On Sunday morning I tried to wake up a strange boy and take him to a bar mitzvah lesson. I thought it was Yosef since the boy was African or African-American and was sleeping in Yosef’s bed.
It was early, and dark, and the shades were drawn, so I couldn’t be certain. Several times I reached out, then hesitated. The boy’s Afro gave me pause, since Yosef’s hair was close-shaved the last time I checked. In search of someone more closely resembling Yosef, I made a quick circuit of the many dens and bedrooms where children can be found on Sunday mornings. Daniel was in his own bed and Sol was in his own bed. Camped out in Sol’s room were Austin, a white boy; Josiah, a Liberian boy; and Grace, from Congo. Jesse was in Lee’s bed since Lee was in Israel, and three of Jesse’s friends (one black, two white) slept on sofas nearby. But no Yosef. On the main floor of the house, I found Helen snuggled in a sleeping bag on a sofa, where she’d fallen asleep watching a movie.
Helen on the sofa? This gave me an important clue!
Upstairs, in Helen’s bed, I found Yosef! I woke him up for his bar mitzvah lesson.
Later that day in the kitchen, I discovered a strange boy enjoying a bowl of Froot Loops.
“Who are you?”
“Sammi,” he said shyly.
“Where are you from?”
“Eritrea.”
“Did I try to wake you up for a bar mitzvah lesson this morning?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I bet you’re not even Jewish.”
“No ma’am. Muslim.”
“Okay then. Well, sorry.”
“That is okay,” he said politely. “I did not mind.”
Eli says
Lovely home! Lovely visitors!