Author Biography

Rivka Zakutinsky, lecturer, author, educator, and founder of Aura Press, a religious-book imprint, holds a teaching degree from Beth Jacob Seminary in Brooklyn and a graduate degree from Hofstra University. She lives in Brooklyn, New York.

Table of Contents

Contents

Acknowledgments

Authors' Note

Prologue: Around Sarah's Table

Review

Yitta Halberstam coauthor, "Small Miracles""Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" meets "The Chosen" in this intimate portrait of the world in which otherworldly women dwell. Written with wry humor and a keen sense of balance, "Around Sarah's Table" is a warm and cozy read that is also highly illuminating and enlightening.
Philip Zaleski Editor, "The Best Spiritual Writing" Series, and author, "The Recollected Heart" A window into a little seen but radiant world: that of ultra-Orthodox Jewish women. Ten women gather every Tuesday afternoon to discuss Torah readings and the Hasidic way of life; the reader comes away from this superb account with immense respect, even love, for traditional Jewish practices and for the great religious truths that provide their foundation.
Yitta Halberstam coauthor, "Small Miracles" "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" meets "The Chosen" in this intimate portrait of the world in which otherworldly women dwell. Written with wry humor and a keen sense of balance, "Around Sarah's Table" is a warm and cozy read that is also highly illuminating and enlightening.

Review Quote

Yitta Halberstamcoauthor,Small MiraclesDivine Secrets of the Ya-Ya SisterhoodmeetsThe Chosenin this intimate portrait of the world in which otherworldly women dwell. Written with wry humor and a keen sense of balance,Around Sarah's Tableis a warm and cozy read that is also highly illuminating and enlightening.

Excerpt from Book

Chapter 1: Shaina: Journey to the Other Side Parshas Lech-Lecha The Lord said to Abram, "Go out, from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father''s house, to the land that I will show you. I will make you into a great nation. I will bless you and make you great. You shall become a blessing. I will bless those who bless you and curse those who curse you. All the families of the earth will be blessed through you." -- Genesis 12:1, 2 Abraham''s service, characterized by "proceeding beyond" his own limitations, set the standard for his descendants, the Jewish people. The secret of Abraham''s strength was to go out of himself and to recognize and connect with the Creator. His connection was so strong that his very name was changed, from Abram to Abraham, adding the sacred letter that linked him with God. Standing alone in an era of idolatry, Abraham became known as the Ivri -- the one on the other side. Susan was recently divorced and acutely new to the "religious" Jewish lifestyle. Was she projecting the eroding boundaries of her personal life onto the universe at large? Her mother, Sylvia Gelfarb, thought so. Sylvia, a sensible native Midwesterner, was wary of a daughter more Jewish than the Reform temple or Conservative synagogue had educated her to be. Sylvia absolutely allowed her children the choice of religious affiliation, but Reform or Conservative should have been choice enough. So why wasn''t it? Sylvia had been apprehensive about her daughter''s living arrangements ever since Susan, the birth name that Sylvia had selected for her daughter two and a half decades before, began signing her letters "Shaina." "Shaina," an old-fashioned, grandmotherly name (the name, in fact, of Sylvia''s own departed grandmother), was a Hebrew school name definitely not intended for general use. Those "Shaina" letters came from Israel. After the unfortunate divorce (in retrospect, Sylvia could find no fault with her ex-son-in-law, a fine young mathematician) Susan had flown to Israel, supposedly to prepare to teach a literature course. At first she had great adventures. As soon as she landed, she was invited to Beit Jala, as the guest of a Christian Arab family. Susan wrote home about her hostess''s multigenerational household, all living together within the thick stone walls of their ancestral mountaintop villa. She mentioned orchards, gardens, protective little "houses" that the farmers built around each tomato plant, and the many marriage proposals she received from young Arab boys longing for green cards. It seemed that all was well. But her later letters, the ones she began signing "Shaina," were different. Initially Sylvia conceded to Susan''s logic, agreeing that a week among Christian Arabs might be balanced by a weekend among religious Jews. But when that weekend led to a change of convictions, Sylvia suspected brainwashing. Clearly Susan, emotionally vulnerable as she must be at this time, had become victim to a cult. Sylvia and her husband flew to the Holy Land to set things straight. Susan''s cult was located in the Jerusalem suburb of Bayit V''Gan (House and Garden), under the guise of a seminary for young women called Neve Yerushalayim (Jerusalem Oasis). Sylvia combed the dorms but found only healthy and mentally sound young women. Puzzled, she inquired after the director. She was introduced to Rabbi Moshe Chalkovsky, a refined English scholar, so much a gentleman that Sylvia hardly noticed his yarmulke (head covering). Not that she would have objected; the rabbi''s yarmulke, like the surgeon''s scrubs, is a mark of the profession. Sylvia easily agreed with Rabbi Chalkovsky that girls often go to extremes when they first explore their Jewish heritage in depth. She could even concede that the synagogue''s weekly postconfirmation class did not constitute depth. In time, the rabbi assured her, the girls adapt to the middle way. This pleased Sylvia. The Conservative synagogue, midway between Reform and Orthodox, always had made sense to her. So although Susan/Shaina was intent, just then, on brainwashing her mother, Sylvia looked forward to happier times. They did not materialize. Shaina (Susan appeared lost and gone forever) confirmed Sylvia''s worst fears and abandoned the university. She was even comparing a commitment to the study of English literature with a commitment to the study of Donald Duck! After a taste of what she called Torah, Shaina would not return to Shakespeare. As time passed, Shaina compounded one incomprehensible act with another. Shaina did not settle onto a middle road; she became religious. Yet, as Sylvia explained to her friend Paula, even among the religious there must be some moderation, where, in spite of Torah, you lead a normal life. But not Shaina. She had to join the extremely religious, where Torah is one''s life. Even that situation might not have been hopeless. Sylvia explained to Paula that those who are extremely religious do not consider being extremely religious an extreme. In fact, among the extremely religious there can yet exist considerable normalcy! Among them are men with normal professions. Doctors, lawyers, businessmen, even professors -- Shaina could have married one of these! But no. Shaina had to go to the extreme of the extreme and marry a rabbi. And not a fine, robust, school-directing, gentleman rabbi, like Rabbi Chalkovsky, which could be forgiven. Who Shaina married was a small man who stooped over a little desk writing mezuzahs. No, not the artist who designs the covers! There''s supposed to be a little piece of paper inside the cover. How many people have heard of that? And not just any little piece of paper, but a special parchment one that had to be written by hand to be kosher! No, you can''t buy them in the butcher store. You buy them from men who spend their days and nights writing them! Shaina kisses mezuzahs when she passes one. She says that nailing a mezuzah to the doorpost is a Divine commandment that identifies Jewish homes and helps protect them. The Jewish home, Shaina says, is a holy place, like a miniature Temple! So it''s not enough to have one mezuzah on the front door, but every door that''s not a bathroom door needs a mezuzah. And, according to Shaina, these mezuzahs need to be professionally checked at least twice in seven years to make sure their ink hasn''t worn out. Well, who ever heard of such a thing? Sylvia had never bought a mezuzah; she had assumed that the one nailed to her front doorpost when she moved in twenty years earlier was sufficient. Paula''s mezuzah had a similar history. So how many customers could Shaina''s husband have? But Sylvia had to accept that situation. She rationalized to Paula that Shaina''s husband was not the only man in the world who wrote mezuzahs. There must be a number of such men, and among them exists normalcy. They eat and drink and have normal children. On the other hand, he and Shaina were not blessed with children. So what did they do? They fostered children. While this is going to extremes to obtain children, at least a middle road is possible. Take in average, normal, middle-of-the-road children. But Shaina and her husband went beyond. The extreme of the extreme of the extreme until it''s not worth discussing. They bought a house in the Hasidic community of Crown Heights. And they took in children who were "difficult," to say the least. And not one, but two, and not temporarily, but they adopted them. From this there was no solace, and even Paula had to admit that Shaina and her husband went forth beyond extremes, beyond understanding, and probably beyond return. Going to the "other side" is a process, and Shaina, who had made the transition more than a decade ago, often felt caught in unfinished business. In retrospect, the initial, dramatic part -- changing her diet, wardrobe, neighborhood, and name -- was not so difficult or challenging as it had first appeared. Kosher food was plentiful and tasty; tznius (modest) clothing, covering elbows, knees, and collarbone, with trousers deleted and replaced with skirts, was comfortable and attractive. Her new neighborhood became familiar, her new name, after a pious great-grandmother whom she had never met, was strengthening. These seemingly major changes proved relatively minor. More difficult was reconciling parents, friends, and colleagues, who had cajoled, complained, and even condemned, urging her to return to them. Her insistence that she had not changed, but had only returned to her essence, perhaps even to her very source, convinced no one. "Essence" and "source" were not words that Susan would have used. Her protests only fueled the lamentations of her near and dear ones: Susan was theirs no more. What they didn''t realize was that they seemed lost to her as well. The few cousins, the few friends who eventually made the same transition, she embraced as landsmen from a home far away. The others remained as close as a phone call -- and as distant as a foreign world. Their absence left a vacancy, which remained over time, after her remarriage, and in spite of dear new friends. Yet the unbridged (but not unbridgeable, Shaina always hoped) gap between herself and her family was secondary to the chasm that lurked camouflaged between her old and new selves. Integrating self with self, extricating self from self, was an endless and ultimate challenge. Years later, in October 1998, Shaina was facing a more mundane issue. She faced her closet. She was going out to meet Reva that afternoon. What did she have to go out in? Shaina couldn''t even remember the last time she had gone out. Th

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