My Inferior Mosaic
Last night, after being steamrollered all afternoon by my kids, I went out to have some fun. The community center had organized some do-it-yourself crafts tables followed by a performance.
And it really was fun. I sat next to a generally “hi, how are you?” neighbor and actually had a 45-minute “tell me about your life” conversation. And simultaneously I sunk into a really pleasant focused-on-creating-something mode, and made this mosaic. I wasn’t thrilled with final product, but I felt it was fine, and anyway the main point of attending was to have some fun and heal from my horrible afternoon.
And then it was time for the performance to start. And for the first time, I looked up from my mosaic at the mosaics of the women around me.
One thing you might not know about Israeli women is that they are almost always WAY better at crafts than us Americans. And looking around I saw that every other mosaic on the crowded table was much better in every possible way than my mosaic. The mosaics of the other women were prettier, more creative, more colorful, and the stones were cut more cleanly and not put in upside-down, as the instructor informed me mine were.
My mosaic was inferior. And looking around at the table, I realized that it wasn’t only my mosaic that was inferior.
That mother over there has worked the night-shift every night this week, and taken care of her toddler all day, and she is still way more patient with her kids than I am and has a cleaner house than I do.
That mother over there also has an active 1-year-old and 4-year-old boys like me, and she somehow doesn’t feel as steamrollered by them as I do every afternoon.
And that mother…When her son was Shabbat Abba in gan, she made iced cookies shaped like lit candles. When Yaakov was Shabbat Abba I just bought some cheetos at the corner store.
When I got home, 11-year-old Moriah was still up. Somewhat embarrassed, I showed her my inferior mosaic.
Her eyes went wide behind her pink glasses. “Eema, You MAAADE that? It’s gooorgeous! How did you DO that? I looove it!”
I placed the mosaic down on the living-room table and took another look at it. Not perfect, but, well, good enough. Like the mother who made it.