACP, especially W.E.B. DuBois, who demanded a harder line on civil rights protests.  Mr. Washington replied that confrontation would lead to disaster for the outnumbered blacks, and that cooperation with supportive whites was the only way to overcome pervasive racism in the long run. Some of his civil rights work was secret, such as funding court cases.
In addition to the substantial contributions in the field of education, Dr. Washington was the author of 14 books; his autobiography, Up From Slavery, first published in 1901, is still widely read today. During a difficult period of transition for the United States, he did much to improve the overall friendship and working relationship between the races. His work greatly helped lay the foundation for the increased access of blacks to higher education, financial power, and understanding of the U.S. legal system led to the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s and adoption of important federal civil rights laws.
Mr. Washington is an example of one little boy of colour, born and raised of a single mother, who went on to change the world and make it a better place.

Happy Valentine's Day, Beloved.

This is my first hand @ making a video. Hope it came out ok.

Happy Birthday, Mummie

On this day on Black History month, 76 years ago today Maggie Lee Prude, youngest daughter of Callie and Pink Prude was born.

Finishing high school at age seven-teen, she went on to business school and has worked as an office account and later become a legal secretary for the Boston law firm Hill and Barrow.

As a young woman, mummie would change her name to Margaret and outside the family, few got away with calling her Maggie.

She had and raised two daughters, Elayne and Eileen. Both proved in her words to be: "a delight and a challenge."

Mummie was a mum to every child in whatever neighorhood we lived in, even to my cousin Renee who is still dear to her heart.

After my sister and I were on our own, mum recieved an offer to move to Virginia Beach and work at CBN. Later, she would go to work at it's TV station and retired as the Human Resource director.

During this time she served at her home church in many areas, including President of the Women's Group, teaching High School Sunday School and as a Missionary.

After retirement, Mummie would return to CNB as a Phone Counselor, first part-time and then full time, until her stroke ten years ago.

Still going strong, Mummie has had the joy of seeing both her girls marry the loves of their lives, see  five grandchildren and soon five great-grandchildren.

To this day, I still meet people who tell me how my mother touched their lives; encouraging to become doctors, lawyers and even servicemen and women, missioniares and teachers. I would hear about those she prayed for and how The Holy One answered her prayers. The delight she brings the staff of where she lives, the love her sons-in-law have for her, 

and the pure joy she brings to all who know her. Even retired ministers often call upon her for chats and to be uplifted.

What a blessing it is to still pick up the phone and hear her voice, to recieve her counsel and support. To laugh with her and even still be able to cry on her shoulder as I did when I was a child.

So happy birthday, Mummy. Thanks for being not only the greatest mum on earth, but just for the honour of being your eldesst daughter.
Blessed Are You, O L-rd, King of the World, Who Blesses us with such good gifts.

It's Still Hard.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Valentine's Day.
I have so enjoyed looking upon the flowers Mark send, reading the little notes, hugging the little bear and enjoying the chocolate.
But it is just isn't the same without his being here.
This night has always been special. After a special meal and the exchanging of gifts, by the glow of candle light we would dance, remembering how Mark came to ask me to be his wife. Remembering the weeks that led up to the wedding and other events in our lives.
I would open the family Bible and look upon the rose he gave me the night Mark asked me to be his wife.
Now, I inhale the roses and hug the bear, waiting for my beloved to return to me.
It is part of being a military wife. Waiting.
It is still hard.
But having task at hand and having the love of Mark gets me through it.

This afternoon, I watched a Hebrew gentleman and his sons shopping (his kippah gave it away). He was was looking for just the right roses for his wife.
One of the sons asked why his abba was being so pickly, imma would love whatever she was given.
But the older boy pointed out to his younger brother: Imma loves yellow roses.
This father taught his sons well. By taking the time to find just the right coloured roses and making her favorite meal, he was teaching his boys how to love their wives. A good husband doesn't just provides and pays the bills; he knows the little things that makes her happy and willing to go out of his way to amke sure he finds that would delight her heart.
Even if it's yellow roses.
I couldn't help but smile, for I could see my Mark in this man, the same loving, caring, serving heart.
It is men that this man shopping for roses and my Mark that can make every day Valentine's Day.
Though to be honest, I wish Mark was here to give me the flowers himself.

Love From Afghanistan

Lialia Tov:
This morning I recieved a wondeful surprise; my beloved called.
I had spoken to him last night and to hear his voice first time this morning was a delight.
He asked: "have you got them yet?"
Got what?
It seems that my beloved send me special gifts for our special day. It was Valentine's Weekend that he asked me to be his wife.

And being the romantic he is, Mark didn't forget.

This arrived first, Happy Valentine's Day.
And then for our anniversary:

What was really touching was the woman who delievered the flowers and the gifts.
"I pray he gets to come home to you soon."
So do I.

LoveFromIraq: Priceless#links

LoveFromIraq: Priceless#links

I often hear: I don't know how you do it. Simply: knowing my husband loves me, the Love and support of G-d, plus the building of a good support group, I take one moment at a time.

Ahavah

When two people sincerely love one another, the Holy One reigns between them. This is alluded to by the Hebrew word for love (i.e., ahavah, אהבה), the gematria of which is thirteen, but when shared with another it is multiplied: 13 x 2 = 26 - the same value for the Name of the LORD (יהוה).

Army Wive's Prayer

Army wives prayer Dear L-rd,



Give me the greatness of heart to see the difference between duty and his love for me. Give me understanding that I may know, when duty calls him he must go. Give me a task to do each day, to fill the time when he's away. And Lord, when he's in a foreign land, keep him safe in your loving hand. And Lord, when duty is in the field, please protect him and be his shield. And Lord, when deployment is so long, please stay with me and keep me strong. Amen.

Writing On The Palm of My Hand

Boker Tov;
It was an early morning for me. I awoke thinking about Mark this morning, wondering how he's doing. If he recieved the carepackage from the family in Montana yet. If it's still snowing in Afghanistan. Or just cold. It has been a few days since I'd spoken to him, and that included telling him about the death of someone we knew.

I also thought about Val and her family this morning. Today is Bill's funernal. And with the snow coming down as hard as it is, I won't be able to attend. I will keep Val and her family in my prayers.

I do have a confession to make: I write in the palm of my hand. I always have.
Since I was a child, I could be found drawing along the lines of my palms. Or praticing my spelling or math. Later, I would go on to make little notes to myself and even make list.
People thought me strange. Until it was learned that my former Pastor, Nate Atwood, one of the smartest men I know, also wrote in the palm of his hand.
Like the twisitng of our locks when studying Torah or chewing on a pencil when trying to figure out a math problem, we all have our little habits that get us through the day.
Like blogging.
There are those who think I am crackers to keep a blog, putting my inner most thoughts (for the most part) for all the world to see.
But then, since when did I care what people thought of me?

Shoshanna Johnson: American hero

I remember the afternoon the news broke: of the soldiers captured, wounded and killed. I well rmemeber Shoshanna, her strenght dispite the fear in her eyes (who wouldn't be) A woman I have great respect for and look forward to reading her book.


First Black Female Prisoner of War Tells Harrowing Tale



By Lynette Holloway on Feb 9th 2010 11:46AM

Filed under: Black History Month
Much like the powerful images of Tuskegee airmen in full regalia sidled next to their planes during World War II, the image of Shoshana Johnson being escorted to safety after her captivity in Iraq is indelibly imprinted in the minds of television viewers across the world.
It was especially poignant for African Americans, who saw it as a fleeting moment of vindication for a time when blacks in the military were not acknowledged for their service.
Now, years later, Johnson, a former U.S. Army cook has helped change history again for blacks in the military. She was thrust into the spotlight when, in the early days of the Iraq War, she was shot in both ankles as her convoy of mechanics, cooks and disabled vehicles wandered into the city of Nasiriyah, Johnson writes in her newly released memoir, 'I'm Still Standing: From Captive U. S. Soldier to Free Citizen--My Journey Home.'
The wandering convoy touched off a bloody battle that left 11 U.S. soldiers dead and six abducted and held as prisoners of war, including Johnson and her friend, Jessica Lynch, she writes in the gripping memoir released just in time for Black History Month.
"I was shaking,'' she writes. "I was saying the Lord's Prayer to myself...when someone grabbed my legs and pulled me from my shelter. And like that, I became a prisoner of war.''
She became the first female prisoner of war in Operation Iraqi Freedom and the first black female prisoner of war in U.S. history. But the Pentagon peddled Lynch's story, saying she went down fighting. Lynch later wrote a book correcting the story, saying she never fired a shot before being critically injured.
While Johnson's ordeal received less media attention, she was treated like a star on her home base at Fort Bliss, Texas. She was given light duties to allow her wounds to heal and was assigned by ranking officers and supervisors to represent the Army at high-profile events, which drew grumblings and rancor from some of her fellow soldiers.
"Being a POW was horrible, but some of the comments I received from fellow soldiers felt just as bad,'' she said in an interview with BV on Books. "I had a lot of support from the African American community, but it's like someone once said, 'Not every black person is your friend, and not every white person is your enemy. A black male was upset because I went to an Oscar De La Hoya fight. He was like, 'I was in the same Army and I didn't get to go.' I was like, 'did you get shot? We had totally different experiences. That hurt my heart. There was another white officer who accused me of housing fraud and said I wasn't living with my child.''
Johnson was rescued in April 2003, but by late August, she was severely depressed, suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, and at risk of endangering her relationship with her daughter. She requested a medical discharge.
"I wrote my story to set the record straight,'' she said in the interview. "There is so much out there that happened to me from people who were not there. I just wanted to tell my story and let it be known. I'm not naïve. There are people who will still say that is not what happened, but I know in my heart what is true.''
She is critical of the nation's military efforts in Iraq. "I never understood the politics of what's going into Iraq. I want my fellow soldiers to come home. It's not something I can watch on the news. It's very tender.''
Johnson said she still suffers from the aftereffects of combat. "It's going to be a long, hard road to get better,'' she said. "I take medication. It won't ease up as long as these conflicts are going on in the Middle East. I just have to get over the guilt of living when good people died. It's hard, but each day gets easier.''
'I'm Still Standing' is a riveting piece of black history that should be read for generations. It also is a compelling story of a woman's courage to survive against all odds.

The Black Hebrews of Harlem

The Black Jews of Harlem are a minority ethnic group in New York who first appeared in the early 1900s. By 1930 there were at least four groups of Black Jews in Harlem. The most important of these groups was The Commandment Keepers Holy Church of the Living God. Commandment Keepers' founder, Rabbi Matthew, described the natural link between people of African descent and Judaism which he claimed extended from Abraham through King Solomon of Israel and Queen Sheba of Ethiopia who founded the line of kings who ruled Ethiopia. He affirmed that the “original” Jews were black people, or at least people of non-European descent who inhabited northeastern Africa and the Arabian peninsula. Yet, the Black Jews of Harlem were typically West Indian, East African, or South American in origin.
The specific origins of the Jewish faith among the blacks are obscure. Some observers trace it to West Africa where a number of ethnic groups have customs so similar to Judaism that an ancient connection may have been established. More recently Jewish slaveholders in the Carribbean may have influenced their bondspeople and in isolated situations such as intermarriage or conversions, thus introducing the faith to black West Indians. These Black Jews and their descendants gradually embraced the Orthodox religious and cultural traditions most Jews see as common practice today. By the 1930s Commandment Keepers observed all Jewish holidays, ate only kosher foods, performed bar mitzvahs and circumcisions, and separated men’s and women’s seats at the synagogue with a mechitza. Rabbi Matthew, who recognized that many Jewish traditions were European in origin, tried to incorporate African, Caribbean, and other American traditions into his community with little success.
The existence of the Black Jews of Harlem challenged prevailing ideas about race and religion during this period in which most observers considered blacks and Jews as separate racial categories. Moreover, although most Jews had historically described themselves as a race, by the 1930s, many of the descendants of the 19th Century immigrants from Europe were beginning to claim "white status" and thus refused to accept "black" Jews. White Jews in Harlem often argued that being a Jew had many social and economic challenges of its own without the perceived potential challenge of being associated with black people in a society which embraced white supremacy.
The Black Jews of Harlem were and continue to be a relatively small sect. They were typically poor, and maintained a very marginal status. Their existence consistently called into question the nature of Jewishness, as both white and black Jews defined the Black Jews groups differently, never finding consensus.
Sources:


Howard Brotz, The Black Jews of Harlem: Negro Nationalism and the Dilemmas of Negro Leadership (New York: The Free Press, 1964); Roberta S. Gold, “The Black Jew of Harlem: Representation, Identity, and Race,1920-1939,” American Quarterly 55: 2 (Jun. 2003). JSTOR. Retrieved 2009-03-8; Eric Herschthal, “Decline of A Black Synagogue,” The Jewish Week. (July 2007); http://joi.org/bloglinks/black%20synagogue%20Jewish%20Week.htm; Rabbi Sholomo Ben Levy, “The Black Jewish or Hebrew Israelite Community,” Jewish Virtual Library (The American-Israeli Cooperative Enterprise: 2009), http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Judaism/blackjews.html

No Rain Yet

Boker Tov;
The promised rain hasn't come yet, so after my morning coffee, I am going for my morning walk.
One thing Montana did was get me moving again. The snow got to me. That one day walking in the snow made me realize how much I miss walking.
Since the snow cleared up here, I have been wearing my Montana hoodie (nice, big and roomie, great for walking) walking pants and sneakers and getting out.
Good thing too: I went to the doctors' yesterday and learned I gained five pounds!
To be honest, I did eat more fast food and richer foods in Montana than I'd use to and the lack of activity just didn't help.
My doctor told me no guilt: everyone gain two to five pounds during the winter months, my blood pressure is excellent and the stress on my face is gone. So, she's pleased.
So, with the coffee now brewed, I am off for my morning stretches and then walk.
And who knows, I might even find something worth taking a picture of.
Cheers.

Chilly Evening

It's chilly this evening.
We are to recieve more rain tomorrow and maybe more snow by the end of the week.
I just had a hotdog for supper this evening, not really feeling like I want to eat.
Just waiting for Mark to call.
He says they have indeed recived several inches of snow. We have been praying for it and he got it. The snow is needed for it is a major water supple as well as slows down the Taliban.
We do get to speak about three or four times a week unless he is in the field, checking on the various projects he has going. It is a relief to know that he is well guarded out there as well. Both by fellow soldiers and prayer.
I do believe G-d has His angels around Mark. No, not just Mark. But the Torah makes its clear that G-d does indeed sends His angels and gives them charge over His children.
And what if something happens to Mark? Did G-d blink? Did an angel fall asleep?
No, it was his time.
And knowing our lives are in His care gives me peace.

Going to bed early, with the phone beside me and the book I am reading right now, Amish Peace.. A very good book.
And you don't have to be Amish to partake of the wisdom here.
Evening all.

Don't Know What You've Got Til it's Gone.

It has been a bettersweet two weeks
The day before I came home from Montana, I learned of the passing of a dear friend, a woman who was very much a mum to all who knew her. Nairia had the same stroke my mum had over the summer and never really recovered.
I can still see her beautiful smile, her telling me she was praying for a husband for me and her dancing at our wedding. I remember how we were asked to help with her daughter's wedding. Our singing in the choir and those wondeful rolls she would always bring me.
Sometime, this pass friday, there was another death. I knew his wife better than he, but still it was a shock to us all.
I just read a tribute about what Val wrote about Bill; coming downstairs and seeing his flannel shirt over the chair ans thinking he was still there. Missing the scent of his brewed coffee....those little things.
I have those same moments in our home.
But G-d willing, my husband is coming to me.
Val will soon lay her beloved to rest.
I feel odd complaining about missing my beloved when another woman who just began a widow.
How we take the people in our lives for granted.
I called my mum today and told her I loved her, aware that there are four friends who can't do no longer.
I await Mark's call so I can hear him say "I love you," knowing another woman won't hear those words again this side of heaven.
May we each take a moment to emabrace those we love; for none of us knows what tomorrow will bring.
And to each of you who read this blog, who have deed me the honour of being a friend, I love you and thank you for the gift of your friendship.

Pizza, Coke and Star Trek the Next Gen

Lilai Tov;
Well I hope I shall be forgiven by my football loivng friends.
I will not be watching Super Ball 44 this evening.
I hate football.
Yes, I have gone to SuperBall parties in the past; I just like the food, fun and friends.
But since I hadn't been invited to a party this evening, it is Coke, pizza Star Trek the Next Gen and maybe a movie thrown in for good measure.
I know it is one of the great amercia past times. And I am letting it past by.
So have fun everyone; I hope your team wins and remember; it's just a game.
Until we chat again.

More Snow.

Lilai Tov;
This quiet Shabbat was and still is covered with snow.
I would guess about three incehs. Not enough to for a snow ball fight or and a snow man, but enough to blanket the city.
Which is fine because it was Shabbat and it just added another layer of silence.
It is chilly in the house so I am making coffee.
I happen to be one of those folks who can have coffee in the evening and it doesn't keep me awake. In fact, it helps to relax me.
Right now I am reading a book called Amish Peace.
And you don't have to be Amish to enjoy the book.
It speaks of that simple life that the Amish enjoy and how we can add some of it to our lives.
I see so much of my own life nad upbringing in the book: I can see areas in my life now. It isn't an easy life, but indeed worth it.
There is much to be said about slowing down, not spending beyond our needs, using what we have, not be wasteful
Might not be a bad idea to send our national leaders to live amoung the Amish for a few weeks.

Diary of A Angry Black Woman

Boker Tov:
While visiting my mum over the holidays, we watched Diary of an Angry Black Woman.
Now I have to confess, I had avoided the film because I feared the sterotypes that go along with so many black films.
But I was in for a huge surprise.
First Tyler Perry is a stitch as both grandmother Madea and the loving, suppotive cousin. It is a movie full of anger, laugher, tears, joy, the power of forgivness and hope.
The plot: Helen McCarter ( played byKimberly Elise) and Charles McCarter ( played by Steve Harris) had it all: money, success and a fine home. Helen wants to belive her life is perfect and fears at times, Charles doesn't love her. In public they seemed to tperfect, but it was all far from perfect behind closed doors. Helen is unemployed, having given up her family and friends for her hsuband, who strays, having multiple affairs.
 On their 18th wedding anniversary, Helen wakes up to find all of her belongings packed in a U-Haul truck with Charles kicking her out of the house in the presence of his young mistress - and mother of his two children - Brenda  played by (Lisa Marcos).
 An emotionally destroyed and penniless Helen turns to her sassy and loud grandmother Madea (Tyler Perry,( Which is Helen's mother mother, who Charles had placed in a Nursing Home). Madea takes her in and helps her get back on her feet. Brian (Tyler Perry),] Madea's nephew, acts as Madea and Helen's attorney at court after the two women were caught by Charles and Brenda for breaking into the mansion and vandalizing some of his and Brenda's belongings. (Madea rammed her car into the security gate of Charles' home, cut some of the furniture in half with a chainsaw and the two of them were ripping Brenda's clothes). He also acts as Helen's attorney for her in divorce court and during the court session. It is during this time that Helen begins to grow as a person, releasing her anger and even falling in love with the very man who moved her out of her home. Now able to stand on her own two feet, Helen decides to let Charles keep all the money and property provided he pays Brian's attorney fees and for her mother's ( Madea's daughter) stay in the nursing home (which he forced Helen to put her mother in during their marriage) which Charles happily agrees to do since Helen wants nothing else.
But you can't do folks dirty and get away with it.
Due to Madea being a repeat offender, Judge Mablean Ephriam places her under house arrest and set a $5,000 bond for Helen. Brian himself had some marital problems at home with his wife's (Debrah)(Tamara Taylor)  drug habits and addiction and kicks her out of the house after the last straw. Helen soon learns to grow through her pain, and is ready to move on from Charles and give love another chance with Orlando (Shemar Moore). Meanwhile, Charles is coerced by Jamison Milton Jackson (Gary Anthony Sturgisto) to be his attorney and possibly bribe the judge in his favor for his upcoming trial for shooting an undercover cop during a drug deal
Charles ends up losing the case when the jurors find Jamison guilty at the trial. As a disgruntled Jamison is being led out of the courtroom by the bailiff, he takes the bailiff's gun and ends up shooting Charles. Once Helen finds out about Charles on the news, she races over to the hospital with Brian (the two run into Brenda) and the doctor informs them that Charles was shot in the spine and could be paralyzed for life. Since Helen still was legally married to Charles, she was able to have Charles resuscitated, while Brenda couldn't (as the fiancee) and wanted the opposite.
After several torture tactics, Helen ends up tending to Charles as he recovered and as it turned out, she was the only one there for him. Brenda left him since she didn't want to take care of him and only wanted his money along with their maid Christina (after Brenda took all of Charles' money and had left none to pay her) and Charles' friends abandoned him. Helen at first bursts into rage and gets even with Charles, but then she ends up forgiving him and moving on. Charles ends up changing for the better, apologizing to Helen and realizing the error of his ways. Despite the doctor's prediction, he ends up being able to walk again (with a cane) after many visits in physical therapy. At church, while everyone witnesses Charles walk for the first time (with his cane), along with a newly clean and sober Deborah fresh from rehab. During a family dinner, Helen gives Charles the signed divorce papers, leaves the table to go to Orlando and finally gets her man in the end.
As long as Helen remained angry, the only person she hurt was herself. Unforgivness is what hardens the heart and keeps us imprisoned. Forgivness isn't just for the person's sake, but our own. It isn't just time that heals, but love.
Tyler Perry's movie was about love, forgivness and hope, the need of family love and support.. And yes, because he is a believer, faith.
Keep writing Tyler.

Boy, Did I Get letters :)

Boker Tov;
Well yesterday's entry hit a nerve.
A few folks left notes on my commnets, iniforming I was was wrong about the tea bagger slur, while others, who while didn't leave comments (I understand why) wrote me and told me I was quite correct.
Which gives me a giggle.
But the matter point about the entry wasn't about tea bags, but about someone I call friend. Someone who likes me, not because of who I am, but inspite of who I am. There are people who I have shared the faith, valves and if there is a disagreement, they have dropped me by The Biggest Loser drops pounds.
But a few days ago, Beth wrote me and there was something in her letter that gave me pause.
"Isn't blogging suppose to be fun?"
That's why I'd dropped a few myself. I find myself tired and stressed out from reading several and one just made me downright depress. And with Mark away, I don't need help. That's the purpose of LoveFromIraq blog, to get those feelings out.
So thanks for the letters; they were interesting to be sure.
And I shall work on getting the 'fun' bck into this blog.
But you are going to get history lessons this month: no getting around that.

A Tea Bagger?

Shalom:
I just read an interesting entry on my friend Beth's blog.
Somehow this dear lady remains friends with me and I rather like her.
Yes, we have different views on many subjects. She supports Mr. Obama. I think he's the worst president since Mr. Carter. I love Sarah Palin and the very name makes Beth ill.
And yet, we can read each other's blogs, leave comments and remain friends.
That's how adults act; on the those things they agree, cool. On those things they don't, they agree to disagree.
My only suggestion is dropping the word "tea bagger." A cousin of my told me that the phrase is in England a vile slur concerning someone who is gay. Liken to the N-word or when the Romans and Nazis used Jew as the word for dog.
Not very nice.
I love you Beth, you do keep me on my toes.

A Jew With A View: Snow in Virginia

A Jew With A View: Snow in Virginia

As I stated in an earlier Blog, we got hit with a snow storm  over the weekend. So, I came home to over eight inches of snow and most of Norfolk and the surrounding cites shut down. No school for three days. So I pulled out the lamb stew I froze just before I left and slept in for a few days.
But as of today, most of the white stuff is gone the sun is once again shining.

Black History is Our History

Boker Tov:
I still remember the first time I celebrated Black History. I was in the sixth grade and it was Black History week. Up until this time I went to mostly white schools and black history wasn't taught there. It was only in the black and inner cities schools at the time.
Thankful, things have changed.
Up until then,  I didn't have a clear picture of how we as a people got here or what part we played in the building of America.
But then in sixth grade, that changed. I learned about Africa, slavery, and how we truly part of this country. I remember one teacher asking us to ask question of our families, because there is where much of the story laid.
I didn't learn a lot. It wasn't until I began researching my own family tree that I could get a better picture of the tapestry.
But I did learn that my grandfathers and uncles fought in the Spanish-American war, World Wars I and II, cousins who fought in Nam and later the Gulf war. That my great-grandfathers were farmers and that is where we get our green thumbs from.
My great-grandmother was a needleworker. A skill she passed onto my grandmother and she to her daughters. Mummie could sew, but didn't like to. But she would help me in my home ed classes. Aunt Lucille had three boys, but made my sister and my Sabbath dresses. And today, the worst sewing student in the whole school (me) is now a needleworker.
My sixth grade teacher was right: how often we look for heroes amoung the massives-Martin Luther King, George Washington Carver, etc., when they are really right there in the circle of our family.

Adjustments

A nearby park: yes, we had real snow in Virginia.
Boker Tov:

I arrived home from Montana Sunday evening after a long day of traveling. It has taken a few days to get caught up on my rest (nothing like sleeping in your own bed) and unpack. But I am still not adjusted to life back here in Norfolk.
Not don't get me wrong, I love my home, my neighorhood.
But I am use to looking out of the window and seeing mountains, not a redbrick buiding. I am use to seeing few cars on the road and not hearing traffic sounds. A night sky so crisp and clear you can touch the moon.  I miss the wolves, the dogs and chasing Maytag the cat out of my slippers.
It is an adjustment to being alone once again.
But I'll get there.

A Note From My cousin

Lialia Tov:

My cousin Carson left such a wonderful comment, I decided to make it an blog entry:

Hey to all that posted comments. This is Carson Lani's cousin. Kithiii is a wolf but she is arctic. They only get 29" at the shoulder and are more sleek and smaller than their timber relatives. The reason she is so docile is because of a strict training regime, and also lots of love.It's like any animal: it is all how the are raised and cared for.Thank you all for the comments. and the babies are called cubs! Just to let you know. :)

I Love A Man In Uniform; A Book Review

Boker Tov:
This book review is long overdue.
I Love A Man In Uniform was written by Lily Burana.
A memoir of love, war and other battles indeed.
 It was a book given to me by a friend last year. Right after Mark left for Afghanistan, I began to read it
It isn't a fluffy piece filled with mum and apple pie and how honoured you should be to let Uncle Sam take your man for months on end, just put your big girl panties on and deal with it. But a fresh, raw, honest look at what we as military wives go through. The ups and downs, the highs and lows, even the lost of friends who can't deal with your raw nerves.
 I could well relate to Lily; going up a bit of a rebel ( Lily was full blown), our relationships with our men centered around the war; she and Mike were married just before his deployment. Mark and I were seeing where we were going in our relationship. Our guys were there in Iraq at the same time, though Mark was there longer. There was an reajustment period when they came home and even a chance the relationships could end.
Lily and I have gone through similiar battles and have come out the victor. While as different as night and day, I found a kinship that helped me deal with Mark's deployment. I learned not only how to, but now can utter the words "embrace the suck." This comes from the guys who had to be in Iraq over a year, stating this sucks. And a CO is quoted as 'embrace the suck."
Yes, I am aware that a nice frum like me shouldn't use phrases like that, but frankly, sometimes those are the very phrases that are the most honest.
So, I shall say, this sticks.
I highly recommend I Love A Man in Iniform, not just for those who loved ones deployed or about to be send over. But for those who have family and friends who have one side of the bed empty, someone missing at the supper table and you quite can't understand why girlfriend is so touchy, so sensitive, maybe you can understand us just alittle better.
Love you, Lily.
And I am happy to say, after finding out she was on facebook, I was honoured that she accepted this frum as a friend. I am hoping one day when Mark takes me to Westpoint to visit, I shall get to meet Lily and her husband Mike.

Black History Month

Boker Tov:
Today is the second day of Black History month.
Frankly, as strange as this may sound, I wish we didn't have BHM, but it is needful. For when a people forget who they are, they are not longer a people.
The African American is a huge part of this nation's history. We helped to build this nation, we are americans.
And yet there are people who would sill deny our place in history, in this country. Who would frankly prefer us back in chains, riding the back of the bus and cleaning the Oval office instead of filling its chair.
We have come a long way baby, but we still have a long way to go.
I am not one to blame 'the white man' for everything that is wrong in our community. As Mr.Cosby himself has said, "Come On, People!" Mr. Cosby has spoken truths we have not wished to face, but needed to be said.
My mother, who will be 76 years old in a few weeks always told my sister and I when we were younger:
"there will always be people out there who hate you because you are a child of colour, because of your faith, because you are a girl, bceause of all three. There will be those who think you aren't as smart, clever or skilled. You will have to work twice as hard to be just as good. No, that isn't fair, life isn't fair. But G-d is good and in the end, goodness wins out all the time. Don't allow their hate to keep you down or harden your heart. Don't hate them, pity them. For they know not G-d's love.
"At the same time, do not allow yourself to be used or abused. You are not a doormat. If someone doesn't wish to be your friend, shake the dust off your feet and move on."
Black History Month isn't just for African Americans, but for all Amercicans, for it is our history.

Laini and The Wolf

Boker Tov;

As promised, today I am adding pictures. And no Marty, I didn't have a Red Riding Hood :)

This is one of the wolves, Kiltiii, with my uncle. Beautiful isn't she? She's expecting cubs and likes having her tummy rubbed.

"Look up, Laini." Yes this is me with the wolf. She's waiting for a piece of cheese..

We have to have a talk about modesty. Kiltiii has none what so ever.

Down From the Mountain.

Boker Tov;
It has been a busy few days.
Friday, Jaylene needed to go to the dentist, so Angela and I (she's married to Jaylene' brother Carson) hung out together. Uncle Jim loan me his massger the other evening when I had a muscle cramp and told me where I could get it (Walmart of course)
So that is where we headed, as well as picking up a few things for Aunt Michael. Then we picked up supper and Jaylene.
Afterwards, I got to meet Mark's Aunt Jane and family. Aunt Michael, Aunt Jane and Dad Reel are what is left of the Reel siblings.
Aunt Jane is the youngest and the most like dad Reel. Cousin Kim and Mark grew up together so it was a joy to meet her and her family as well.
I love being part of this family. Not perfect to be sure, a very loving, caring family.
It is hard to find ones own space in this group: I had to take a walk in the snow. But really, I do love being part of this wonderful family I married to. While we were gone, my mum called the house and spoke to Aunt Michael. She called to warn me I was leaving snow and flying into snow.
Oh goody.

Saturday was a day of mixed feelings. It was nice and quiet since the guys had fire fighting training and we girls got to sleep in late. But it was also my last day with the fmaily.
I called Dad Reel to let him know that there was a change in my itinerary a few days ago and learned they had recieved eight inches of snow and it was still falling.
Which meant I had to take a cab home.

So, early Sunday morning we were off to Helena for the Airport. I confess, I hated leaving. The love, support and frankly peace I found here was exactly what my soul needed. I needed to be able to openly speak out my fears, to get hugs when I was low and Uncle Jim making me laugh when I started to slide into a depression. To play with the wolves and even walk through a tiny town in the snow.

I arrived in Norfolk about 7pm last night. But what took so long was waiting for the luggage and waiting for a cab. The airport had about 30 cabs running and it was a matter of just waiting your turn. What made me (and others) angry was there was a group of soldiers arriving for a brief stop before heading off to Fort Bragg, including gear. There was a van cab that pulled up and the Secuity Guard offered the cab to the soldiers. No one had a problem with that. But the cab driver refused to take them. Her excuse: they weren't first in line. She tried to side step the Guard and get other folks into her cab, but to everyone's credit, they refused. No one else had a problem with the soldiers going first and it wasn't them insisting for special favortie, but the Guard who wanted to keep the group together.
 The police had to be called in and finally she took three of the soldiers and their gear and the other three followed in another cab.
After two hours, I finally made it home to my nice, very warm apartment. After letting everyone know I was home and safe, I made a cup of tea and headed off to my own bed.
Next my entry, pictures.