Holy Week’s divergent emotions

I must have been about 10 or 11 when I first visited a synagogue. Our Sunday school teacher had arranged the tour, and the rabbi graciously welcomed our wide-eyed gaggle of juveniles.

Simply by entering, we knew this was a sacred place. We were all eyes and ears taking in the unfamiliar surroundings as the kind rabbi explained the various symbols. I wish I could remember his words. I can never forget the awe…

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Writer, photographer, lover of nature. I write about what I encounter along life's wild and wonderful way. I blog at https://brucestambaugh.com/.

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Bruce Stambaugh

Bruce Stambaugh

Writer, photographer, lover of nature. I write about what I encounter along life's wild and wonderful way. I blog at https://brucestambaugh.com/.

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