On Simchat Torah the Jews honour the holy books, the end of one cycle of readings, the beginning of the next. They remove the scrolls from the Ark of the Covenant, carry them lovingly, one by one, around the synagogue. Old Jews, their faces illuminated by emotion, wind the edges of their prayer shawls around their hands. With the ends and fringes of their ritual garments they reach their fingers towards the embodiment of the Word, touch the hand wrapped in the talith to the scroll, move their cloth-wrapped fingers to their mouths. Shabbes I make Shabbes for you when you're in town, an early supper.
Winter days end quickly.
From your seat at my table, you watch me, a Jewish woman in her kitchen preparing supper. Sometimes you follow me, like a child, from counter to stove. Shapeless in my clothes, I salt the soup, slice fruit to sweeten your evening. You follow me with your eyes, follow the movements of my body. Sharon H. Nelson.