My Kitchen Table – A Rosh Hashanah Reflection

We began in a small apartment, opening our doors to students with warmth, homemade meals, and a vision of creating a Jewish home away from home. From there, we moved into our own home, and later into our first Chabad House. Each step was another brick in building a Jewish home for the University of Chicago students and the vibrant Hyde Park Jewish community.

Now, after years of dreaming and planning, we are blessed to be nearing the completion of a beautiful new building, complete with a mikvah and all the amenities that will make it a true center for Jewish life. For nearly 25 years, we have had the privilege of sharing the light of Torah and mitzvot with students and neighbors, a blessing we treasure every day.

And in an unexpected way, one of the final steps of this project, choosing the furniture, sparked the reflection that follows.

Over Labor Day, while shopping with our daughter Mussie, who also works with us on campus running JGrads, our graduate student division, she excitedly texted me that the sales were fantastic. As she browsed for Chabad furniture, she decided to treat herself to something personal, a new kitchen table and chairs.

Her excitement made me pause. My own kitchen table has been with us since we got married, our very first table, almost 27 years ago. It has stood in our kitchen, a silent witness to our daily routines, the backdrop to countless meals, late-night conversations, homework sessions, family gatherings, and birthday celebrations. It has held pots and pans straight from the stove, coloring books and markers scattered across its surface, and endless crumbs from challah and cookies. It bears scratches, stains, dents, and burn marks, the imprints of life well lived. And I thought it was finally time for me to get a new one, too.

Not long after, our married daughter Estie, who lives in Florida, called. She said, “Mommy, I heard Mussie bought herself a new kitchen set while shopping for the Chabad House. That got me thinking…we’ve been in our house for over a year, and we still don’t have proper dining room chairs. Maybe it’s time for us to get new chairs and furniture, too!”

It seemed everyone was suddenly in a “new furniture” frame of mind. Inspired, I began browsing kitchen tables of my own and nearly clicked purchase. But when I mentioned it to my husband, he gently stopped me. “Why get a new table? This one is special. Every mark tells a story: the crayons from little hands, the pot burns from Shabbat meals, the scratches from years of family gatherings. This table holds our history.” His words sparked a conflict within me, the pull between the excitement of the new and the security of the familiar.

When I shared my idea with our children, they were unanimous: “How could you, Mommy? That table is our childhood. If you get rid of it, we’ll miss it forever.” Their words echoed what I was starting to feel, reminding me how much we value our memories and the time we spend together.

So I stopped. And I thought. And I realized my family was right. For now, I’ll keep my kitchen table. It may not be shiny or stylish, but it holds nearly three decades of love, family, and blessings.

As we approach Rosh Hashanah, I’ve been reflecting on how life is always a mix of old and new. The new is exciting, like the fresh furniture filling our new Chabad House, ready to welcome students for generations to come. But the old holds our roots, our stories and our values. Even with their scratches and stains, they give us the strength to step forward into what’s next.

My kitchen table reminds me that as we step into new beginnings, it’s just as important to hold on to the treasures that have carried us here. With the new year starting, that feels like the perfect balance, moving forward while still embracing the past.

Shana Tova!