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Our Not-So Miracle Ride

Tzipi Caton

What you’re about to read is our 100 percent true story. A not-so Miracle Ride. It’s written with the humor, honesty, and irreverence people have come to expect from Tzipi Caton. But don’t let our smiles fool you. Our pain is real.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

cut out of childI thank the audience for the privilege of addressing them, step off the stage, and head for the exit. I love being Tzipi Caton, but I love being a Mommy more, and my kids are home, waiting.

 

Passing women on my way out, I get thank-yous, and also a lot of personal questions. People don’t mean to intrude; they just think they know me. They read the diary I wrote at sixteen, lived through my cancer journey, and want to see how I’m doing today.

“How many kids do you have, Tzipi?”

“Three, bli ayin hara,” I smile.

“Where do you send them to school?” A gaggle of women are curious.

“Torah Kedoshah.” Shimi is a petite five year old, with curly peyos and something to say about everything.

“And your daughter?”

My eyes search for the door. “She’s in playgroup.”

“Where is she going for nursery?”

 “We haven’t thought about it,” I lie.

“Well you should! It’s hard to get into school these days. It’s all so political.” The women sigh and begin swapping stories.

I nod. I know.

“Ah, well don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll have no problem at all.”

They have no idea. 

 

 To read the rest of this story, please buy this issue of Mishpacha. To sign up for a weekly subscription click here.

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MM217
 
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