I put down the bread and the cup and get up on my knees, twisting a little. I pull up my shirt so she can see my wound. She gives it a sympathetic frown. “I can clean that.” She gets up and goes for something. When I was a kid and skinned my knee or…
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Midrash
Midrash: Not Allowing the Text to Turn into Stone
“The rabbis, when they read, walk into the text. They bring themselves to it and step across the edge of the scroll onto its body, bouncing a little, believing it will hold their weight. And then on hands and knees crawl through the furrows of words, examining, brushing away dirt, not unlike a botanist examining…