Welcome to Shalom Magazine - Massachusetts
By Susie Davidson Contributing Editor Tradition. Tevye shouted about it. The unlikeliest of people return to it. We find ourselves improving upon it, but only to an extent. Truth be told, we love it, and it’s easy to see why. Our customs, rituals and practices bring us back to more innocent and less complex times spent with childhood friends, dear departed relatives, and the comforts of home, without the worries of paying for it. We lovingly recall loud and crazy family gatherings featuring the same foods and recipes every year, and long, sweaty walks to and from shul, where we sat in itchy clothing and tight shoes and schvitzed, turning the pages and counting them at the same time. We nodded and said hello to our non-Jewish townspeople along the way up and back, feeling a little strange and very guilty because we weren’t in school. We thought about all the terrible sins we’d committed, starved and anticipated having pancakes after sundown (at least my family did), and listened to our elders telling us that sacrifice was good, that we do all this because we are Jews, and that we should be happy we live in such a great country and don’t have to worry about invasions, or pogroms, or persecution. We did it all, complaining all the way.
