Why I Love Yaakov’s Nursery School
I bring my 2-year-old Yaakov to gan, and I see a dream come true.
I see Breslov Natan walking by in a white kippah decorated with “Na, Nach, Nachma, Nachman Me’Uman” circling his brown curls.
I see Yerushalmi Chaim’ke talking in Yiddish with his teacher, Ganenet Rut, who nods her black-scarfed head as she listens carefully to his every word.
I see Lubavitch Menachem Mendel playing with a toy car, his black felt “Yehee Adonenu, Morenu v’Rabenu” kippa sitting atop his brown pony tail.
I see Rochel’s father in a yeshivish black hat and suit leaving her off at gan. She is wearing an elegant striped skirt over white tights, in honor of Rosh Chodesh.
Beside her in blond pigtails is little Batsheva. When she is a big girl at Bait Yaakov, I predict, she will be one out of a crowd Batshevas— named after Rabbanit Kanyevsky zts”l. When I speak with Batsheva’s mother I call her youngest daughter simply “the Rabbanit.”
Yaakov hasn’t started wearing a kippa yet. But when he does, it will be knitted, like his Abba’s, and several other fathers from the gan.
One of my favorite things to do on Israeli Independence Day is walk through Sacher Park and breathe in the smell of hundreds of barbecues. I close my eyes and imagine that Moshiach has arrived and I am breathing in the smoke of sacrifices in the Holy Temple.
Unfortunately, this Independence Day, the meteorologists are expecting heavy rain…
So I guess if this year I want to feel like Moshiach is already here, I will have to spend the holiday sitting cross-legged on the floor amongst the 2-year-olds at Yaakov’s gan instead.