“Dad, look! There’re new kids moving in next door! Looks like there are four children, I guess we will have new neighbors!” I yelled.
“Sarah, come in now, we need to have dinner.” My dad replied causing me not to be able to see any of the family members. All these questions ran through my mind. Are they nice? Is she pretty? What shul will they go to? Do they keep the laws of the Sabbath? Kosher? What about the laws of Tzniut? There I was at the dinner table, eating as fast as I could to be able to go run outside and meet my new neighbors.
“Sarah do you have any homework?” my dad asked as I tried to avoid that question.
“Dad, you always ask. Have you ever seen a ninth grader not have homework?” I responded. I finished eating and ran outside
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“If it will keep you asleep then yes, what is it?” asked my older sister, Manahil, desperately wanting to go to bed
“You know those new neighbors, did Daddy ever tell you that they’re robbers?” I asked very scared to hear the answer.
“NO way! They just dress like that because they’re Muslims.” I listened to her answer thinking whatever as long as they’re not robbers I’m alright with that, avoiding the fact that I was clueless about what Muslim meant.
“Get up kids we are going to shul!” said my mother as she woke me up.
“Mom can I stay with Shmuli a little while, and meet our new neighbors please?” I asked my mom hoping for the answer to be yes since the shul was two minutes walking distance from my house.
“No, as a matter a fact I want you to stay away from them.” She said strongly.
“Okay fine, but mom I really don't feel well can I just stay in bed?” I asked, as my mother nodded and put me back in bed. As soon as they were out of sight I got dressed and ran downstairs. I could smell the banana bread fresh out of the oven, it was calling me for breakfast. But, I knew if I didn't hurry my mom would catch me in time. I ran out of the house and took a piece of cake with me to my neighbors.
“Hello, welcome to our neighborhood I am Sarah Cohen I live right next door, our house is always welcome to any of you.” I said very nervous
“Muhammad look at these filthy Jews, I told you this neighborhood was full of them!” the mother yelled as she slammed the
“Okay,” I said, not asking anything else. I just had to teach him math and science because his failing grades
"what are you doing kid?" as i heard what she asked of me i kind of wandering around staring in deep thought due from the long extremely aggravating exhausting day of school .
"What?" I asked, 50% shocked, 40% not believing I actually heard what I think I heard, and 10% scared shitless. Only 10% though; I'm not a cry baby.
I would also rethink with the group about what love of neighbors can actually mean in the situation. The embedded thinking that the group has about the issue may be that diverse is a threat to identity. Thus, I would suggest that a better way to preserve Christian identity is to love our neighbors, not to remove differences from the community. It would be also good to renew the meaning of works of mercy in the light of Wesleyan tradition. In the case, I found out a kind of paradox among the group represented by Bob, which while they are willing to do an act of charity to their Muslim neighbors, they refuse accepting the way they are. I feel that it is no other than cheap compassion for their neighbors. “As real means of grace they (works of
She switches tactics, “I won’t tell my mom we made pancakes if you play with me.” She notices my hesitation. "For twenty minutes. Then you can do your stupid homework."
“Exactly! Where was your mother?” I asked my question out loud not really expecting her to answer.
“Izzy, why didn't you respond? I'm sorry that you always have to move and can never get to know people in your school long enough to have them has friends.” said Mom.
As I got out of the car, and began to walk to the big front doors of the building he noticed a ton of other kids that looked pretty serious.
“It’s probably Mom asking about if I did my dry cleaning..” she sarcastically muttered to herself.
"Yes, now get on your knees and get your hands in there," Dad replied. "besides, you haven 't done it yet and your seventeen summers in now. You 'll have to do this when I 'm dead and gone, now get to it."
“I asked her if she need help with directions because she looked lost” she replied.
“Bye mom,” I said as I started out the front door on my way to school.
I banged again louder this time. “I’m the new landlord, come to pick up the rent.”
“I said, ‘I need to get going.’ It’s getting late and my parents will start to worry.”
Is that the time? I have to get going. Come on, you don't have to go. It's a small place, and I don't want... the children to get upset when they see me in the morning.