A Treasured Memory

I can’t resist this one this morning. Let me tell you about a teacher of mine. When I was in Hebrew School, our Junior Congregation leader was a man named Harry Kraft z”L. Mr. Kraft was a tall, imposing man (although I suppose everyone looks tall at that age). He stood above us pointing out the words on the page with a gentle firmness which I can still remember as if it was yesterday. He taught us melodies that I still know and still use.

I never knew my grandfathers and Mr. Kraft was as close as I came to that at that age. He was so patient with all of us but could get us all singing with spirit and with meaning. I have never forgotten his songs, his manner and his presence.

And when his son, Robert Kraft, accepted the AFC championship trophy yesterday and pointed up to the heavens to remember his dear wife, Myra, who died last year, I thought of her legacy of philanthropy and dedication and I thought, immediately of Mr. Kraft’s love of teaching and learning.

I’m glad my Patriots are back in the Super Bowl for a lot of reasons that you probably can figure out- but one additional reason isĀ  that it gives me a chance to remember Harry Kraft Z’L and thank him again for all he taught me.

Go Patriots!

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