[Last weekend my daughter was off enjoying the annual Ulster County Fair. It reminded me of this story from several years ago. Enjoy, and Shabbat Shalom! -JK]
In July, I visited the Ulster County Fair with my family. Nomi had her good friend Ana along, and the two 9-year-olds were sampling the midway. After surviving some of the milder rides, Ana suggested we try a gigantic swinging contraption deceptively named the “Dreamcatcher.” It should have been called “The Stuff of Nightmares,” but I am getting ahead of myself. Wanting to be an accommodating host (I have no idea what got into me), I offered to go on the ride with her. After a thirty-minute wait, we climbed aboard, strapped ourselves in, and began to ascend in ever greater and faster swinging arcs. Suffice to say that I am never going to voluntarily ride the Dreamcatcher again.
As we staggered off the ride I was worrying that Ana’s parents would never trust me with their daughter again, so I turned to her and asked, in as cheery a tone as I could fake, “Well, Ana, are you glad you went on that ride?” And although Ana was quivering a bit herself, she replied with genuine enthusiasm, “Yes, because now I have a story to tell!”Read More