It's fun to build a sukkah and cover it with branches and fronds, and it is a pleasure preparing colorful paper rings with the kids. It is also fun to gather the four species, and it is important to remember that the people of Israel sat in sukkahs and that we are continuing in their way.
It is a pleasure to tell friends "Come, come, you must see what a beautiful sukkah we built," and an even greater pleasure when they do.
Sukkot is a wonderful holiday unlike any other. The festive feeling stems from the chance we get to finally leave the house for a while and from the fact that the citron goes back to being a fruit and not a political term.
And suddenly, as I'm taking a nap in the sukkah with a book in hand, I would like to think, pardon the schmaltz, that as we accumulate, compete and grow fat we also remember that we were once slaves; that everything is as fleeting as the wind that is blowing outside and that instead of ostentatiousness and arrogance we can settle for the sukkah, the blue skies and the wilderness.
Sukkot is a holiday that brings out our inner-sukkah - a sukkah of yearning for tender simplicity; it does not represent a desire for an overwhelming victory over our enemies – as Hannukah, Pesach and Purim do in their own way – but rather a minor stage in life and redemption.
We sat in sukkahs upon fleeing Egypt, and yet now, during the harvest festival, when the crops are collected, when abundance is at its peak, we symbolically leave behind everything and wrap ourselves in the simple things.
Sukkot is a holiday that tells us that in order to be considered worthy all we need is a few materials used in arts and crafts class and a little patience for ourselves and our children – real Jewish low-tech.
Yes, I'm being overly sentimental, and I would continue talking in praise of this great holiday, but I'm being asked to come outside and give a hand.