In response to this post, Star writes:"Why do you cover your hair? What possible purpose does that serve? Didn't God give women beautiful hair to show it off? I cannot believe he intended it to be hidden under a scarf all day. How ridiculous! No, you are hiding, hiding from reality. You are hiding from the attentions of men and that is not normal to me, at any rate. Women are the flowers of the field. They should be seen and admired, not hidden away.
Some day, when you are old and grey and your hair is thin and wispy, you will wish that it grew long and thick and glossy again and that all the world could see it."I already responded in the comments, but very briefly, as time didn't allow at that moment. For those who are curious about hair covering, I suggest you read my post on the subject. Beauty is one of the gifts the Almighty graciously gave us, and like every gift, it was not meant to "go to waste". Also, like every other gift He chose fit to give us, beauty must be used wisely. My hair is meant to be seen, but now that I am married, it is intended for my husband alone, and I happily cover it out of modesty and as a sign of being a married woman. At home, I leave my hair uncovered for my husband to enjoy, and now that it isn't exposed to direct sunlight, it looks even better than before. Why would I want any man but my husband to look at me and find me beautiful? What purpose would that serve, except perhaps making another man covet his brother's wife? I don't believe women should be hidden, unseen and unheard, all the days of their life. But together with the gift of beauty, we were graciously given the guidelines of modesty, which are a preventive measure against leading men into sin and women into vanity. I hardly believe that when I grow older, I will regret not showing off the more beautiful parts of my body to strangers. What I do regret right now are the years when I didn't yet observe the Orthodox Jewish modesty code. From time to time, an ex-classmate tags a photo of me on Facebook and I cringe when I see it. I understand, of course, that those years had to happen for a reason, and I am grateful for the lessons I learned. Particularly about the wise application of feminine powers. In my eyes, women are not flowers of the field, but rather, flowers of a secret garden, meant to be kept and cherished, not ogled by every passer-by; as it says in the Song of Songs: "You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride; you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain."
I wish I had a picture of this bread after it was baked - it was so delicious. But as we were in a hurry before Shabbat, I didn't have time to take a picture to share with you all. Perhaps next time, as I'm sure we'll be making this bread again. Adding fried spiced onions was my husband's idea and it was the yummiest bread I have ever tasted. We got the recipe from here (in Hebrew):
Another book I received as a gift not long ago is "A Veil of Roses", by Laura Fitzgerald. It tells the story of Tamila, a young Iranian woman who gets a visa to the USA and plans to stay there through the means of finding a traditional Iranian husband to marry her. There is a lot of talk in the book about the oppression of Iran vs. the liberty of America; as it appears, liberty is in walking around with one's hair uncovered, wearing a bikini at a mixed beach, and free mixing of men and women. I had to laugh at times while I read, because so many of the freedoms that are portrayed in such a glorious way in the book, are precisely things I choose not to do, even though I could.I cover my hair, even though no one would look twice if I didn't. I don't go to mixed beaches, even though it is perfectly legal. I embrace a multitude of "restrictions" which come with the life of an Orthodox Jewish woman, and I'm happy with my choices. I suppose this is the key word here. These are my choices. No one came and forced a head scarf on my hair, or made me stop shaking hands with men.Another thing I found funny in the book was an idolization of romantic love as a basis for a good marriage. You know, after reading so many stories that start with sweep-me-off-my-feet romance and end with marriage, I would dearly love to know what becomes of those marriages after a few years. Oh wait, I do know: at least half of them fall apart. Don't get me wrong, I don't believe in marriages based purely on calculated convenience. But I do believe there's more to compatibility in marriage than just romance. After reading "A Veil of Roses", I asked my husband whether he would like an Orthodox Jewish regime in Israel. His reply was very wise, I think, and I couldn't define it better myself: it would be wonderful to have a government made entirely of religious Jews, as opposed to what we have today, but on an individual basis, no one should be forced to be religious. I can think of no surer way to make a religion or a way of life hated than forcing it on any and everyone.At the bottom line, I am grateful. Grateful for living in a country where I can feel safe and accepted just being who I am; in a country where nearly anyone, as different from each other as they might be, can say the same. That's one of the great things about Israel. The society is divided and each sector views another as weird, but on the whole, each weird is somehow normal.
Just a few days ago, I received a gift of a book from a very precious friend. The book was called "The Railway Children", by Edith Nesbit. It was written over a hundred years ago, but to me, it was new and I couldn't put it down until I finished reading. It's such a sweet, heart-warming story about a mother and her children and how they overcome the struggles of life. Several times I nearly cried while reading because it touched me so. I imagine this book will be just as good a hundred years from now as it was a hundred years ago. I plan to hang on to it, waiting for the time Shira can read English. I would like to share my all-favorite quote from the book, about the Mother, who was a character I found very inspirational. In a quiet, gentle way, by setting a fine example, she molds her children's souls. "Mother did not spend all her time in playing dull calls to dull ladies, and sitting all day waiting for dull ladies to pay calls to her. She was almost always there, ready to play with her children, and read to them, and help them do their home-lessons. Besides this she used to write stories for them while they were at school, and read them aloud after tea, and she always made up funny pieces of poetry for their birthdays and for other great occasions."What a precious gift it is, for us and for everyone involved, to be there for our children.You can read the book online here, but I'm sticking to my paper copy. It's so much more mobile and can be easily carried into the garden or to bed, which are my two favorite places for reading.
Two interesting questions were raised in response to this post, and to do them justice, I decided to write about them in a post of its own. Both are about two sides of the same coin: what is expected of a woman when there are no young children in her charge? Is tending to the hearth and home sufficient to keep a woman productively employed at every stage of her life? Here is the first question: "Do you think it is best for a father to support his unmarried daughter, if it is within his means to do so?" Saying that a father should support his daughter implies that the daughter would be a burden; I would rather say that the daughter should remain under her father's roof and protection until she is married, all the while taking care to remain productive and use her time wisely. There are many things one can do during the single years, many skills to learn and master. I can attest for myself that there are things I learned while single, which I wouldn't have had the time and energy to learn if I delayed them until I got married. I understand, of course, that in this age of ours not every young woman can remain under her parents' roof until she is married. Some, like me, grew up fatherless; other come from unhealthy family situations. But whatever the young woman's situation in life is, she can prepare for a vocation of wifehood by choosing a path that would at least make her ready to start a family when there is a chance. Even if she has to work to support herself, it doesn't mean she has to dive into a path of a five-year degree and a job with crazy hours that would leave her drained and exhausted. Young women are encouraged to invest in their careers before they start families; even those who explicitly say what they want most in the world is to be wives and mothers, are often pressured to enter a path of studies and career that would leave them in debt, exhausted, and would teach them nothing about running a home, being a good wife and taking care of children. The reasoning given is that they "should do it why they can". Personally, I think it's awfully short-sighted - if a young woman plans to dedicate her life to being a wife and mother at home, why on earth would she invest precious years and lots of money and energy in doing something that would be entirely incompatible with wifehood and motherhood?Here is the second question:"My husband retired in Sept., and the day after, he was hired to work at the only place he ever wanted to work after retirement. Due to our thriftiness, and having no debt but our home, we are able to make it. On the other hand, I am a nurse, and am thinking about going back to work part-time so our savings doesn't go down, and as a "cushion" (my husband's income has gone down considerably). One daughter is in college (living at home), and the other I am homeschooling (she is in her last year). My husband wouldn't mind if I went back to work, but has not pressed the issue. What do you and your readers think? Should we stay home forever? I have lots to keep my busy here: gardening, cooking from scratch (my husband is on a special diet), just living a frugal lifestyle takes time." - Mrs. GAs a young mother, I expect I am still many years, perhaps decades away from the time I will become an empty-nester. I have, however, thought about that time in a woman's life. Before marriage and children, we are inexperienced, and have a lot to learn about keeping and managing a home; when children are grown, we are generally wiser and have much more valuable skills, and our homes are most likely running on a smooth routine, and much time is freed up for things we were too busy for in the hectic years of raising a bunch of little ones. I think the years after the children have left can be a wonderful time for a woman to extend her creativity now that she has more time. A most wonderful example is Rhonda from the "Down to Earth" blog; Rhonda and her husband are a retired couple and their children no longer live with them, but Rhonda fills up her time with so many wonderful, productive ways. She gardens and cooks from scratch, sews and knits and works in the garden, keeps chickens, makes soap and writes. While I don't believe in copying anyone's life, I think that in a way, I want to be like this when I no longer have children at home: young in spirit, busy, productive, with more time on my hands to try things I have always wanted to try, and the doors of my home always open to children and grandchildren who come to visit. I think that after half a lifetime of bearing and raising children, a woman should ideally experience a gentler, slower pace to her days, while still being there for her family. It doesn't mean she would be idle. Like Mrs. G said, there is always plenty to do at home, especially if you have a garden and cook from scratch. It's an awful shame, in my opinion, that older women, instead of having the freedom to enjoy their time at home, are once more facing the pressure to enter the working world, perhaps to compete with younger people for jobs. I think about my own grandmother and how important it was to me that she was always there while I was growing up, a solid presence. What a waste it would be if grandmothers are no longer waiting with open arms and hearts.Of course, when a woman's children are grown, she may find more time for pursuits outside the home, if her husband approves. She may do volunteer work, or expand some of her skills in a way that would serve others as well as her own family. If these skills bring some income, I don't see anything wrong with it per se. I just don't think an older woman should be pressured to enter the rat race instead of tending to the hearth and home.
Read this article, which talks about what happens when a husband loses his job and finds himself supported by his wife. It won't come as a surprise to my regular readers to know I fully support the so-called "traditional" roles of man and wife. Tradition, of course, is the less important part in this; traditions might change, while God's plan for us never does, and He was the one to command Adam to work in the sweat of his brow, and Eve to bear children. So of course it's natural for the woman to take care of the nest and the family.But of course, we all know things might not go according to our initial plan. Husbands may fall ill, lose their jobs, strike up a bad financial bargain, or all of the above. A woman who married someone financially stable might feel it's unfair if the situation changes unexpectedly, though certainly, no one can guarantee it won't happen. I firmly believe this role reversal, when the wife becomes the main breadwinner, is not really a solution; it's unhealthy. Men were not made to be cooped up inside the house and women were not made to be far from their homes and families. It's easy to feel desperate when a "traditional" family is suddenly thrust into such a situation. Here we have another example at how feminism did a huge disservice to women. In the past, if a family was going through a financial crisis, the wife was expected to be frugal, and perhaps do some work temporarily, preferably from home. Now, we are expected to jump into a "career", as if that will be a solution to all our problems, as if there aren't enough couples with two incomes who are up to their ears in debt because they don't know how to handle their finances wisely. I take issue, however, with some attitudes expressed in that article I linked to. Like, for example, losing respect for a husband who lost his job. Many men lose their jobs through no fault of their own; they are likely to sink into depression as it is, when unemployment lasts for a while. The last thing that would encourage and motivate them would be vibes of disrespect and scorn coming from their wives. It becomes an evil circle: a man is unemployed, his wife treats him like a useless loser, and he feels like one, which prevents him to take off again in the working world. It's easy to become frustrated and tell an unemployed husband, "you've failed your part, I'm going out there to do your job because you're inadequate." But wouldn't it be wiser to trust God and trust this husband he gave you, and tell him you know he is doing his best? Wouldn't it be wiser to support and motivate him, and tell him you fully trust his abilities, and perhaps help him look for a job, and motivate him to take advantage of his time of unemployment to learn useful skills? I truly believe it would pay off in the long run. I understand, of course, that there are also situations when the wife is as supportive and encouraging as can be and it doesn't help. We don't live in a perfect world and some men are lazy and irresponsible. But I honestly believe that most men want to take care of their families and be good husbands and fathers. As you know I'm not speaking only theoretically. My husband is currently looking for a job, and some tell me I should invest in my career instead, such as, for example, go ahead and start studying for a Master's degree. I do believe this attitude is not only short-sighted, it would convey that I secretly believe I can do my husband's job better than he could. And in the long run, I think I would pay for it dearly, especially when more children (God willing) come along and I'm stuck with a "career" I can't realistically handle.
Read previous part here.
Two weeks passed as though in a dream. On the outside, everything went on as usual – we took long walks outside when the weather permitted. I carried on with my painting, Catherine with her needlework. By the end of the vacation, I completed portraits of all the little ones, while Catherine had made her first batch of baby things – sweaters, booties, hats and even a blanket.
Aunt Anne started looking at me with an oddly approving way ever since I volunteered to take some ironing off her hands. Don't get me wrong, I didn't suddenly begin to like ironing or something. But Aunt Anne is not feeling her best, that's obvious – and there's a limit to what Catherine can do on her own.
A day before he was to depart, David told us he is sorry to leave so soon.
David, Catherine and I were sitting downstairs next to the fireplace. After a long, full day, Rachel fell asleep in Catherine's lap, and Catherine was gently rocking her while we talked in quiet voices. It was very quiet – the boys were busy doing a puzzle at the opposite corner of the room.
"It must be really interesting in college, isn't it?" I asked.
"Yes," he nodded, "but it's different, all different. The people aren't the same – I'm not the same, Becky. Home is here. " he looked around, his stare tenderly lingering on Rachel's sleeping face, "I'm not even sure how to explain this, but here I feel so real. Now that I've been away for several months, I understand that our parents have always worked on creating a place where each one of us would feel loved and accepted, while being nothing more or less than himself or herself. When I have a home of my own, someday, I would like to give my children a childhood similar to what we had with Mom and Dad. They are extraordinary people."
Extraordinary people. Well, when I first arrived here, it sure seemed extraordinary to me to have no TV and dress in long skirts, not to mention all the other weird religious rituals kept in this house. I felt stifled. But now I sensed that Aunt Anne and Uncle Ben are, indeed, not only weird beyond weird – there's something more about them, even though they can be a pain in the neck. However annoying they might be, I feel welcomed and cared for with them. And in a way, as much as it pained me to admit this, looking at them made me think they are more like what parents should be than my own Mom and Dad ever were.
Our conversation was interrupted by Aunt Anne, who entered the room to remind David to email her and Uncle Ben at least once a week, which David promised he would do.
