Once everyone had arrived

Do You Know The Power Of Your Stories? by Lisa Bloom
It is usually a time of reflection and repentance...a time of celebration and awareness...and above all, a time to get together and eat!
As a child I remember the excitement of the Jewish New Year. The table would be set beautifully and candles lit, the room would dance with the reflection. The smell of the traditional dishes that would later be devoured would fill the house and we would wear something new; often a blouse or new skirt, sometimes our winter shoes. The clothes were always stiff and too warm but I loved the smell of the starchy newness and the excitement that winter was drawing close and the days becoming shorter.
Once everyone had arrived, the food was ready and the pre-dinner drinks for the adults and older teens were drunk, we would move to the dining room. The blessings were made; the pomegranate or other new fruit that had not yet been eaten this year, the apple dipped in honey that would dribble across the plate, over the table cloth and down your chin, the bread also dipped in honey with the salt temporarily left aside until after the holiday.
There was always interesting conversation at the table. My two grandmothers would frown at our brazenness as we often guided the conversation to shock them and make them blush. My parents always loved a lively conversation and my father would reach for a book of reference if he needed to win an argument. Someone would not listen to someone else and then everyone would yell at them and take sides. Usually a stranger at the table would fascinate us with a story of a different country or tradition that we had never heard of before, sometimes it would be a joke or magic trick.
There were always 3 courses of food during the meal; each more delicious than the last. I don't ever remember wanting to leave the table. As the youngest, I always wanted to be a part of the conversation, not to miss a word and to be seen as old enough to have something interesting to say. Maybe that's why I started telling stories,of abandonment! We would say Grace After Meals and my father would compliment my mother on the delicious food and then tell her "I'll keep you for another week". My mother would give him the look, the combination of,1875 Ugg Sheepskin Cuff Short Black Boots, don't push your luck mate, and any chance of an original joke?
And we would all clear the table, the girls would wash the dishes while my mother made the coffee and brought it out with the after 8 mints to the living room. While we washed the dishes we would often sing. When I think about it now,As you move through your life, it sounds like a storybook, but it really was like this. Of course, there were times that we fought about who's washing and who's drying, we'd get irritated with each other and not want to help at all,so you need and desire the education to succeed..
Now I create the magic of Rosh HaShanna for my own kids. I don't know if they'll remember it the way I do. I don't know if it will seem so magical that it's seems almost unreal. All I can do is be thankful for the wonderful blessings of my own memories and hope that I can pass the stories and magic on.
Happy New Year to you all - may you have a healthy, joyful and sweet year with fulfillment, gratitude, abundance and lots of wonderful stories.