#i DO still do marvel g/t dont you worry

[obwjam]

I don’t know why I didn’t do this before, but if you’re still writing marvel g/t could you do another Scott lang one or Bruce Banner one? Maybe x hurt!tiny? They’re both so underrated and are amazing characters. I love your writing 🙂

i’ll do you one better anon: what if i did scott AND bruce with a tiny? yeah i think i’ll go with that

———-

Bruce Banner’s morning started out normal, which maybe should have been his clue that things were going to go spectacularly off the rails. All was quiet at the Avengers complex upstate -- Tony was at some tech conference, Clint and Nat were doing spy business, Thor was in some other realm, Vision and Wanda were cooped up in their rooms upstairs and Steve, Sam and Bucky were off sparring together in a completely different wing of the building. Bruce was on his way down to the lab, and Scott was upstairs, munching on chips and watching TV.

“Chips at 10 in the morning?” Bruce asked with a laugh.

Scott shrugged, stuffing another handful into his mouth. “There was nothing else!”

Bruce, who was standing in front of an open fridge full of food, raised an eyebrow.

“...Nothing else I wanted,” Scott said, his attention turning immediately back to the TV. “Oh my god. Look at that kitchen! Man, can those property brothers design or what! I wonder if I can get them to do my house.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and grabbed the energy drink he came for. It was going to be a long, restless day of calculations and experiments without Tony around to help.

It was just his luck that he would never even get to start.

You had stayed up all night borrowing. It was rare for the complex to be this deserted, but it was your one chance to stock up on everything you needed in one big trip -- food and water from the kitchen, pieces of soap from the bathroom, and everything else you could ever want from the lab downstairs. 

Everything was going great. Nobody had infiltrated the kitchen for a midnight snack. Someone had remembered to replace the soap. And the lab was stocked full of sharp metal for building, flat metal for creating, strings for hooks, and so many screws and nails and bolts. It took over a dozen trips up and down the tables to get everything, and you were just about finished when your greed got the best of you.

You were trying to stuff the most you possibly could inside your bags. They were overflowing. You were on your way down the leg of the table when a few pieces of metal started to slip out your bag.

“No no no no no...” you mumbled. The metal falling out of the bag wasn’t itself a big deal -- it was the noise it would make when it hit the ground that scared you. As you scrambled to stuff the metal back into the bag, your hold on your rope started to slip. You didn’t realize how tired you were until right now, and what turned into you trying to pull yourself up became your muscles giving out and your hand being unable to keep its tight grip.

You tumbled to the ground, which wasn’t that far away, but when you tried to stick the landing, your legs tangled up and you crumpled down. The metal clattered everywhere, making you wince. You waited a moment. No human. Okay. They must not have heard. You sat up, using your arms as support behind you, but when you went to stand, pain shot through your leg and you fell right back down.

Your stomach fell. “No… nononono, this can’t be happening…” 

You forced yourself to stand, keeping your right leg completely straight and dragging it along as you shuffled to the table leg for cover. “No, I gotta get out of here. I can’t--”

You froze at the sound of Bruce bounding down the stairs, cracking open his drink and taking a big sip before slamming the can down on the nearest table. He blinked. Did he just... hear a whimper?

His eyes scanned the room. You were moving as fast as you could, but adrenaline could only push you so far. Your leg throbbed in pain and you cried out as you fell back to the ground again. Your shaking hand flew to your mouth. I’m done for.

Okay, he definitely wasn’t hearing things. That sounded like someone yelling. He took cautious steps forward, hoping not to make too much noise so he didn’t startle whatever he was hearing.

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as the giant started walking toward you, clearly looking for something he had heard. He stopped walking almost right on top of you, and you couldn’t help but gawk up at him towering above you like a skyscraper. The mere thought of being discovered by the human was enough to induce tears, which you desperately tried to push away as you got back up and started moving again.

Bruce heard a choppy breath and froze. That sounded close... but he was standing in the middle of the room. Nothing was behind him, in front of him or beside him... so the only option was... below him.

He looked down and gasped. He had no idea what he was looking at, but he suddenly felt sick. “Holy shit…” he whispered, putting his hands on his knees and leaning down. As soon as he uttered those words, you whipped your head up and around to meet his gaze. For a moment, he was surprised. He felt an influx of nerves when the tiny person stared at him, completely shocked. They looked terrified. 

“H-hey, little guy--” he tried, but you had already turned around and started limping toward the table. Wait… limping.

Bruce, for his part, couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He watched as you ducked behind the cover of the table leg. You knew it wasn’t going to help, but you just needed to get behind something so you could sit down and feel like you were hiding. Bruce felt a pang of pity. Not only was this little thing hurt, they were terrified of him.

“Um...” Bruce couldn’t even begin to formulate words in his head. He bent down, getting on his hands and knees and crawling to the side so he could fully see you. When you locked gazes, Bruce almost looked more nervous than you did. Your whole body was shaking. That’s when he noticed.

“Your leg… it’s bending all the wrong way,” he whispered, almost to himself. You blinked. Even if you wanted to say something, you couldn’t. You knew this giant -- this was one of the scientists who frequented the lab. He didn’t seem as… rough as the other one, but you were pretty sure this was the one who turned into a monster when he got angry. As if he wasn’t big enough already. 

He noticed how you flinched at his words. He felt his heart swell at the tiny movements, yet guilt pierced his stomach at seeing the pure terror you exuded.

“No, no, it--it’s okay,” Bruce stammered, holding his hands up. “Who... what are you?”

Your lips were trembling. How were you even supposed to answer that?

“You’re right. Bad question,” Bruce muttered as soon as he saw your facial expression. “You can understand me though, right?” 

Meekly, you nodded. Bruce smiled softly. “Good, good. Do you, uh... do you need help? Do you...” he trailed off. He took note at how your eyes seemed to be burning as you stared at him in horror. He tried to speak as slow as possible to not startle you any more than he already had.

“Do you have a name?”

Your words got caught in your throat. Part of you wanted to say, but another part stopped you from saying anything. You didn’t need his help. You’d be fine. As long as you could make it back to base...

Pain shot through your leg and you bit your tongue, trying desperately not to make a sound. Bruce stared as you contorted your face. It was clear you were in pain.

“H-here, let me…” he started, reaching his hand out toward you. On instinct, you yelped and scooted back, hugging the table leg for support. No. You couldn’t let him touch you. He would hurt you even more.

“Sorry, sorry!” He stared at your tiny, trembling form, his mind racing. How could he help you? If he were three inches tall and incapacitated on the ground, he wouldn’t want the help of a nervous giant either.

Maybe he couldn’t help, but someone small enough could.

“I’ll be right back!” he shot up, completely missing the way you winced back at his movement. “Don’t--stay right there!” You watched in confusion and fascination as he ran up the stairs. This was your chance! All you needed to do was get up, get your rope and hobble all… the… way… across the room…

Who were you kidding? You could barely even stand without falling right back down. You were trapped. The giant was obviously going to get a jar to put you in to show you off to all the weirdos who lived here. 

This is it, you thought as you began to cry. This is how it ends.

“Scott!”

Scott coughed on his chips and turned around in surprise. “Bruce?” he asked, but it came out sounding like Brrcsh.

“Get your suit.”

“What?”

“Your suit! Your costume. Your… Ant-Man thing.”

“Oh! That suit. What do you need it for?” Scott frowned. “You don’t want to take it apart, do you? Did Tony put you up to this?”

“What-- no! I’ll explain in a minute. Just go get it!”

“Okay, okay!” Scott folded his chip bag and ran upstairs. Bruce was pacing and tapping his finger on the counter when Scott came back down, helmet in hand.

“Wow. You change quick.”

“I’ve been working on it,” Scott grinned. “Now can you tell me what the hell you’re so worked up about?”

“You’re not gonna believe me,” Bruce started, “but down in the lab there’s a tiny person who’s badly hurt but I would hurt them even more if I tried to help and they’re pretty scared of me so I need your help to calm them down.”

Scott blinked, processing what he had just been told. Of all the things in the world that Bruce could have told him, the existence of tiny people wasn’t at all shocking. In fact, Scott had pondered this possibility many times while traversing the world as Ant-Man. Some things were way too conveniently set up for it to be a coincidence. But a tiny person here? In this giant complex full of temperamental superheroes? That was no place for someone so small.

“You really thought I wouldn’t believe you? You know my thing is shrinking, right?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Well, yeah, I-- you’re really just going to accept all that?”

“I can grow and shrink at the press of a button and you turn into a giant green rage monster when you stub your toe. Aliens attacked New York once. This is like, a three out of ten on the surprise scale.”

Bruce stared, waiting to see if Scott would say anything else. He didn’t.

“Well, will you help or not?”

“Of course I’ll help! I guess you need me to--”

“--yeah, if you could just--”

“--okay, okay. Here I go.” Scott slipped his helmet on, pushed the magic button and in an instant, he was three inches tall. Bruce laid his hand down and Scott jumped on, using his thumb for support as Bruce bounded back downstairs.

Your breath hitched when you heard booming footsteps coming back down the stairs. You wished so deeply that you could have escaped, but a part of you knew that could never happen. The giant would probably find you again, anyway. 

You quivered when the giant re-entered your vision. Why did he leave? Was he going to get help? You didn’t see any help. You didn’t see him carrying a jar, either.

That is, until Bruce took a knee next to you and lowered his hand. You gasped and your eyes went wide when a person wearing very odd clothes and a weird looking helmet hopped off his palm and kneeled down next to you.

“Hello! I’m Scott,” the person -- Scott -- said in a cheery demeanor. You didn’t know what was freaking you out more, the silhouette of the giant in the background or Scott sitting a foot away from you. He certainly looked like a borrower... but if there were other borrowers, you would have known about it. And no way a borrower would be hanging out with a bunch of humans. You couldn’t figure out who, or what, he was.

“It’s okay! Don’t freak out,” he said, scooting a bit closer. He felt a pang of guilt at the terrified expression on your face. “I’m--we’re here to help.” He gestured up at Bruce, who gave a small, awkward wave. “That’s Bruce. He’s gonna help us get off the ground. Can I help you up?”

You stared at him in disbelief. They… really wanted to help you?

“Here.” Scott stuck his hand out. You looked at it for a cautious moment before grabbing it and letting him do the hard work of hoisting you up.

“Ow!” you cried as Scott pulled. It was almost impossible to stand. Your face instantly flushed red when both Bruce and Scott shot you a look of surprise after hearing you speak.

“Hold on,” Scott said calmly. He slid his arm underneath your shoulder, acting as support while you tried the best you could to stay standing. You were leaning heavily on him to keep from falling as he stood up fully.

“You got it?”

You nodded, refusing to make eye contact. Your eyes were locked on your two bags beneath the table, scrap metal scattered everywhere. Scott followed your gaze.

“Is that your stuff?” he asked. You froze. You weren’t going to answer that. Scott took note. “Okay, well, we’re going to try and walk now-- woah!” One step forward and you instantly lost your footing. Your stomach dropped as he turned up to Bruce, who was watching intently. “Think you can give us a lift?”

“Oh--sure,” Bruce stammered. He was reluctant to try and bring his hand close to you again. 

“No!” you blurted, instantly regretting it. Scott turned to you.

“No? Why not?”

“B-because…” you tried, but your words failed you when you looked up at Bruce. He was gigantic. One wrong move and he could break you even more than you were already broken. “I…”

“Hey, it’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you. He doesn’t look like it, but he’s really gentle, I promise.”

“Hey!” Bruce protested.

“What? You should see what you look like from down here, man,” Scott shrugged. You were shaking, and Scott could feel it. “You can close your eyes if you want. We just gotta get you off the ground. It’s not safe here.”

You sighed. You knew you had to do this, but it certainly didn’t make it any easier. Following Scott’s advice, you squeezed your eyes tight as you felt the sudden push of a large mass behind you. Knowing this was Bruce’s hand, your arm tightened around Scott’s back as you fell down into his palm, legs dangling as he very slowly stood up. Scott didn’t blink, but even with Bruce going slow, the speed was still dizzying to you. 

Bruce was trying his best not to shake. Not only was he holding Scott, but he had this very hurt, very scared tiny stranger at his mercy, too. This is not how he thought he’d be spending his day.

He gently lowered his hand to the table, but you were in no position to merrily jump off. Scott took instant notice.

“Hold on, let me go get something for you,” he said. You blinked in shock as he jumped off the table and… grew… to full size. This human could shrink himself? Or was he a borrower that could grow? You had never seen him here before.

“Scott! Where are you going?” Bruce asked nervously.

“Just going to get his,” he said, grabbing a clean cloth from a nearby table. He folded it neatly next to you and in an instant, he was tiny again. Were you in so much pain that you were hallucinating?

“Sit on this,” he said, gently lifting you from your spot on the edge of Bruce’s hand to the cloth. You flopped down, grateful to have some soft support for your aching body. Scott took a seat next to you, and Bruce pulled up a chair and bent down to get his face to your level. You eyed him nervously.

“I hope after all this, you feel like you can tell us your name,” Scott smiled. 

You kept your eyes trained on the ground. “I’m… I’m (Y/n),” you said shyly. 

“That’s a nice name,” Bruce said, quietly this time. He frowned when you didn’t even look at him. “What… why are you here? I-in the lab? What happened?”

“I…” you couldn’t believe what was happening. Were you really about to give your whole life story to a giant you met five minutes ago? Well, giants, but one of them was choosing not to be big around you. That had to count for something. And Bruce had gone up to get his help, just to make sure you were okay…

“I-I’m… I live here,” you said so softly, you didn't think Bruce could hear. “In the complex. This is my home. I was… gathering supplies. I--I didn’t want anyone to h-hear me, but… I slipped off my rope going down the table.”

“Oh, man,” Scott muttered. He looked over to where Bruce had spotted the tiny rope contraption. He couldn’t believe he was looking at a shoelace tied to a paper clip. 

“This is what you use to get around?” he asked, pinching the paper clip between his fingers and holding it up. 

“Yeah,” you said sheepishly. It was almost scary how small your rope looked when he held it.

“That’s incredible,” Bruce breathed. “I--I mean, the ingenuity to create something like this, and-and actually use it to climb up and down? That’s really impressive.”

You blushed. He genuinely sounded impressed. “Th-thanks,” you mumbled. 

“What do you need all that scrap metal for?” Scott asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him. 

“Uhm… I use it to… build stuff,” you said plainly. “And to like, cut things and… you know.”

“That’s so cool,” Scott said with a smile. “I don’t think I could ever do what you do. You know, climb up tables and sneak around? Well, I mean, I do do that…” he stopped when he saw your confused expression. “I could never do it for a living, is what I mean.”

“How do you… you know, eat? Or bathe?” Bruce asked.

You shrugged. “I, uh, I just take whatever I can find. Stuff you guys won’t notice is gone.”

“That’s… wow.” Bruce was beside himself. This tiny person was living an entire life out under their noses every single day and he was none the wiser. As happy as he was to have made this discovery, he was even happier at the fact that you weren’t nearly as tense and scared as you were before. “I--I have so many questions!”

You knew the human would want to know everything, but the thought of answering a million questions about your secret life still freaked you out. You gave Scott a nervous glance. He instantly understood.

“Well hey, why don’t we try and patch up your leg and bring you upstairs for some breakfast?” Scott turned to Bruce. “Can we do that? Can we give breakfast to tiny strangers?” 

Bruce smirked. “We can do whatever we want. As long as (Y/n) is okay with it.”

“I can make my world-famous San Fran-cakes!” Scott said excitedly. “Well, world famous might be a stretch. And I guess they’re just plain ol’ pancakes if I’m in New York--”

“Scott…”

“Right, right. Oh, and we could watch TV. Have you ever watched TV? You gotta see what the property brothers can do to a kitchen!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. No, you had never watched TV, and you didn’t know what a property brother was, but maybe now would be a good time to find out.

“(Y/n)?” Bruce had laid his palm down flat beside you. “We’ve got some gauze upstairs. I can try and make you a cast while Scott makes breakfast.”

You stared at his hand, and somehow, that crippling sense of fear you felt before was gone. Maybe it was all overwhelming, and you still didn’t feel like this was all real, but Bruce was kind and Scott had willingly made himself tiny just to calm you down. You were very glad it had worked.

Scott helped you up from the cloth and over to Bruce’s hand, where you situated yourselves between his thumb and held on tight for support. Bruce’s heart skipped a beat.

“Hold on, you two,” he said, slowly standing up. Scott was going on about something completely unrelated, and Bruce was smiling as he kept his hand perfectly steady. Bruce grabbed the cloth with his free hand and in an instant, the junkyard of a lab was just a background. You had never seen it from this angle before. It looked massive and uninviting.

You were glad to leave it behind. Whatever San Fran-cakes were, you were more than excited to try them. 

[stanlees-stuff]

G/t related Blind prompt pt2

alright I'm continuing this, let's go

an unwanted memory from a time mike wants to forget creeps back up to the surface and leaves him speechless.

mike tries to suppress it and focus on keeping calm but the memory only gets louder and louder with the same words repeating in his head over and over again: "Don't go"

"Mama, where are we going?" Mike said curiously as he looked up at the figure. their hand wrapped loosely around his, looking forward as if to pay him no mind.

mike turned his focus to the tall structures towering above him, they looked like a clump of blurs at first view, but as he focused, he'd make out the shape of the leaves and the texture of the bark.

"Are we in the forest?" mike turns his focus back to the lady, "ooh! are we going to pick some berries?" mike adds, eyes wide. the woman continues to walk.

mike's posture slouches and he looks down at his feet as they progressed in silence

As they do, mike looks around at the area, making out the different foliage and chirps. They eventually stop at an open area. Deep in the forest and far from home.

mike looks up to see the sun taking on a soft shade of pink and orange. he releases his hand from the woman's grasp with no effort and gets closer to marvel at the sight. It looked like a blurry mosaic at first but as he furrowed his brows and centered his gaze, the image finally revealed itself to him

Don't go.

next : here prev : here

I had a lotta fun continuing this prompt, especially the writing at the beginning, this is the middle/main part of this whole saga

AND DONT WORRY THE GIANT CUDDLES ARE COMING UP!! I just had to create this flashback to explain why mike is so scared when he and Ez get separated. That's right,✨abandonment issues✨

but don't worry , him and Ez are gonna reunite and all the trauma will magically disappear

just kidding its still gonna be sad cuz mike is convinced Ez was gonna leave him just like his witch of a mother

anyways the third part is gonna come out on the 11th of august for hug a tiny day cuz it seems like perfect timing

dang i feel bad tagging this g/t when the giant in question hasn't even made an appearance but i honestly don't know what else to tag it so bombs away

btw pls tell me if this comic made you sad, this is my first time leaning into angst and feedback would be appreciated

anyways bye >:]

[salixj]

“Please explain, I don’t understand how you are all so happy and singing and dancing when you are here and not at your home.  Please can you tell me why?”

It was 18:05, minutes after Shabbat had gone out in Athens, in the Sofitel Hotel in Athens International Airport. The conversation was between me and Sophia, a puzzled but very courteous front desk manager at the hotel. The reason had been havdallah, the culmination of the singing throughout Shabbat tefillot and meals.

I will get to my answer to her…Yet I first want to backtrack.

So much has been written about the LY 002 Shabbat Athens landing, that I was on. Articles have been published, many of them scathing, attacking someone or some entity. Many written out of justified anger, like mine that I wrote on my phone in the airport after Shabbat, when reading what had been posted against us.

I want to tell a different side of this, now that I am – finally – home, having arrived at 3:15 a.m. I am calmer, and able to see the entire incident, understand the passions on all sides, and reflect, and reach a slightly different conclusion.

Firstly, I feel very bad for the crew of stewards and stewardesses, who were just trying to do their job, and had been brought late to the plane waiting in traffic for hours through no fault of their own, but due to a poor decision by their managers not to leave early due to the weather.  They were bearing the brunt of the shouts of anger from all sides — religious and irreligious — over a decision that hadn’t been theirs. I told them this as I got off the plane, as I saw their pain and frustration and knew they were not in the wrong and had had a really bad day — I hope I managed to comfort them somehow. Maybe they should have reacted better, but then again none of us is perfect.

I feel bad for the irreligious people, who had to wait a further three hours to get a plane home, and who missed out on the special Shabbat experience that I will never forget.

I feel bad that so many accusations continue to fly as I type this. I still feel El Al was in the wrong, but the airline, too, can make mistakes.

However, the aspect I keep coming back to, aside from the accusations of violence that I really, really hope were not true — if there is one thing we must learn it is that dialogue is the only way to resolve our disputes — is the above conversation.

To recap the situation: some 40 minutes before Shabbat was to come in, a swarm of about 180 religious Jews (maybe a quarter of whom would be classified as “Haredi”), most of us talking on the phone or texting with our families in Israel or the USA, descended on the Athens hotel.  Clutching our hand luggage, and for many of us a portion of the meal we had been served earlier, saved in case we had no food for Shabbat (I saved my omelet and roll; they were never eaten), and stealing glances at our watches as Shabbat crept ever closer, we were led into the lobby. The hotel and El Al representatives calmed us down by explaining that meals were taken care of, and that we should pair up in s twos or threes for rooms, and that we had nothing to worry about. There was not enough room for all of us, so approximately 30 people were taken to another hotel.

We found partners (mine were nice, though both snored), formed lines, received our keycards, and exchanged ideas on how to avoid using them on Shabbat (electronics are a problem for those who observe Shabbat).  I am a seasoned traveler, who has guided on numerous occasions for Ramah Israel in Poland, Prague, and Morocco, as well as having been in many a US hotel room for Shabbat, and shared my personal favorites: tape over or put toilet paper in the tab that the latch of the door fits into, or put a towel over the door, and make sure your valuables are in the safe.

Not that many of us had much to put there: I am sure you have heard the oft-used expression, especially before Shabbat, “I have literally nothing to wear”? This time, it was true – all I had were the clothes on my back, some food, and my tallit and tefillin – all the rest of my emergency clothes that I always take with me in case of such a situation had been checked in when the nice operator at the El Al counter in JFK offered to check my rolling hand luggage for free. Kicking myself for doing that, I sprinted back to the airport and found a store selling white Athens souvenir t-shirts, and socks with for some unknown reason, San Francisco emblazoned on them. Once the t-shirt was turned inside out, I had my Shabbat shirt.

Thus bedecked in splendor, I went to Kabbalat Shabbat, missing my family, and with some trepidation over the upcoming Shabbat.

Most of my new comrades were similarly dressed. The lifelike statue at the top of the stairs, that seemed to be a distortion of Michelangelo’s David (made from fake granite, facing the other way and with hand outstretched, but still totally nude), that many were avoiding looking at, seemed to reinforce my fears that this was going to be a strange Shabbat.

Yet, it was strange, but in a wonderful, marvelous, unifying spiritual manner.  One of my new friends, Ben Chafetz, wrote a beautiful piece describing Shabbat that I encourage you to read. It was truly remarkable what Chabad in Athens had done at the last minute, in terms of warm hospitality, abundance of food, a Sefer Torah, and other logistical preparations – many of us gave a donation after Shabbat for a mikveh that doesn’t exist there by way of thanking them.  Equally remarkable was the hotel staff and management, who went out of their way to help us.  Despite my criticism of El Al in my first piece on this that I stand by, they did their best to provide for us once the decisions had been made and the mistakes by others left in the past, and that is worthy of praise as well.

Everyone there had their own sob story of what they were missing in Israel – I hadn’t seen my wife and kids in two weeks, but there were worse stories: a few bar mitzvahs that people were missing, an aufruf, the family gathering at a yahrtzeit, and sadly, one woman who told me that the body of her mother had been in the belly of flight LY002, on its way to burial in Israel, and she had no idea what had happened with it over Shabbat. Perspective can be a wonderful thing.

Yet: we all breathed deeply and let Shabbat work its magic. The most remarkable thing was the atmosphere, that 150 Jews from all walks of life, wearing the strangest Shabbat outfits and bringing a vast plethora of Shabbat traditions to the shul and table, created, without a decision-making process on behalf of anyone.

The Kiddush Hashem was awesome — singing in the different accents, dancing with strangers, divrei torah and shiurim — the atmosphere we created together was one of Simchat Shabbat. The heat-warming breaking down of any barriers due to the circumstances was invigorating, caused many unexpected friendships, and broke stereotypes for us all that hopefully will not be rebuilt. Seeing all these Jews who would probably never have said anything to each other simply because of what the other was wearing, in conversations around tables or in the lobby, was inspiring.  How beautifully ironic that none of this atmosphere was captured to show, because all those creating it were religious and could not use cameras or phones.

There is a saying: You don’t control the situations you are in, but you do control how you react to them” – and that was demonstrated perfectly.  None of us chose to be there, yet we made the best of the situation, and kept a Shabbat that none of us will ever forget.

In the afternoon I went for a walk — sadly the airport is too far from the real sites, so that will have to wait for the next time I am there — ending up on the top floor of the airport where there is a small, free museum that I highly recommend if you are ever there — a collection of what had been found while building the airport. Similar to Israel, Greece has a vast amount of archaeology and immense finds in every nook and cranny, and it was very special looking at coins and pottery made in the second century BCE — as in, exactly the Chanukah time period. I even found myself getting emotional when I realized that here was an Israeli, a tour guide who teaches about Jewish values — then and now, stuck in Greece because he insisted on keeping Shabbat, looking at coins minted during the time that the Ancient Greeks tried to crush Ancient Israel for the “crime” of doing exactly that, and in a few days will be celebrating that holiday back in Israel.

One of the divrei Torah that was given in the shul was a thought I have given many times myself to students. Briefly, the parshat hashavua (Torah portion) we read — Vayetzei — has in it the verse where our Matriarch Leah named her fourth son Judah, meaning “I will thank G-d”; the root “odeh” being the same as “todah,” meaning thanks. If you follow that thought, our name, Jews, means thank you. That, too was a key element of Shabbat — thanking everyone who had made it.

So: after Havdallah, I made it my business to thank every one of the hotel workers that I saw, as did many of us.  As I was doing that, Sophia, the desk manager, asked me in her broken English, what I wrote above:

“Please explain, I don’t understand how you are all so happy and singing and dancing when you are here and not at your home. Please can you tell me why?”

The conversation is too long to write in full, but I explained to her what Shabbat was, and told her a bit about the rituals and theology, answered her follow up questions, quoted to her Asher Ginsburg’s famous saying, “More than the Jewish people have kept the Shabbat, the Shabbat has kept the Jewish people,” and she was nodding politely, but clearly not getting it.

So I added one more thought, that I think she liked, and it is a thought that I am taking with me as this saga continues to swirl:  Shabbat is, amongst other values, about Kehilla, community, togetherness, about taking time to be with one’s family and friends, and about creating and strengthening community. (As was put to me by my new friend Mitch – who lives 5 minutes from me, but whom I had to come to Athens to meet — Shabbat is the time for shmoozing, so let’s schmooze!)

This week, I told Sophia, you saw a new Jewish community create itself under conditions that were beyond its control to alter, but were within its control to use and benefit from. The singing and dancing came from that yearning to strengthen our bonds to our belief and our community, in the same way that Shabbat has done for so many centuries in other conditions.  I have made many friends that I hope I will stay in touch with, and hopefully allowed one desk manager named Sophia to get an inkling into Shabbat in Judaism.

One final thought. Community, like family, is close enough that arguments and disagreements are inevitable from time to time — that is the nature of the beast. Our task, like in the conversation over our flight, is to combat that inclination to let our arguing overtake us and the poison continue to flow, and to end the arguing by listening to the other and understanding them.

I, for one, am done with blame. We were in Athens for a reason, I will always remember that Shabbat, and life is now continuing.