Beshert |“A Fiddler on the Roof. Sounds Crazy, No?”
Twenty years ago, I fell in love with The Fiddler. You know who I mean, right? That ubiquitous guy on the roof?
The memory of our first encounter is so vivid that I can tell you exactly where I was and what I was doing the moment I recognized him.
It happened on a Saturday morning in Nice, France. My husband, Richard, and I were on a long-delayed vacation. We had spent most of Friday at the Marc Chagall Biblical Message Museum. I went in expecting to see flowers and birds and flying lovers, paintings that would be easy on the eyes and even easier on the brain. But what I actually found inside were soul-stirring images of Abraham welcoming three strangers, Jacob wrestling with the Angel, and Moses parting the Red Sea. On my way out,...
