Dating for orthodox jews
When I moved to Brooklyn and saw no women wearing tichels—wigs and hats had become the fashion—I’d stopped this practice but couldn’t bring myself to throw out the scarves.
Two sukkah seasons later, I met my future husband—another writer—at my artist group.And I discovered that if I could build a sukkah, just maybe I could build a self. Fw-300 #ya-qn-sort h2 /* Breadcrumb */ #ya-question-breadcrumb #ya-question-breadcrumb i #ya-question-breadcrumb a #bc .ya-q-full-text, .ya-q-text #ya-question-detail h1 html[lang="zh-Hant-TW"] .ya-q-full-text, html[lang="zh-Hant-TW"] .ya-q-text, html[lang="zh-Hant-HK"] .ya-q-full-text, html[lang="zh-Hant-HK"] .ya-q-text html[lang="zh-Hant-TW"] #ya-question-detail h1, html[lang="zh-Hant-HK"] #ya-question-detail h1 #Stencil . If I couldn’t wear them, at least the sukkah would. My funky tichel sukkah became the hit of the block, no easy feat in a street of at least 20 festival booths. All in all more than 50 people passed through my sukkah.The kids, Hasidic, Yeshivish, Jewish, goyish, all stopped in, ate my cookies, and said how great it was. A couple got engaged in that sukkah (though they later divorced).
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But that fall more than 20 years ago, I knew in my marrow that something had to change. But somehow, with the help of people I literally pulled off the streets, I did it.