Claire Two children squat on the sidewalk outside their apartment building stirring a mud puddle with twigs after a storm. Hey this looks like chocolate milk! Whoa. We could give it to Claire in a dixie cup and say it was chocolate milk, and maybe she would fall for it. How does it first arise, I wonder— the flash of cruelty, the severing of connection. And by what grace do we transcend this callous othering?
Ahz mah (So what)
by Randy Kafka / Rabbi, writer, activist