Here in Shiloh when a family is sitting shiva, the week's mourning, we take turns helping. Frequently I take "first shift." That's what I did this morning. There wasn't much for me to do. Not everyone was up. The morning service, Shacharit, had already ended and some of the men stayed to talk. A young man neighbor was there doing most things. We worked together making tea and serving.
It's a "Safardic" family, so their custom is to serve something so people will make blessings. There was just some fruit, cookies and soft drinks. Nothing fancy.
The rest of the family woke up. Then a niece came in and she started cooking up a storm, so the family would have breakfast. It ended up that she had been a good friend of one of my daughters. No surprise.
Because of all the family members helping, I didn't have much to do. It was good that the family came. The death was expected, and everyone needed to do something to feel like they were helping. The previous time, after the terror attack, we were all in shock. My neighbor had suffered so much pain in the end, it was a relief when she could rest.
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