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Look at the stars

When I broke the back window of a minivan I hated, my husband replaced it. Replaced the back window? No. He replaced the minivan. He got me a brand new SUV. “For the holidays," he said.

But then came the real present. You see, for years my husband and I had written each other love notes and left them around the house. Lipstick on a mirror. Sponge letters on the bathroom wall. Cardboard notes on top of the trash bin. Licorice candy broken up to make a word. Words traced with our fingers in the sugar of the kitchen container. Toast cutouts. Artificial rose petals left around the house. I like to pretend the top of a fresh pineapple is “Hawaiian mistletoe” and I hold it over my head while making the disclaimer.

This was different.

When this present came, it was a license plate. It said “SHMILY." I actually had that plate for years. Most people thought it meant I smiled a lot. No. SHMILY. It has an “h” in it.

Makara, sometimes our biggest mistakes lead to greater blessings than our good deeds. On those days I believe G-d is saying as my husband had inscribed on that license plate:

“See How Much I Love You.”


“Everything happens for the good of the believer.” Romans 8:28

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