Growing up in an Orthodox Jewish home - cont.
From that day on, I read every book around the house. I began with the children's books, but was soon done with those, as they didn't contain much text, and so I turned to the rest of the books around the house. I devoured every piece of paper like a starving wolf. My home didn't contain many books, beside religious books and medical guides, so after learning all there was to know about the rabbinical laws and all the possible illnesses the human body can experience as well as the common treatments, I turned to the local library.
Although thinking was frowned upon, my parents, unaware of the danger it held to their way of thinking (Possibly because both of them were in their early twenties, and too young to understand), gave me permission to read all the books in the library. Mind you, it was a religious library, so the selection of books was indeed limited.
In the meanwhile, my eyes grew wider, and so did my mind. But I was not satisfied!
"Clear the table please, and wash the dishes!" I remember my mother commanding. We had just finished our dinner. My father, who was hardly ever around because he worked long hours at his office, retired to his armchair to read the local newspaper, and my brothers ran to play. I was left to clean up after them, while they seemed to ignore my very existence. I felt humiliated, but did what I was told.
My mother was not very close to me; mostly because she didn't have the time to give me proper attention. She cleaned the house obsessively, making sure everything was always tidy and spotless; probably because it was my father's idea, and so hers, that this was the meaning of being a good housewife.
She was always in the kitchen too, cooking something. She began preparations for the Sabbath on Thursday already...
Stay blessed, and stay tuned,
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