Reality

And so she smiled
As sweet as can be
In the face of the monster
Called reality.

It bared its ugly teeth
And flared its nostrils wide
Under its scrutinizing glare
There was no where to hide

In it's home, a cave
Filled with dark shadows, no light
She tried to run
As her soul was filled with fright

But the monster gave chase
And despite how fast the little girl tried to run
The monster was always ahead
And it seemed like he had won

Her throbbing legs
And aching heart
Proved how she felt
Like she was being torn apart

Was there anywhere
She would be safe and free
A place where she could escape
The pains of reality?

Because that monster
Tests and tries
To break you down
Your dead soul is his prize

When you run away
He will pursue
But if you befriend him
He will be helpful to you

Don't run
Despite the chase
Invite him to join you
And create your own place

Reality, you fiend
I thought you were my foe
But truly you're my comrade
And now the truth, I know

Exciting News

I can't post what it is exactly yet, but I have some exciting news!

Check back for the grand unveiling!

Let's Go To Wonderland

Welcome to tha land
Where dreams come true
Where anything can happen
In all that you do

A place where smiles
Stretch from ear to ear
Welcome to Wonderland
I am so happy that you are here

Come join our dance
As we spin in circles round and round
Enter this realm of the world
Where joys know no bounds

Here, sadness and sorrow
Disappear for a spell
A place where everything
Is perfect and well

Wonderland filled
With creatures of all kinds
People who care
For the happiness of your mind

Welcome to Wonderland
A place where all pain goes away
Here for a short while
The memories last every single day

Was, Is, Will Be- Im Ain Ani Li, Mi Li?

I can deal with loneliness
The solitude of no one who understands
Is almost comforting
Cuz who can I rely on
If don't choose to rely on myself.

There is only me
I have to look out for myself
My heart, my head
My limits
Maybe I push boundaries
Maybe I break rules
Maybe that's just me.

Who I am
Can't be defined
I am more than a picture
A description
But who I am
Is me
Whoever that may be

You can't pin me down
Put me in a box
You cornered me once
You shoved me down
And trampled on my spirit
You broke me
But I emerged
I didn't succumb
I soared
I won't be chained down
I will fly.

You tried to crush me
And you almost did
I almost gave in to the pain
I almost let my life go off the edge
Like it did once before
But I fought
Tooth and nail
For my happiness
I would not lose

And now here I am
I see the finish line
Of this race that I am running now
I hear the cheers
See the signs
And there you are
Arms wide open
Ready to hold me
Thank you for everything
Thank you for pulling from the pain
Thank you for giving my my wings.

A Problem Plaguing Our People-- Shmiras HaLashon... A Call for Help

I have this potentially problematic predicament that plagues me periodically (How's that for alliteration?)
Anyhow, it always starts with a simple conversation. It could be with a friend, in the hallway, at the Shabbos table, over the phone, on Gchat-- you name it, I have had it.
And it doesn't even seem so bad.
At first.
I start telling an innocent, generic story or anecdote-- something someone mentioned to me, and I relate it to someone else, NAMES FREE (that doesn't make me less guilty of passing on news but...) then comes the big question: Who is it? or Who said it? or Where did you hear it from?
So me, being a clever little chicky, answer ' A little birdie told me."
Yet, for whatever reason, that doesn't fly. They MUST have names. Names, names, names, and I try SO hard to keep quiet. I don't want to say. I don't have to say! Yet for some reason, I MUST say. And only when I do is the yentish curiosity satisfied, only then do they stop pestering me... and only then do I feel like falling into the floor. I feel sick for succumbing to the pressure of revealing a piece of information that didn't NEED to be shared.
A few weeks ago at an assembly my teacher was talking to the school about tznius. We were sitting in a circle on the floor and she spoke to us giving us straightforward facts about covering the shok and what Torah dictates. And then she quoted an unnamed source about an additional piece of information about tznius. Now this teacher, I respect WHOLE-HEARTEDLY. She is smart, funny, intelligent, and is NOT one to mince words.
After she spoke, a riot broke out.
She can't say things like that!
Who is her source!
It's not right.
So I asked "What's the problem?"
Her source.
And I replied, "Why does it matter? She is a respectable person- would she quote some moron of the street? And if you wanted to know her source so you could contact them to inquire further about what he said (she said it was a Rabbi) would you really? If it were R' Elyashiv, would you call to say you had a problem? NO! You wouldn't! You just want to satisfy your own desire of knowing WHO said it. WHAT he said doesn't matter. Who HE is does. But it shouldnt."
I know that my teacher would only quote reputable sources. Obviously there was a reason her source remained nameless. Maybe because whoever said it would dictate how the girls accepted it. But it doesn't matter. If he is a Rav, his Torah is HASHEM's Torah, so why should we stoop so low to busy-body around about WHO he is.
This has been on my mind a lot lately.
Stories need names. I won't say I am Loshon Hora free. I'm not. But it bugs me to know end when names ALWAYS have to be given... and what's worse than that, is the shamed feeling I feel when I TRY to change the topic of Loshon Hora to something more neutral and people get all HUFFY and disregard my desperate attempt to change conversation.
I know about all the Shmiras Halashon campaigns. I have read books, heard speakers, watched plays and even seen/experienced its effects... yet has any real change been accomplished? Is Moshiach any closer? Have we really watched our words, guarded our lips? Can we... can I go to sleep at night knowing I didnt harm another person with my words?
No. And I don't think anyone out there can say they didn't.
And that... is so sad.

What can we do to make change? How can we solidify all our Machsom Lfi's and learning groups to make REAL change to bring Moshiach? How can reading Shmiras Halashon, A Lesson A Day, Purity of Speech, Positive Word Power and the countless other books on the topic affect us if the words we READ only stop at our eyes, and our lips somehow keep going?

How can we save ourselves when we don't even care to save each other?

Oh, The Places You'll Go!

I wrote about Dr. Seuss's brilliant poem here a few months ago. And then, as luck would have it, Little Sheep wrote about it here as part of, what I think to be a creative therapy. It's mamish so clever how she incorporated it into her own life and growth. So, I whole heartedly suggest you head over and check out her explosion of creativity! (And inventive use of every type of craft product out there!)

I Am Not Who I Am

Look at me,
And who do you see
The faint resemblance
Of who I was formally.

A mere shadow of similarity
To the life that I once lead
Yet, it looks nothing like
The road that lays ahead.

I am not who I am
The person that the world does know
I am a traveling person
Looking and seeking, only to grow

I am not who I am
The darker side remains hidden
For there is a lighter path
That has yet to be ridden

Can the past shape my future
Or do the two no longer connect
When it is my past that has fallen
And does not continue to keep me erect

For the bridges I burned
To bring me where I am now
I still wonder, and ponder
Could it be, and how?

The flames have fallen
And cold they now remain
Former brightness and falsehood
Now are bleeding and slain.

I am not who I am
The person who lives in my mind
Is a secret, scarred being
Whom I never again wish to find

She was a dark being
Filled with secrets and pain
And her twisted life and ways
Left nothing to be gained

Yet somehow in her trickery
She turned into the person that is me
A person of whom to be proud of
I wonder, can it be?

Accomplished, and happy
To bask in a positive glow
No longer marred by red and black lights
Of an illicit, depressing show

Finally free from the chains
That once held me back
I am no longer a person
Who thrives and strives on lack.

I am not who I am
Or whom I once seemed to be
I am a person, no, a SOUL
Changing, evolving, continuously.

Living Life In The Fast Lane

Get in,
Get going,
Keep moving,
Don't stop.
Pressures mounting,
Time is running out,
Speed up,
Don't stop.

Faster,
Faster,
So what if they will catch you?
So what if someone will find out?
So what if I am racing against the clock?
If I stop,
I'll crash.

Remembrance

It's not like I actually have time to post. In fact, I really have no time at all for extraneous activities, but if this sits in my notebook any longer, I might burst... Here goes...




My child, you asked,
For the story of my past,
The war torn years,
Have yet to disappear,
They still linger in my heart.


The thunder of war still rattles my bones,
Those monsters of Hatred destroyed all our homes,
Their cruelty and killing,
Remains deadly and chilling,
And tears my dreams apart.


The sky was soaked with the color of red,
The fields were strewn with bodies of the dead.
The screams of pain filled the air,
And those sick monsters did not even care.
It seemed as if our world would end.


Mothers and children were separated,
By the savagery those soldiers committed.
We rebelled in the night
By keeping our spirits a-light,
Our burning faith would never bend.


To camps we were sent,
To be broken and bent
At the hand of the gun and the cold
Where black bread was considered gold
And there we thought we would die.


In the early morning hours we would awake
Our spirits they would beat and break
Before our eyes, loved ones would fall,
"Shema Yisroel" would be their final call
As their souls soared to the sky


"Bubbe, I beg, is this tale true?"
My child, it is, the words that I speak to you
"Bubbe, I am so sorry the world was so dark."
It was, but my dear, you are the continuing spark
Who will continue to shine and carry our people high...

Perfection

We strive for it,
We reach for it
We try desperately to attain it.
It's elusive,
It's dangerous,
And we can drive ourselves to madness
Hoping to get it.

Perfection...

For the right reasons,
It can help us
It can polish us
To shine like diamond
And sparkle as we go on our way.

Perfection....

But since the Churban
Perfection doesn't exist.
It can be imitated
With lies and Photoshop
With demands as well
But since the Bayis stood
For perfection
And it is now gone
Perfection went with it.

Perfection...

If we strive so hard for it
Shouldn't it be for the right reasons?
To bring Shem Hashem into the world?
To rebuild the Bayis of Hashem?
We should perfect our middos, our thoughts
Our emotions as well.
Our external, and material goals
Can use a little smudge or rip
For they remind us
Of what is no longer with us...

Perfection....

If Only Life Were As Simple As...

1... 2.... 3... 4.... 20... 25.... 30... Ready or not, here I come!

If only life were as simple as a game of hide and seek. I would count, whatever I need to find would hide and after counting, a few minutes of searching, POOF, there it would be, that mysterious thing that I needed to find that had somehow sneaked out of my sight. One, two, three, easy-shmeasy, lemon squeezy, or however the rhyme goes. Life would be happy and I could go on.
Right?
Wrong.
Life is never that simple. And if it were, there wouldn't be the same satisfaction at the end of the game. We would be stuck feeling annoyed and frustrated that we weren't challenged more... "That was too easy!" we would whine. So guess what? We are tested. There are obstacles placed in our way. And it is those obstacles that make the search take that much longer.
And we hate it.
But, ask any track runner, or hurdle jumper- they LOVE obstacles. It helps to strengthen their skills, refine their talent, and push them to further limits.
In the quest for truth, there is no easy road. There is no easy solution or simple answer that will make all the millions of little pieces fall into place.
We have to look. We have to take the time to count, to ready ourselves, then enter the long and arduous process of lifting rocks, ruffling some pages and meeting some new people. It's hard, difficult, testing, but so worthwhile. Because after a long game of hide and seek, isn't there some pleasure in knowing you had to go beyond your comfort zone, and search somewhere you wouldn't have thought to look?

The Reason for Existence

If this is the life
I am meant to lead
Then I gotta be sure
To whack and weed
The parts that hurt
And harm
Those things that in others
Surely cause alarm
The mistakes, the traits
That don't please
Things that strong people
Overcome with ease
Little annoyances
Or problems passing by
Shouldn't really cause me such pain
That I scream and cry
Things to work on
Definitely for sure
But could it be
That really there is more?
What is my purpose
Really, why am I here?
The reason for living
Should be as clear as day
Because, or else
How can we make our own way?
Or is that the reason
We were placed here to do
All the things
That will help us to find You
Father, I'm searching
With all my heart and might
To find the light that is You
That can lead me from night
The reason for my existence
Is obscured and unknown
Until I see all the clues that You
Have so lovingly shown

The Power of Tefillah!

Yes, yes, I know I said I was taking a break. But this story is too good not to post, so I am breaking my hiatus to share it with you. (And the fact that I made it through a rough week, I think I deserve to post something!) Anyhow, this is how the story goes....

In January, I got a call from a lady asking me if I wanted a job. I had called her earlier in the year when she said she was looking for someone, but I hadn't heard from her until January. It was the night of my production so I was a little bit all over the place. A few weeks before Purim, I started working in her basement store. The first few times I worked there were quite boring because no one came. Then, around Pesach time, things started to pick up. I was working long Sunday hours, nights and then, it was Pesach. By the time the holiday started, I had worked quite a decent amount of hours, and the lady I worked for said she was running payroll around a week before Pesach. I was really excited, and grateful, because I owed money to a few people. I waited all Pesach, checked the mailbox religiously, and was just short of stalking the mailman (For those of you who are politically correct, mail person... anyhow..). And my check wasn't coming. I was getting more and more stressed by the day because before Yom Tov I had my sister buy a cd, earrings and a necklace for me which I needed to pay her back for, I owed my mother money for a sweatshirt, a wristlet, pictures and admission to a school program. I needed to get paid. To top it off, the lady was moving so she was all over the place. I felt so bad calling, but really, I was getting desperate. After Pesach I called about once a week and they said that something was going on with the payroll company and it would come in a few days.
I was a mess.
Then today, this morning in fact, I was davening in the hallway in school, and I was just so frustrated. In Shemonei Esrai, I just said, "Hashem, please, I need this money so bad!!! Please let it come soon!" So, after school I was waiting VERY patiently for the mail man. The second he came (I actually watched him come up the steps) I pounced on the mail. The only thing there was for me what my camp contract which was good, but no check.
By that point, I was starting the think about Parnassah and how maybe I wasn't meant to get this check and Hashem had decided on Rosh Hashana I just didn't deserve. But, I was ready to accept it.
Around three o'clock I went to drop something off at my teacher's house. Then, a friend called and said she wanted to take me for Slurpees, so she picked me up on the side of the road. On the way, my phone rang. It was my father. He said to keep walking, because I had originally been walking, and go to my employer's (new!) house: My check was waiting there.
Dear readers, I was SO happy. And my first thought: WOW! How incredible is Tefilla! I hadn't asked for my check before in my tefilos because I had so many other things to ask Hashem for and thank Him for that it didn't occur to me to ask for my check. But today I did. And I got it. (Of course, as quickly as I got it, I had to pay off my debts, but there is still a nice chunk left). So really, it just hit home....
Lately, I have been hearing a lot about making Hashem as real as possible in our lives, and today proved how present He is, every single second of every single day. If things would just go along as they had been, I probably would have never gotten my check. Even when I went to pick it up, my employer's house was loud and noisy because (ON EREV SHABBOS!) they were having an insane amount of work done...
Today, once again, showed me how Hashem is truly directing and guiding my life. And if you ask, He'll answer.
Have a wonderful Shabbos!

I Just Wanna...

I just wanna write. I don't care about what, or when, or who, or why. I just wanna write. Whatever comes into my head, whatever needs to be written, that is what I will write. And so I am.
Taking a blogging break. I've decided to take the sage advice of the Va'ad HaBloggers out there and am going to go experience a bit (and maybe do some school work).
When I come back (I think a two-three week hiatus sounds nice) I'll hopefully have some nice literature to post. I got this story in my head that is itching to come out. If only I had more time. So dear bloggers, two (or three) weeks starts now (bli neder)
I'll still be reading and emailing, so feel free to drop me an email....

A Single Word

If I hide from the world,
Then surely the world can't see me,
A small, miniscule person
In a vast, expansive sea

Faces of strangers
Dance in front of my own
In a crowd of a million
How can one feel so alone?

Running free
From the chains of the day
There must be an answer
To help me fly away

Where are the wings
That they speak of so highly
It must be in whispers,
Cuz it is heard of so quietly

But they scream, they yell!
They beg to be heard
The simplest of speeches
Often the utterances of a single world

So I shall flee from the pains
And troubles that clutch tight
For one single word
Can save me from a thousand dark nights

If I hide from the world
Then surely the world can't see me
But to do so would be weakness
And an impossible reality.

Anyone?

I think I need a break from blogging...
Anyone out there in cyberspace reading this blog?
If you are, leave a comment so I know I'm not writing into the oblivion...

The End?

Turning over, turning back
Gaining and getting what we lacked
For eight straight days, no bread at all
And now in the stores, it's a free for all! (well.. not really)

I have one day left of vacation. Then, straight back into school and real life. It's so weird.
I don't even know what to write about it all... I feel like I am on a merry go round, going full speed... but like in those intense movie scenes, going incredibly slow.
Weird? I think so.
I am happy... blissed out sorta, chilled, not really chapping....
More to come on the matter.
For now, enjoy the chametz...

Connections, Climbing and Kedusha!

The thought of you keeps me smiling.
I still think of the time we spent together,
The moments etched in my mind
Will remain there, stark and forever.

Time keeps moving along
Sometimes I just want a moment to stop
But if I stop where I stand
Chances are I'll never reach the top

Despite the hardships
The struggle and the pain
The ever nearing summit leads me to believe
There is still so much to gain

So when I think of you
So very close, or even far away
I know I can keep climbing
And forge my own way

The heat, the elements
They may slow me down
But in the threatening sea of struggles
I refuse to succumb and drown

I think of all the good things
The laughter, learning and love
To keep me grounded and sure
In my connection to the One Above

He sent me to you
When I needed you most
Even when it's hard when you're far
I remind myself to be grateful when you're close

So keep climbing!
Remind those you love that you care
And IYH one day we'll be together in Yerushalayim Ir Hakodesh
Singing and dancing in the Kedusha that rests there!

Spring Bliss

Spring fantasies
Flutter through my mind
Green grass
Dancing trees
Sprightly flowers
A calming warm breeze

Peaceful moments
Beneath the leaves' shade
Long walks
Just strolling with friends
Through city streets
Meetings at every bend

Yellow sun
Lighting the blue cloudless sky
Laughter and happiness
Relaxation
Sun tanning in the back
Cool drinks in hand

O to Spring, Hashem's creation
I sing Your praises
No more cold
Or snow to keep me inside
I will greet the world
Smiling and content

Inner turmoil
Ceasing to stir
As the lazy trees wave
Filling my soul
With peace
And pure bliss

Of Parties and Poverty

The dining room was exquisitely decorated in shades of maroon and red, accented with gold fixtures, setting the relaxing mood the host hoped to impart onto her guests. The table, already set, was lined with expensive china, silver toned cutlery and carefully folded napkins. The way everything was arranged, one would have thought this was a meal for a king. Yet as the guests walked in, one could tell immediately that they were not royalty, rather members of the upper class society, eager for a nice time. Amongst the meal participants was Ahuva, thrilled at the chance to partake in such an elegant meal… even more so, to host it in her own home. She descended the staircase leading into the waiting area wearing a flowing black gown, embellished with rhinestones. She looked, and felt like a princess as all the guests stared up at her, envious of her beauty, wealth and prestige. Ahuva flashed a humble smile as she led her guests into the dining room. They followed like ducks in a line, her friends and family, smiling just as brightly as Ahuva.

By her order, everyone sat down to begin the meal. Light music, provided by a flute, violin and piano played in the background, mingled with the pleasant chatter of the guests. Ahuva welcomed each guest individually, by name, inquiring as to how each one’s family was, what they were doing and how they were feeling. From the way she asked, each guest felt as if she was genuinely interested. Truth be told, Ahuva was! She enjoyed hearing about the good news of others and the guests were happy to share.

The meal went on, course by course, of perfectly cooked meats, fresh vegetables, delicious fruits to cleanse between courses and a decadent assortment of desserts in every type of flavor imaginable: chocolate, vanilla, mint, fruit, cakes, cookies and ice cream. The guests, full and happy, left the meal satisfied of hunger and of sad spirit. After the last guest left, Ahuva clapped her hands for the maids to come and clean up the remainders of the meal. Happy to see them working swiftly, Ahuva made her way to her room. Opening the door, Ahuva sighed with content. Everything looked picturesque in its place.

Shedding her gown, Ahuva hurried into her bed to snuggle warmly under the covers. She closed her eyes to fall back into a restful sleep…

But instead of dreaming peacefully, Ahuva awoke to see the nightmare that was her life. Instead of being surrounded by a four poster bed, elegant paintings and expensive china dolls, Ahuva saw her small cramped room with a broken dresser, cracked mirror and clothes strewn in every direction. Ripped books and dirty paraphernalia littered the floor. Instead of soft lights lighting the room, one lone lamp stood in the corner casting eerie shadows across the room. Ahuva held back the tears that burned against her eyes. She had had dreams like this one before—wistful imaginative portraits of what she wished her life was like—filled with elegant parties, high society guests and everyone admiring her instead of the other way around.

Knowing she would be unable to fall back asleep, Ahuva groggily went out of her room. She walked down the tiny hallway that led to the kitchen which doubled as the front entrance to her family’s two bedroom apartment. Ahuva tiptoed as quietly as she could. She was not eager to wake her two sisters and three brothers from their slumber knowing it would only result in a lot of yelling and tension… though that wasn’t unusual. Every day of Ahuva’s life was a battle—against her siblings, her parents, and herself.

It wasn’t difficult. Any little comment or antic could set any member of her family off. Money… clothes… school… it didn’t matter what the topic was, somebody was sure to find it a sore one. Ahuva had trained herself to speak only when spoken to. She learned to stop complaining about the broken plumbing, the cracks in the walls and the lack of lighting in her home. Her family of eight had been living like this for as long as Ahuva could remember… though there had been a time when they lived in peace, comfort and relatively wealthy.

But a bad business deal from her father’s company had sent Ahuva’s family plummeting into bankruptcy. Her father lost all respect anyone had ever had for him and other partners and companies pulled out of doing business with him. In one night they had gone from the most respected family in the community to one of the most scorned. Ahuva went to school each day wearing the exact same thing she had worn the day before… laundry was done once a month and she and her siblings were expected to keep their clothes clean as long as possible. If not, they would have to wear dirty clothes. New clothes had ceased to be bought. Food was rationed. Electricity was barely used. Luxuries liked computers or CDs were sold long ago to pay for that which they barely had or used.

Too upset and too awake to go back to sleep, Ahuva decided to go for a walk. She pulled on her worn, hole-filled boots, her two year old coat and left her apartment. The descending staircase leading her outside smelled of smoke, old socks and too-sweet perfume—such was one of the sorrows of living in a building with other “interesting” people. Ahuva remembered when she had her own room, her own wing of her own house! How far she had fallen… how low her family had sunk.

The cold wind was like a million little knives stabbing her skin. Ahuva didn’t even try to block the cold. She was too busy trying to hold back her tears. These midnight walks were normal for her. She would fall asleep, dead tired from a seemingly endless day of stress, drift into a deliriously wonderful dream, wake up and be hit, head on, with the reality of her life. It was difficult to come to terms with, yet impossible to ignore: she went to sleep with the heat off. She could only use the water in her apartment sparingly. Showers were taken only twice a week, and even then, they had to be quick. The longer the shower, the larger the leak would be from the worn out bath lining… six siblings, two parents, one shower and a very strict schedule. Anyone who deviated from those rules went to bed hungry—punishment for wasting money, and simply for not listening to the rules.

It wasn’t as if her parents did this to be cruel dictators and money pinchers. In fact, there was no money to pinch. Ahuva’s parents were trying to make do with practically nothing. The Gemachs tried to help out but Ahuva’s father was too proud—or to distraught from his situation—to accept anything. Ahuva’s mother would accept the charity without her husband knowing, trying to alleviate the pain the children felt… but it was a pathetic attempt.

Yitz and Doniel, Ahuva’s older twin brothers were forced to leave their prestigious yeshiva because it cost too much in tuition to continue going. Ahuva and her sister Esther could no longer keep up with the fashions like their friends did. Because of familial connections to their high school, they were able to stay, but felt the pressure of staying at a cut cost. They had to uphold perfect grades or they could wave goodbye to their school. Ahuva’s younger siblings, Devora, Reuvein, and Yoel, suffered the most. Children can be cruel and to these three siblings, they were no exception. Blunt comments, hurled insults and savage cruelty faced them every day as they tried to face middle and elementary school in rags.

Ahuva sucked in the cool air. She kept hoping that if she went out on these walks, someone would take pity on her and take her in to their home, and adopt her and… she kept dreaming and wishing, but that was all it was to be. Ahuva continued walking until she couldn’t feel her fingers. Finally, she turned to go back into her apartment. Before she even pulled open the door, she was hit with a full force realization—what if things never change? The strength of that question pulled her down. She fell onto the cold cement steps, clutched her legs close to her chest and began sobbing copious tears. In all the time since her father’s downfall, Ahuva never cried. She accepted each trauma she faced throughout the ordeal as simply part of the bigger picture… all the little pieces fitting together into one portrait depicting a part of her life… yet, another night in the cold made her realize that things could really stay the same.

“What will be?” she whispered through choked sobs. Her throat felt thick as she tried to hold back her tears. The city lights around her apartment shone brightly, yellows and reds with the occasional neon pink and green, all shining in the night. Ahuva stared up at them like a small child staring up at the stars. The neighborhood she lived in now was devoid of any natural stars—the buildings, stores and offices did a good job of blocking them out. Occasionally Ahuva could see the moon peeking through the buildings but it was always fleeting. Some other unnatural light would come along and block out the moon.

But the stars… it was the stars she missed the most. In her old neighborhood where her house had a sprawling yard, trees and plenty of space to stretch out and watch the stars, Ahuva would spend her nights staring up at the sky, admiring the small twinkling lights. Here in the crowded city, Ahuva couldn’t recapture her youthful ways of watching the stars. The very corporations that had stolen her father’s dignity now blocked any shred of hope she had with their massively hideous buildings.

A siren in the distance brought Ahuva back from her far off thoughts of a different life. She knew she would never regain her fairytale life of fancy dresses and pretty parties. It would take thousands of dollars to put her family back to where they were before they fell into this dark oblivion… Ahuva just hoped she would last in her dire predicament, long enough to see the brighter side of her sad life… and maybe to see the stars, those brighter lights, once more.