A few days ago, my younger sister got married. From the moment she got engaged, I could not get out of my mind the bitter taste of the Shabbat Sheva Berachot we celebrated a year earlier for the sister before her. I felt that I simply did not have the strength to go through another Shabbat like that.
Another Shabbat in which my autistic son Shlomo knocks tables over, stains the clothing of the kallah and the guests when he spills a bottle of cola or oily matbouha tomato salad, knocks down the mechitzah with a boom, fortunately only slightly wounding the mechutan’s foot, and screams at the top of his lungs precisely when the chatan begins to speak… Continue reading Impossible Dilemma? Solved.




