biblical tales



I grew up across the street from a synagogue. Every Saturday the street was crowded with station wagons. Sometimes, my parents couldn't even get out of the drive way. They cursed these Jews who thought they owned the street. But they cursed a lot of people in Brooklyn who thought they owned the street. The Italians. Then the Russians. The Cops.

I grew to be tolerant of a lot of religions. Some of them felt less religious than others. Especially the one where girls in uniform hiked up their green plaid skirts higher and unbuttoned their white shirts a notch or two after school.

There was no detection of religion in my home. Unless you counted Dad's reverence for playing mahjong and smoking with his friends. My mother thought it was all nonsense.

I searched for benevolent gods. I wished on stars like Pinocchio taught me.

When I grew up, I found wisdom and kindness in the people I met. That is where my spirituality lies.

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