In which I talk about chanting Torah, singing, life, you name it. This blog is a writing exercise to help me organize my thoughts.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
I got up early the next morning morning and walked past trees still wet with dew to the cabin for Shabbat morning services, where I chose a seat further up front. Not since I was twelve had I been to one of these from start to finish. There were only a few of us at first, and the prayers started out quietly, just a little more than whispering. We advanced from one prayer to the next in a smooth relay, and after awhile the words took on a rhythm like brisk walking. More people wandered in through the open walls and across the wooden floor, now bleached white from the morning sun. I recognized them from last night and smiled, and the small group of us moved the folding chairs closer together.
Posted by alto artist at 12:03 AM
Labels: history, Judaism, retreats, Shabbat services
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
Post a Comment