Sometimes, it takes an extra spoonful (or trough) of emunah to get through the day. Consider the morning when I successfully I woke, which was good, but woke up wheezing from residual bronchitis, which was not so good.
Yet, when I stood before my window, I could see the Jerusalem skyline, which was good. Nonetheless, I could also see the village of my ethnic cousins, the ones who had laid claim to the land of my forefathers, which was not so good. Despite that, the buildings of the holy city gleamed golden in the morning light, which was good, but in lingering before the view, I left late for teaching my classes, which was not so good.
Somehow, I managed to get to the staff parking lot early, which was good, but I dropped my cell phone behind my seat, which was not good. I retrieved that instrument with ten minutes of free time to spare and was able to contact two of my doctors, as well as to RSVPs to a simcha, all of which was good. On the other hand, I was not able to reach a certain dear one, which was not good.
As I approached the classroom building, I saw some of my students and considered asking them to help me haul my supplies, which was good. Yet, they neither saw nor heard me, which was not so good. So, I schlepped all of my papers, books, and projects up four flights of stairs, by myself, and still got to my desk with two minutes to spare, which was good. Only then did I realize that my shirt was on inside out and that I had been too tired and too preoccupied, at home, to notice, which was bad.
I rushed to the women’s bathroom and amended the situation, which was good. Nevertheless, I got back to my desk two minutes after the class bell rang, which was not so good. A few hours latter, it was lunch time and I was able to enjoy a slice of quiche made by one of my children, which was good and which tasted good. The quiche had unpitted olives in it, though, which was bad.
After a few more classes, my work day was over, which was good. When I returned home, I found one of my children “creatively” sorting the laundry; pairing socks of mismatching hues, fastening blouses and of shirts in an interesting manner, and wadding up the towels, which was not so good. In balance, another of my children brought me a cup of hot tea, which was good. The paper wrapper was still on the teabag, which was not so good.
Back in my home office, I discovered that I had received an email, which was an acceptance letter, which was good. Then I heard something crash in my salon, which was not so good. None of my children were hurt, which was good. A favorite lamp was no longer functional, which was not so good.
My husband returned home from work, which was good. He brought news of an upcoming international trip, which was not so good.
We had enough food for dinner and enough beds for everyone to sleep in, which was good. Before the night ended, one of our children strode into our diningroom with a goopy shoe and announced that she had killed a jukim, “just like Daddy,” which was indeterminate. Despite or because of all of the above, we feel asleep while the stars over Jerusalem twinkled. The day ended well.