The men and young boys of the family went to Synagogue to pray when Shabbat began. When they returned we sat down to dinner. There were 13 of us crowded around two tables. One of the sons poured wine into a brass cup for his father. There were two fathers in the house actually. Traditions states they should bless their children every shabbat. I watched as the younger father put his hands above his daughter's head and began to pray. I think he avoided touching her head because she was busy eating and he didn't want to disturb her. The older father took his children one by one pressing their heads against his. He prayed and finished by kissing them on the forehead. He then took his place at the head of the table and prayed over the wine, pouring a small amount for each guest at the table. Next, he blessed the bread and broke a piece off to eat. Then he offered a piece to his wife before sharing it with the rest of the table. The dinner was a feast. We had green salad, roasted red peppers, hummus, cucumber salad, chicken noodle soup, mashed potatoes, baked chicken, rice pilaf and probably something else I forgot. For dessert we had apple pie, peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, and mint tea made from fresh mint leaves. Oh, and they sang songs of praise in Hebrew before and after the dinner. The only reason they spoke english the rest of the night was for us.
It was powerful to be in that house. I feel like we saw what it was really like to live in the Jewish faith. We experienced first hand their traditions and kinship, and they welcomed us just like family. I was particularly impressed with the father, Roni. I think he is the type of father I would like to be. His children mean so much to him. That was made evident from the gestures and many stories that were shared at the table. By the time we left I felt such a strong admiration for them I almost cried.
Here are some pictures. The first is from Egypt at Karnak Temple. The second is at the top of Mount Sinai.