Sarah Tuttle-Singer
A Mermaid in Jerusalem

To whiskey neat and messy hair and other daily miracles

To whiskey neat and messy hair and and a smile floating in my coffee

A toast, if I may to this Sweet New Year:

To whiskey neat and messy hair. To laughing til you’re torn in two, with tears rolling down your cheeks.  To tasting them as they fall, sweet and salty, you.

To strong coffee, and stronger friends.

To yellow flowers that make you smile.

eli flower

To the fruits of of this earth that change with each season: To pomegranates, and to clementines; to strawberries, and to mangoes.


To the bank teller who always smiles. To the barista who draws a smiley face on your latte foam. To the stranger at the grocery check-out who let you go ahead of them in line because they could see you were in a hurry.


To soft rain when the sun shines, when you look around wet and dazzled and realize: Holy shit, I’m standing in the middle of the rainbow.


To that “OMG, this is SO my song” moment when you’re stuck in traffic, or in line at the bank, or simply in an elevator and there it is, that song, YOUR song, and you just have to dance in a cosmic spiral.


To being brave when the lights go out, to finding a match or a flashlight — yes, there’s an app for that — and you can handle this no matter what.

To the children in our lives who teach us how to look for snails, or marvel at the way sun skims off the sea, or just how  important an ice cream is on a hot summer day, or how a mug of hot chocolate and whipped cream is a necessity in the middle of winter.


To the cracks in our hearts left by living, to the rifts forged through pain and experience, to those spaces where the light gets in.

And to all the miracles that happen every day when you simply wait for them with your eyes and arms and heart wide open.

What are you grateful for? Please share in the comments, or message me on Facebook.

About the Author
Sarah Tuttle-Singer is the author of Jerusalem Drawn and Quartered and the New Media Editor at Times of Israel. She was raised in Venice Beach, California on Yiddish lullabies and Civil Rights anthems, and she now lives in Jerusalem with her 3 kids where she climbs roofs, explores cisterns, opens secret doors, talks to strangers, and writes stories about people — especially taxi drivers. Sarah also speaks before audiences left, right, and center through the Jewish Speakers Bureau, asking them to wrestle with important questions while celebrating their willingness to do so. She loves whisky and tacos and chocolate chip cookies and old maps and foreign coins and discovering new ideas from different perspectives. Sarah is a work in progress.