![\"34859163_10216128930234174_6479553323929174016_o\"](\"http:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/blissblog\/files\/2018\/06\/34859163_10216128930234174_6479553323929174016_o.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\nI love to ponder the thread that connects people and events. Roll back the clock to 1972. Sitting on a wooden slatted bench, painted blue if memory serves, two chlorinated, sun-burned latex bathing-suited\u00a014-year-olds struck up a conversation. Swimming on “two different teams together,” according to one of them, that chat (I don’t even recall what words were spoken) evolved into a 45-year friendship. Barb and I grew up in the South Jersey town of Willingboro, NJ and were competitive swimmers. Our community was comprised of\u00a0nine neighborhoods and each one had their own swim team. She swam for Country Club and I swam for Pennypacker. Friendly competition ensued. What I do remember were countless hours of exploring life, the Universe and everything as only teenagers can. We listened to musicals and Barb acted in many. She grew up in a Polish Catholic family and I grew up in a Russian Jewish family. We shared holidays (Christmas and Easter at her house and Passover and Chanukkah at mine). I went to public school and she went to Catholic school. She was my parents ‘third daughter’. My father called her ‘Barbie Doll’.\u00a0 Since I find that life has a sense of humor, when she met the love of her life, his name was Glenn Cohen (a nice Jewish boy). They married and when they became parents, they raised their kids in the Jewish religion. Years later, Barb converted to Judaism.<\/p>\n
Each child (Alex, Blake, Cady and now Dara…my mom called them the A B C D kids) stood at the bimah (the altar) at their synagogue and became a Bar or Bat Mitzvah. Today was Dara’s turn. This well rounded, intelligent, creative, athletic kiddo crossed the threshold of adulthood in the Jewish religion as she helped lead the service, read from the Torah and recited the Haftarah<\/a>. She donned the ritual prayer shawl known as a tallis<\/a> (Hebrew pronunciation ‘tallit’) that her grandmother made for her as she had for her two older sisters. Her parents offered their blessing for her and of course, cried. They definitely weren’t alone.<\/p>\n During the service Alex, Blake and Cady read this poem. Of course, I teared\u00a0up since it speaks so powerfully to what children all over the world face. The disgraceful part is that those who are supposed to protect children are the monsters spoken about here. Our own government is abusing children with their horrific policies. My friends have raised their kiddos to be socially conscious.<\/p>\n We Pray for Children<\/p>\n We pray for children And we pray, for those We pray for children And we pray for those We pray for children And we pray for those We pray for children We pray for children. Amen<\/p>\n from We Pray for Children, 1995, William Morrow publishers<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
\nwho sneak popsicles before supper,
\nwho erase holes in math workbooks,
\nwho can never find their shoes.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nwho stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
\nwho can’t bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
\nwho never “counted potatoes,”
\nwho are born in places where we wouldn’t be caught dead,
\nwho never go to the circus,
\nwho live in an X-rated world.<\/p>\n
\nwho bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
\nWho sleep with the cat and bury goldfish,
\nWho hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,
\nWho squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,
\nWho slurp their soup.<\/p>\n
\nwho never get dessert,
\nwho have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
\nwho watch their parents watch them die,
\nwho can’t find any bread to steal,
\nwho don’t have any rooms to clean up,
\nwhose pictures aren’t on anybody’s dresser,
\nwhose monsters are real.<\/p>\n
\nwho spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
\nwho throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
\nwho like ghost stories,
\nwho shove dirty clothes under the bed,
\nand never rinse out the tub,
\nwho get visits from the tooth fairy,
\nwho don’t like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
\nwho squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,
\nwhose tears we sometimes laugh at
\nand whose smiles can make us cry.<\/p>\n
\nwhose nightmares come in the daytime,
\nwho will eat anything,
\nwho have never seen a dentist,
\nwho aren’t spoiled by anybody,
\nwho go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
\nwho live and move, but have no being.<\/p>\n
\nwho want to be carried
\nand for those who must,
\nfor those we never give up on
\nand for those who don’t get a second chance.
\nFor those we smother\u2026
\nand for those who will grab the hand of anybody
\nkind enough to offer it.<\/p>\n