Post 4: The Unknown Soldier (page 274)

            I'm not quite sure what this story is about, and I think that's the way it's supposed to be. I both liked and disliked this passage. Each paragraph has a theme of it’s own and they tell a story in themselves. Each sentence is like a story of it’s own. You can link sentences in each paragraph to ones in the previous. This is a unique style of writing that makes you really wonder what’s going on. You never really find out because you have too many contradicting answers to choose from.

This story was very difficult to follow because it really didn’t make much sense. The subject and story changed in every sentence, which made it nearly impossible to understand. To follow the story, you can’t follow the direct information; you have to follow the theme of each paragraph. For example, in the first paragraph, it has a series of sentences starting with “The last thing I saw was…” This implies that the man is dying. So, that would be your first theme and the first piece of the story. At least, this is what I tried to do to follow the story (and it still didn’t work very well).

One thing I did like about this story, however, was how it made you want to keep reading. Since it jumped around so much, you wanted to see if it ever came to an end. You wanted to see if it ever resolved or started to make sense at one point or another. (It never did.) But it did leave a lot of room for imagination.

That’s one thing I would change about this story if I were the one writing it: I’d have a solid resolution. The point of a story is to tell the reader a story. If the reader can’t follow what you’re telling them, there’s not really much of a story.

Post 3: The Tefillin that Ties us Together

The shel yad. The box pointing towards your heart, the prayer pointing towards your heart, wrap it around the top of your left arm. Wrap tightly. Tightly enough so that it leaves an imprint when you take it off. Now wrap it. Two times on the upper part of your arm. Now move to the forearm. Wrap. Seven times around. Only seven. Whisper the prayer as you count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Wrap it around your hand and hold it. For now, just hold it.


         My family moved to the United States three to four generations ago. We lived in mostly Russia and some in Germany and Hungary. We got out before things got bad. Before World War II, before the Holocaust really got bad, we got out. That's why we're still here.
         But this move did not come without consequence. Names were changed. Friends were lost. Family. Lost. The immigration officials changed our names. But they could not change who we were. And no one can change who we are now.


The shel rosh. Out of the bag it comes. The smell of old leather fills the air. Remove the casing and unwrap. State the prayer, kiss, and place. On your head. The box resting gently and lightly on your forehead. The prayer silently sleeping inside. The straps trail down your shoulders. Always a reminder above your eyes.


         My name is Hadassah Michal Lipnick. His name is Jesse August Lipnick. Her name is Corinne Elise Lipnick. But they are not. Not really. He is not Jesse August Lipnick; he is Yishai Ari ben Baruch v'Chaya Tova. She is Not Corinne Elise Lipnick; she is Tzipporah bat Patiel v'Feina Surra. And I am not Hadassah Michal Lipnick; I am Hadassah Michal bat Yishai Ari v'Tzipporah.
         Our family goes back generations and generations. On and on. So do our names. We can never run away from our culture. We can never run away from our heritage. It is embedded in our names. It is embedded in our lives. It helps define who we are. It is part of our pride. It simply is who we are.
         My brother and I are the most recent generation in our family. We have begun to abandon out religion. Begun to ignore our heritage, our culture. Camp reels me back in. Unfortunately, I fear that there is nothing left to keep him with us anymore, at least in that sense.


The shel yad. Back to your hand. Only unwrap what is there. What's on your arm does not change. Wrap around the back of your hand and through the center of your palm once. The beginning of the shin. Over your ring finger and around your middle finger. Now around just your middle finger. Daled. One more time, around your middle finger. Yud. Back over your ring finger and around the bottom of your hand. Wrap once more around the back of your hand. In the center. The end of the shin. Wrap until the strap runs out. Done.
Look. Shin daled yud: Shadai, one of the names of God. This is holy. This is given to us and commanded unto us:
"You shall bind them as a sign upon your hand, and they shall be a reminder above your eyes."


Kippah on your head. Tallit around your back. Shel yad at your heart. Shel rosh above your eyes. Bend. Bow. And up again. Pray. This is the tefillin that ties us together.

.שמע ישראל יהוה אלהינו יהוה אחד

"Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is One."