Where Did We Go Wrong?

A year or so ago, I heard about a program called PJ Library, a pretty amazing endowment that sends a brand new book -- for free -- to Jewish children every month. Amazingly, it's in a number of states around the country, and we were lucky to be selected to participate.

In today's mail was the monthly book, And Shira Imagined, about a little girl who travels with her parents to Israel. While there they visit a number of places, including a kibbutz. While Lily could easily grasp the concept of a modern city (Tel Aviv) versus a biblical one (Jerusalem), she had a hard time coming to terms with the concept of a kibbutz.

On Passover eve, I tried to explain. Using things more familiar to her.

"So Lily, pretend that I'm the cook for our entire neighborhood. When people want to eat, they come to our house," I started.

"And say that our next door neighbor, Bob, is the fruit man for the entire neighborhood. He grows fruit, and when anyone wants some, they just go to Bob's house," I continued.

"We all work together. We share. We help each other out. We're a team. Do you understand?" I asked.

"Sure!" said Lily. "Like if Daddy were the tree grower for everyone. When they wanted a Christmas tree, they'd get one from Daddy."

And this coming from the little girl who, two years ago, asked if she could sit on Santa's lap as her Hanukkah present.