By Steffanie Belasco
Every year as Rosh Hashanah approaches, I am flooded with childhood memories. I feel grateful that I have these memories as they remind me that my parents, brother, and dear grandmother are a part of me. I find myself reaching for those memories when I am uncertain about something. I ask myself, “What would mom would say to me?” I remember my father telling me that if I wanted something badly enough, I was in control of making it happen. My brother taught me to have fun. But overall, my grandmother Celia is the one who taught me unconditional love at a very young age. She taught me to see the beauty and specialness in people and to look at the uniqueness of each being.
As I reflect, I am aware that I don’t always remember to follow the paths that were laid out for me, but am aware of the possibilities that I have each day to do so.
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