How Little It Takes

 

Maybe just a ginkgo leaf falling into your lap? The winds of winter are blowing hard. Making me feel a little homesick and lonely. On my way home from errands, I spontaneously stop at the outdoor latke tent at Saul’s. This decision seems random, but it highlights my vague longing for comfort. Last day of Hannukah, dusk is falling fast. Solstice with its longest night. A warm rain storm to arrive soon. Everyone I am encountering today is kind. The tired cook fetches the last hot latke for me and asks if I like applesauce and sour cream. Yes, I do. He is generous with the applesauce, just the way I like it. I meander over to the bench to devour this snack which makes me feel home. An elder gray-haired gentleman sits there, quietly waiting for his take-out order. He looks kind.

Me, an elder white-haired lady, completely absorbed in my latke delight, my own small world. Taking bites from the crunchy treat which is cooling down fast. Savoring. Entranced by tastes of potato, grease, salt, sweet apple, dreamy cream – fragrant, promising. Left out of the buzz of the world, yet cozy and comforted. Time is blowing through me. Eating with my hands, fingers greasy. Decades of wandering in the world, between the worlds – alone and yet hardly ever lonely – slow river of lucid dreams. With each swallow, memories of food come flowing….

My Mama’s Kartoffelpuffer (latke), my brother’s Quarkkuchen (curd cake), heirloom Jonathan apples, hot roasted chestnuts in Papiertüte (paper bag), warm beignet at the beach near Biarritz, Grießbrei mit Zimt (semolina pudding with cinnamon). Sharing Elisen Lebkuchen (special Ginger bread) with my Papa in his last half year. The raspberries and deliciously tangy Johannisberen (red currents) of my sister’s garden.  She leaves these June treasures on the wooden plate for my breakfast. All that back then when I used to still be able to visit the old country and re-enter America safely. It's been a while. The heart aches. Heimweh. The wind picks up again. With a light drizzle now. Out of nowhere – a ginkgo leaf, brushing my cheek, tumbles onto the plate which I am holding beneath my chin. Same color as the almost vanished latke, golden yellow browned. A tender caress, waking me into even more delight. Softly I sigh, smiling at the special visitor. How did you find your way here onto my paper plate? Ginkgo wisdom, a gift. How lucky I am. This year the ginkgo trees are losing their golden load very late and reluctantly.

Me too, I cannot easily shake off these past months’ ongoing horror show of the State. Its violent spectacle of great dismantling, firing, brutalizing, terrorizing. Disappearing workers, caregivers, family members, kids, loved ones. In my morning prayers, practicing to not separate myself from the suffering of the immigrant communities. Me, too, i am an immigrant. This, too, is life in America. The children’s fear of suddenly losing their parents and protectors. These cruelties have severe impacts on so many communities and families across the country. In the mornings, I spend time praying for each terrified mother who must pick up her child from school on her way home. Everywhere risks and huge danger. Each trembling father as he drives his pregnant wife to the hospital. To work, to school, to church. Each scared child that needs to barricade the bedroom door at night. So much fear, violation and pain. The indecency and inhumanity ordered from above, belongs to us, too. It is not far from us, and it should never become normal. Human rights abuses, lawlessness, war, here at home or abroad, are not acceptable to the soul and heart. On the longest darkest nights, I dance in prayer – the sun will rise again....

After a while, I slowly get up to throw my plate in the recycling bin. Ginkgo leaf stays with me. The waiter loudly shouts “George?...George!” As I turn, the gentleman from the bench passes by, smiling knowingly at me, carrying now a swollen bag of food to bring home for family. I nod, smiling in return. A moment ago, we were sharing the same bench, in silence, not looking at each other. Alas, I was not alone with my latke pleasure. Two strangers sharing an ephemeral secret. This soothes my Heimweh. How little it takes. A latke, the silent presence of a kind stranger, no words, just smiles, and a ginkgo leaf blessing. We are all one, says ginkgo.

 

The delights we are gifted are here to make us strong, so we can acknowledge and help those alone and suffering on Nochebuena. May we find courage and heart.

Let us pray and protect. Let us dance and delight.

The sun will rise…

 

Look at this beautiful example of personalizing the lawlessness of State:

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/dec/20/los-angeles-public-art-trump-ice-raids

 

Heimweh = longing for family, home sickness

Liebe = love

...how little it takes...