Last year on the first day of Hebrew School, was the day after the flood. It was the second Sunday in our new house. We were living amid boxes, after having lived in an apartment. The kids had started a new school, I was finally starting to realize we weren't in a condo on Maui after all and that this was my new reality.
I dropped Mac and Bob off at the place where the older kids have Hebrew School. There are too many kids for all of them to attend school at the Temple, so they rent space at the local Jr. High. Then Sam, Hannah and I continued to the temple. We were sitting in the sanctuary for the assembly. When I started to freak out. I really don't know what or why, I just started having a nervous break down. They had us stand to sing the Shama, which at the time I didn't know. The newness of this activity, the fact that I was doing it alone, was too overwhelming for me.
Sam was with me and he was starting Kindergarten, so I couldn't fall apart at that moment, so I silently lost it. (What ever it is.) I delivered Sam to his class, and Hannah and I went to the Tumlar. We sat down at the table and were eating. After a number of people choosing to not sit with us, a woman and her son, who is about Hannah's age, sat down with us. She was one of those bubbly out going types. She engaged Hannah, gave me a diaper AND wipes as I had none. Watched Hannah when I went to the bathroom. She introduced me to other people. Without really realizing it, she took me under wing that day. She propped me up, when I couldn't do it myself. For that I will always be grateful.
Her Daughter is in Sam's class this year. Last year they sat together. So this isn't one of those stories where you never see that person again. I have never thanked her for doing that for me, I think I should.
This year Hebrew School was better. Sam likes his new teacher, we knew where we were going and it wasn't scary. This year, only Sam cried.