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It’s Saturday night at 10:30.
As usual, the night before a Hebrew school night, I’m taking it easy,
watching a little tv with my husband before an early bedtime so I can get up at
the crack of dawn on Sunday morning (on the only day of the week when I have
to).
I say we’re watching tv, but the truth is, he is. I’m actually on my laptop, furiously
scrolling through iTunes, and my humongous library, using key words like “tree," “planting,” “garden,” and so on. Tomorrow
is our first Bagels & Blox program and the theme is Tu B’Shevat, the Jewish holiday of the trees. I want some
background music for our planting activity.
This program has been in the works since I was hired last
June. It’s designed to be an inclusive parent
(or grandparent) and child program that introduces your young one to Judaism in
a joyful, musical, movement-filled way.
I will co-lead this precious program with the Rabbi and the plan is that we'll work together, building on each other’s’ strengths, engaging both parents
and children. We also hope to build a
community for the parents, grow our school, and by extension grow the two
synagogues that feed into our school.
But that’s looking too far ahead.
Right now I just want to put together a seamless 45 minutes program for the four
children and their parents who signed up for our first session.
In the middle of the night, I wake up and realize that two of
our four children have already done the planting activity, when they attended
the Tu B’Shevat Seder last Sunday with their older siblings. Somehow in my half sleep, my brain creates an
alternate idea, that would not require any shopping at 7:00 am on a Sunday. I fall back to sleep, dreaming of juice boxes
and alef-bet songs.
Finally the moment is here.
I get to the synagogue early and set everything up. The children arrive, and three of them are
waiting, not very patiently, in the lobby. Little Billy is 2 ½ and he’s used to being here. He’s a barrel of energy, with white blond
curls, and unlikely to stay in one place for more than a few seconds. He’s all smiles, as usual this morning. Looks like it Mommy’s turn to wrangle him
today. And sweet shy Kaitlyn. She and I are buddies, because
her older brother also attends our school. She usually likes to show me her
shoes, which are typically quite stylish.
She’s attending with her mom and dad today, and so far, is sticking
pretty close to them. She’s 4 and she
loves arts and crafts. Ali arrives and
is excited but nervous. She’s clutching
on to her daddy, but curious to see what’s going on. She comes in to the social hall to see what’s
what. I show her what I’m setting up.
“When I start that music that means it’s time to start, okay, Ali? Then
you can come in.” I get a big smile from her.
She goes into the lobby, and I see her warming up to Kaitlyn and
watching Billy zooming around.
The Rabbi finishes cutting up the bagels and setting up the
coffee, and juice boxes and it’s nearly 10:15. He opens
the back door, so Sage’s mom won’t have trouble getting her wheelchair up the
ramp. We both do a final check. Craft materials are set, toys are near the
play mat, music is cued, snacks are ready.
It’s 10:14 am. I hit play and we
say to the families, "come on in!"
We give them name tags and welcome them to the foam mat where we
will start and finish our morning. Sage
and her mom arrive just then and join us.
Sage is bigger than the others, and not verbal, but is very present and
very happy to be there. Her mom helps
her out of her wheelchair and into the circle. Kaitlyn and Billy barely
notice. Ali sensitively asks her daddy
if Sage’s legs got hurt. “They just
don’t work very well,” he answers. After
that it’s all about Tu B’Shevat, being together, and having fun.
We begin with a welcome song, and then do a movement exercise
led by the Rabbi. I hear him say "pretend you are a seed" and a round of giggles follows. They sing another song for Tu
B’Shevat and it’s time to move to the art table to make trees. I put on the music, explain the idea, and
each child finds a way to enjoy the project.
Sage takes great delight in feeling the tissue paper crunch and crumble
in her hands. Though she cannot tell me with words, already I can tell she is “calling” me
over, and I come right away to be near her. Ali and her dad carefully make a pattern of colors
and name them, they take their time, meticulously gluing the tissue paper buds
to the branches. Billy and I break
sticks for the others, I show him how to hold his hands close together to break
the wider twigs, and he feels super strong; meanwhile Billy’s mom does the
project in a zen-like way. And Kaitlyn becomes completely absorbed by the
project, so deeply, we have to tear her away when it’s time for bagels. The Rabbi, who was taking pictures, has
stopped to make his own branch and is making a mess with the glue and having a
great time with the families.
During snack, the Rabbi and I give each other a look. Yes.
It’s good. We are both full of
joy. These are the seeds we are planting
now, right now on Tu B’Shevat. The seeds
of joy, love of Judaism, kindness toward others, community. These children will know their Rabbi and
Educator and remember us from sitting on the floor and from glueing tissue
paper to a stick, and not just from far away on the bima or (worse) sitting in
an office writing programs on a computer.
As our program comes to an end, we teach them Shalom
Chaverim. Peace friends, until we see
you again.
L’hitraot!
If you would like to learn more about our B'Yachad program, or our Religious School, located in Pompton Lakes, NJ. Please check out our website: B'Yachad School.
