Chapter 1: SHAVUA TOV!
God's Little Drop of Water
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It was a balmy Saturday evening in 1978. The evening of Shabbat. The Sabbath. And all around the state of Israel, families were enjoying their evening meal and preparing for the beginning of a brand new week, with the utterance of “Shavua tov!”, or “Good week!” A lovely blessing, indeed. Unlike in many other parts of the world, in Israel, Sunday is a work day, the first of a new week. Which of course means that children must attend school that day.
Such was the case for seven-year-old Taliya, who sat alone at the dinner table while her father, Daniel, washed the dishes. Taliya’s mother, Mazal, who was a schoolteacher, sat at her desk, putting the finishing touches on her lesson plans. Tomorrow was the first day of a new school year, and Mazal wanted everything to be perfect. Education, knowledge, and learning were held in the highest regard in Israel. And that certainly held true within Taliya’s family.
Taliya’s two younger brothers, Yair, who was six, and Yaron, who was five, were perched on the sofa, watching television on the small black-and-white TV set.
“Taliya?” Mazal called from her desk, where she was surrounded by papers.
“Yes, Ima?” Taliya replied.
“Are you sure you know where to take Yaroni for school in the morning?”
“Yes.” Taliya used her fork to push the remainder of her food about her plate. There was a large morsel of grey meat. Taliya did not care for meat. “I’m not going to school tomorrow,” Taliya announced for whomever cared to listen.
“Of course you are,” said Ima, who was very focused on her lesson plans, in which she took great pride.
Abba glanced over his shoulder as he scrubbed clean a dinner plate. “You’re not going to school tomorrow?”
“No,” Taliya replied, casually so as not to arouse suspicion.
“Why not?” asked Abba. “It’s a brand new school year. With a new classroom and a new teacher and new friends. Don’t you want to go to school?”
“No.” Taliya was terse in her reply as she surreptitiously hid the hunk of meat beneath her green beans. “I already know everything.”
“You already know everything?” Abba asked, quite impressed.
“Yes. I’ve already read all of my school books.”
“When did you do that?” Abba asked.
“Over the summer. So I already know everything.”
“That’s good,” said Abba. “You’ll do very well.”
“I don’t like my teacher.”
“It’s a new year,” said Abba, rinsing the plate, “you don’t know your teacher.”
“Yes, I do,” Taliya explained carefully. “My friend Tamar’s older brother Dov had the same teacher two years ago and he said she’s mean.”
“Maybe Dov didn’t work as hard as he should’ve, so school was more difficult for him,” said Abba. “He didn’t like being there so he told everyone the teacher was mean as a way of absolving himself of responsibility for learning and getting good grades so he could grow up and get a good job to support his family.”
“What’s absolve mean?”
Abba dried his hands on a towel. “It means he wanted to blame his teacher for his problems. Eat your dinner.”
“I don’t like it.” The strange meat had been hidden beneath the green beans. But Taliya knew it was still there.
“That is very good meat,” Ima called from her desk. “I got it directly from the butcher. It was very expensive.”
Yairi came into the kitchen. “It was very expensive.” He fetched himself a piece of chocolate from the refrigerator.
“I want chocolate,” declared Taliya.
“Finish your dinner and you can have chocolate,” said Abba. “Two pieces.”
Girding herself, Taliya quickly ate the green beans. With equal measures of resolve and disgust, she put the meat in her mouth and pretended to chew.
“Good girl.” Abba took her now-empty plate to the sink and washed it. Taliya casually left the table and walked quickly to the laundry room. But not too quickly. Once there, she spat the meat into her hand and tossed it behind the washing machine.
Taliya returned to the kitchen and fetched some chocolate for herself from the refrigerator. Two pieces.
Read next chapter:
I see some of my daughter in Taliya (especially the spitting it out)