Contact Info Sara Fryd
520-909-0270
sfryd@yahoo.com
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Hello, welcome, sit a spell, thank you for your visits. Tea, coffee, hot chocolate anyone?
Përshëndetje, مرحبا, Привет, Hola, Zdravo, Ahoj, Hej, Hallo, Tere, maligayang pagdating, hei, bonjour!, Ola, Guten Tag!, γεια σου, שלום, हैलो, hello, halo, ciao!, sveiki, labas, hallo, سلام, witaj, Olá, salut, здороваться, здраво, ahoj, zdravo, ¡hola!, hej, สวัสด ี, merhaba, привет, xin chào
All of you who stop for a visit, read my missives, then leave me notes of joy or wonder, know that I am grateful for you beyond measure, beyond words. The gifts we have received of writing, reading, being able to share with each other on this heartfelt level will surely shift the world. Gratefully, I say a prayer for you all. May we all know a world of peace.
I belong to a Holocaust Survivors email list that travels around the globe online helping Survivors find other Survivors. More than six years ago I received an email about a young man who wanted to start a library in Cracow, Poland and needed help filling the shelves with Jewish books. Seems he was raised Christian to save his life. Finding out as an adult that his biological parents were Jewish, he was determined to make this happen.
As much as I love my books, I’ve learned to share over the years and this seemed extremely important. I boxed up a huge box of books that included my college freshman Children’s Literature anthology (that was 30 years old) and my Bat Mitzvah prayer book (which was even older). Books are one of my great loves, so there were many books that had been on my shelves for many years.
It was important I told myself and left for the Post Office, almost leaving when they asked me to fill out a huge amount of paperwork for custom’s reasons. Never heard anything, assumed my good deed was in a black hole somewhere at the bottom of the Atlantic.
While casually searching Google the other night for the three blogs I’ve created, to see what is being sent out to the universe (by me), I came upon this website in Poland which had my name attached. Being unbelievably curious and not knowing Polish, I used Google translator. Copy, paste, click, read. Copy, paste, click, read. I had no idea what happened to my book box until now. On Google.com it says ”darczyncy” and my name. The Rabbi Remuh Jewish Library was established in June 2005 and it is the only Jewish Library in Cracow open to everyone. 
I am listed as a donor. OMG was all I could pray through all the tears. What makes this so special is my Dad Berek Nathan was born in Warsaw. His entire family – brothers, sisters, parents, aunts, uncles died in the Holocaust. He was the only living survivor. Saving himself by running to the forest while the Nazis were kicking his brother to death in the streets of Poland. He was 15. Berek Nathan died August 2005 at age 87.
A Painter’s Daughter, Benny, and Papa Pirate are posted here amongst all these writings as a small tribute to him. He was my Hero. At least some of his books are back in Poland at a Jewish Library where they always belonged.
All rights reserved. ©2009 by Sara Fryd
*With special thanks to Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī, the Sufi poet (red) for his exquiste poem and Basia Or-Rafael for her teachings. Certainly it did not need my help (brown), though I added a few lines to it this morning.
Become the sky…
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Escape…
Walk…
Out like someone suddenly born again
Do it now…
Walk into colors – chartruese, cerilian, tangerine.
Leap magenta mountains
Swim seafoam seas
Escape, become, walk, leap, swim, be!
*It is noted I did NOT write this story. I’ve heard many variations, nevertheless it is still a great story.
A very religious man who had followed God’s commandments his whole life found himself living in a house on the banks of a river that was rising. It was raining hard and all predictions were for bad flooding. The banks of the river were rising and coming into his home. The water was gushing in quickly.
He thought I will be all right “God will save me.”
First the town’s fire truck came for him. His friend the fire chief called, “Bob, come on climb aboard. It’s rising fast, we need to evacuate everyone. Hurry up, Bob!”
“No, no”, he said, “I will be all right God will save me.”
Next the Coast Guard boat came for him. “Come on, climb aboard. It’s rising fast, we need to evacuate everyone. Hurry up, Bob!”
“No, no”, he said, “I will be all right God will save me.”
Then Bob was on the roof of his house, when a helicopter came for him dropping the basket down and he refused to climb in saying, “That’s okay, I’ll wait here. God will save me.”
Bob dies drowning as the water is now higher than the roof and when he gets to heaven he gets really mad and says to God, “I was a good man my whole life, a good religious man. How then could you let me drown like that?”
God smiles and responds, “What do you mean? I sent you a fire truck, a boat, and a helicopter. We all couldn’t get you to leave your house.”
 You didn’t call last night
like you promised
I cried myself to sleep…
If only you understood
the subtleties
that teach each of us
to trust or not.
You would never again
make me a promise
you did not intend to keep.
Knowing…
That I’m trusting you with my heart.
Then leave me waiting…
Waiting…
Like you did last night
to cry myself to sleep.
All rights reserved. ©2009 by Sara Fryd
They say you pick your friends to be a mirror
Then I must have a side that’s warm and free
Look at me in navy skirts with parochial blouses
Long flowing skirts in flowers of spring is what she sees
For all my shyness she’s outgoing, an explorer
Where my weaknesses lie, she becomes strong
She listens to all of my words unspoken
Never judging my feelings as wrong
Underneath she’s a bowl of green jello
The smallest injustice, brings her to her knees
Though she’ll tell you she’s a crusty old lady
Inside she’s a red gingham cowgirl like me
All rights reserved. ©2009 by Sara Fryd
 Why is it
some men need to be
played like violins
to accomplish
the same task
one could get a woman to do
merely by asking?
Seems like such a
waste of energy
to have to massage egos,
and climb walls
before getting to the
truth of it all.
Competition excites
challenges for a while,
Though in the end it burns bridges
and breaks hearts.
When ultimately
aren’t we all…
…on the same side?
All rights reserved. ©2009 by Sara Fryd
*From guest author William C. Ross whose unique poetry can be read on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1850363361 Be friend him for a real treat!
All rights reserved. ©2010 by William C. Ross
THROW ME A CURVE
High fashion models just bore me to tears.
They’re frontless up front with no obvious rears.
Give me a beauty who is pleasingly plump,
Somewhat voluptuous with a well-rounded rump.
Call it “ample” or “robust” if you’re veddy, veddy British,
And “zaftig”* is the word if you understand Yiddish.
But whether it’s from pizzas or latkes or scones,
What I want is a woman with some meat on her bones.
Begone with the wraith of the starvation diet.
Hail to the sneaker of bon-bons on the quiet.
I give thanks for this blessing sent down from above:
There is simply that much more of you for me to love.
*full-bodied, well-proportioned (juicy)
You came to me
like a dream in the night
awakening a soul.
Jesus, with Caribbean eyes
the color of the water
off the coast of St. Barts
reflecting up
from the railing of the ship.
A most curious space
spent dissecting motives
answering questions
left wondering
who you were, who sent you
and why?
All rights reserved. ©2009 by Sara Fryd
It takes courage to stand tall
when we feel our wounds so visible
worried that all will witness our pain…
Courage and bravery…
strength beyond words.
You present yourself with such grace
with such dignity, head held high
turning your face to the light
letting the sun warm your soul
knowing that you have…
God’s blessings at your finger tips.
For God lives next to a rose bush.
Every prayer a new rose.
Every hurtful thought a thorn.
If we are willing…
we replace our hurtful thoughts
with thoughts of joy.
We can carry with us
the strength of the thorn
the beauty of the rose
And we are never, ever alone.
All rights reserved. ©2009 by Sara Fryd
*Note: Years ago I was invited to a friends wedding and advised in advance that the Mother of the Bride had recently been left for a younger women. The Father was coming to his daughter’s wedding with his new bride. I included this poem with a thank you note for inviting me.
In a world of strangers
 ©2010 by Howard Paley Where we haven’t ever met
I bow to your greatness
Am I lucky enough to get wet
For when creative thunder
Hits so close to home
Be it a painting, a story, or photo
Even an infinitesimal poem
Then genuine arms of greatness
Surround with a certain lure
Creative genius, one brushing another
We can and are secure
Each sees the world with special eyes
That choose to share our hearts
Creating global connections
Glue that never comes apart
All rights reserved. ©2010 by Sara Fryd
From this safe place
 ©2010 by Howard Paley My window…
My perch, my abode
Shut in securely behind glass
I spy, I see, I peer
At those that venture out
Courageous ones
Willing to take on the world
Unafraid…
Not shy, nor quiet nor
A little scared like me…
All rights reserved. ©2010 by Sara Fryd
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Books on Amazon Woodruff the Chili Dog
https://www.createspace.com/3429628
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