A Shabbat With Maayan

Maayan was home for Shabbat. She lives in Jerusalem, so every time she comes is like a gift, a surprise.

I love all three of my kids, and each one is special to me in his or her own way. Maayan is my oldest. The firstborn. Our firstborn are special children because we make most of our mistakes with them and the kids that come along later on benefit from our experience. Maayan was my teacher. She was the child that taught me how to be a father.

She was an only child for the first 9 years of her life and she was our unequal partner during those first hard years when we came here and scratched a farm out of virgin wasteland. When there wasn't enough money and not enough time. When Yael and I had to hitch to work before dawn and Maayan would wake herself up, get ready and get herself out on time to catch the bus to first grade.

I don't know when she had a childhood, but I know it was short and I wish I would have been there to share it with her. When Netanel and Odelia came along Maayan became their third parent. She never got to be a sister like other girls; she never had to compete or share or fight for her place at the table, but she was the one that changed diapers and fixed their lunch when they came home from preschool. In a way, with Maayan I feel like a thief. I didn't steal her childhood from her, but nevertheless she didn't really have one. I don't feel like a thief because I took something from her as much as I stole it from myself.

So now that I'm older and wiser, I treasure a Shabbat with Maayan. Before long she will move along with her life, and I want her to. But for now, for a little while longer, I am still the man in her life. I'm smart enough now to realize what a treat that is, what a privilege, is a Shabbat with Maayan.