In this issue
April 9, 2014

Jonathan Tobin: Why Did Kerry Lie About Israeli Blame?

Samuel G. Freedman: A resolution 70 years later for a father's unsettling legacy of ashes from Dachau

Jessica Ivins: A resolution 70 years later for a father's unsettling legacy of ashes from Dachau

Kim Giles: Asking for help is not weakness

Kathy Kristof and Barbara Hoch Marcus: 7 Great Growth Israeli Stocks

Matthew Mientka: How Beans, Peas, And Chickpeas Cleanse Bad Cholesterol and Lowers Risk of Heart Disease

Sabrina Bachai: 5 At-Home Treatments For Headaches

The Kosher Gourmet by Daniel Neman Have yourself a matzo ball: The secrets bubby never told you and recipes she could have never imagined

April 8, 2014

Lori Nawyn: At Your Wit's End and Back: Finding Peace

Susan B. Garland and Rachel L. Sheedy: Strategies Married Couples Can Use to Boost Benefits

David Muhlbaum: Smart Tax Deductions Non-Itemizers Can Claim

Jill Weisenberger, M.S., R.D.N., C.D.E : Before You Lose Your Mental Edge

Dana Dovey: Coffee Drinkers Rejoice! Your Cup Of Joe Can Prevent Death From Liver Disease

Chris Weller: Electric 'Thinking Cap' Puts Your Brain Power Into High Gear

The Kosher Gourmet by Marlene Parrish A gift of hazelnuts keeps giving --- for a variety of nutty recipes: Entree, side, soup, dessert

April 4, 2014

Rabbi David Gutterman: The Word for Nothing Means Everything

Charles Krauthammer: Kerry's folly, Chapter 3

Amy Peterson: A life of love: How to build lasting relationships with your children

John Ericson: Older Women: Save Your Heart, Prevent Stroke Don't Drink Diet

John Ericson: Why 50 million Americans will still have spring allergies after taking meds

Cameron Huddleston: Best and Worst Buys of April 2014

Stacy Rapacon: Great Mutual Funds for Young Investors

Sarah Boesveld: Teacher keeps promise to mail thousands of former students letters written by their past selves

The Kosher Gourmet by Sharon Thompson Anyone can make a salad, you say. But can they make a great salad? (SECRETS, TESTED TECHNIQUES + 4 RECIPES, INCLUDING DRESSINGS)

April 2, 2014

Paul Greenberg: Death and joy in the spring

Dan Barry: Should South Carolina Jews be forced to maintain this chimney built by Germans serving the Nazis?

Mayra Bitsko: Save me! An alien took over my child's personality

Frank Clayton: Get happy: 20 scientifically proven happiness activities

Susan Scutti: It's Genetic! Obesity and the 'Carb Breakdown' Gene

Lecia Bushak: Why Hand Sanitizer May Actually Harm Your Health

Stacy Rapacon: Great Funds You Can Own for $500 or Less

Cameron Huddleston: 7 Ways to Save on Home Decor

The Kosher Gourmet by Steve Petusevsky Exploring ingredients as edible-stuffed containers (TWO RECIPES + TIPS & TECHINQUES)

Jewish World Review June 20, 2012/ 30 Sivan, 5772

A phone call to treasure

By Sharon Randall

http://www.JewishWorldReview.com | When the phone rang, I had no way of knowing it was a call I would treasure forever.

Life is full of surprises, like a storm in the night that leaves you fumbling in the dark for a flashlight, then dazzles you with blazes of lightning. It makes you want to get up each day just to see what will happen, where the lightning will strike, and who might be calling you next.

Before answering, I squinted at the Caller I.D., hoping to avoid a telemarketer or politician or anybody else wanting to sell me something.

Without my glasses -- which, as usual, were someplace other than where I needed them to be -- I could barely read the number. But the area code told me it was probably one of my kids.

"Hey, darlin'!" I said, clueless as to which darlin' it might be.

Then I heard it -- the sweet, small voice of a sweet, small boy -- my first grandchild calling me for the very first time.

Randy is almost 2. As my mother would say, he "talks up a storm," but in a language all his own. It is a beautiful language -- mystical, magical and seriously comical. He has taught it well to his mom and dad and dogs and cats. They all have no problem understanding him.

He tries teaching it to me, too, whenever I come to visit. But we live 500 miles apart, so I don't get to visit often. It's a lot like a correspondence course, when what I need is total immersion.

To my credit, I have learned a few words ("Mama," "Dada," "dog"). The last time I saw him, a long month ago, he taught me some animal sounds (cow, "moo"; duck, "quack"; kitty, "meow"). I don't pick things up as fast as I once did. By the time I'm fluent, he'll be in college, too busy to talk "baby talk" with his nana.

Mostly, when he talks, I just listen. Listening to "baby talk" is like listening to music. You don't always need to know the words of a song to understand its meaning, or to feel it swell up your heart near to bursting.

I also nod a lot and say "Absolutely, yes, of course!" if he seems to want my opinion. I'm good at it. I could listen and nod and agree with him forever.

Meanwhile, I kept waiting for the day when we can have a real conversation, the boy and I.

That day came today. It started, according to his mom, like this: He brought her the phone and asked her to dial it.

"Who do you want to call?" she said, offering a few names, all of which he rejected. Then she said "Nana?" and he nodded. So she dialed my number and handed him the phone.

"Hi, Nana!" he said, in plain English, clear as a bell.

I wish you could've heard him.

Then he switched to his other language, babbling on, speaking his mind, pouring out his heart, preaching to the wind.

"Absolutely," I said, nodding, "yes, of course!"

I pictured this as the first of many phone calls. He would call me to talk about all his "firsts," preschool through college, his first day of Little League, his first real job, his wedding day, and the birth of his first child.

I was looking forward to it all.

Finally, after he had said all he'd called to say, I kept him on the phone with animal sounds.

"What does the cow say?" I asked, and he mooed.

The duck? He quacked.

The kitty? He mewed.

The dog? He giggled and barked. Exhausting my vast knowledge of the domestic realm, I turned to the wild.

"What does the lion say?"

No reply. I waited, giving him time to think. I like for people to do that for me. But maybe he didn't know what a lion says.

So, to show him just how smart his nana is, I roared into the phone -- really loud -- and I heard a clatter on the other end.

His mom came on the line.

"What did you say to him?" she said, laughing. "He threw down the phone and ran!"

He may never call me again.

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