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My Four Walls

Bassi Kohn

As though I had given her the key to my treasure box, Bracha would grab my hand and we’d fly out of the house together

Thursday, October 13, 2016


Photo: Shutterstock

Bracha, my best childhood friend, was also my complete opposite. 

She’d come bouncing into my house on a Shabbos afternoon and find me sitting on the couch where I was always cuddled with a book. She’d plop down next to me, shaking the cushions a bit. 

“Hi,” she’d say. 

I’d pick my eyes up off the page I was devouring. “Hi,” I’d answer. 

Then my eyes would go back to my book. 

Bracha would sit tight for about three seconds. 

Then she’d shift her legs up and down on the carpet, first one then the other. She’d push herself further to the back of the couch. Stick her hand down the side of the cushions. Twirl her pony. Cough. And finally she’d lean over to see which page I was reading. 

“Stop,” I’d say, hugging the book toward me. 

“Humph!” Bracha would say, falling against the back of the couch. “When are you ever going to be done reading? I want to go out.” 

So I’d close my book and put it down on the coffee table. “Okay,” I’d say, because Bracha was my friend and she had come to visit. “Where do you want to go?” 

As though I had given her the key to my treasure box, Bracha would grab my hand and we’d fly out of the house together.

She’d throw open the front door and we would go, go, go! 

But not before I’d look back to give my book one final, longing glance… 

With all the places in the world I love to go, home is always the place I’d rather be. 

When my friends plan a Motzaei Shabbos ice cream party, I usually join and have a great time, but I need to be convinced. 

I’m the one my sister always admonishes. “You have to get out of the house!” she says. 

I smile. “Yeah, you’re right,” I say. I don’t even bother trying to explain to my sister, the goer, how much I enjoy my time just sitting, just being at home. 

I’m afraid it sounds strange. Does it? 

Probably to some of you, but surely not to others. 

Are some of you nodding your heads as you read this, thinking, Finally! Someone who understands?! 

I hope so. I hope I’m not the only person in the world who relishes nothing more than just sitting within the four walls of my home reading, relaxing, and just being myself without worrying about what others are thinking. 

You see, in the four walls of my house I can sing at the top of my lungs. 

I can dance across the kitchen floor. 

I can sit on the couch with a pile of books as deep as the ocean. 

I can drink grape juice mixed with lemon juice. 

I can wear my favorite, colorful socks all day. 

I can also do normal things, like cook and clean and talk on the phone (yes! I do enjoy spending time with other people!) 

But my home, the place where I love to be, is like a charger, rejuvenating my soul.

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