Every time I walk into a voting booth and pull the curtain, my heart races with the responsibility of making the best decisions. Unfortunately in the past decades, I missed a few primary elections, but I’m more careful today. Although I prefer the excitement of voting on Election Day, sometimes I vote early. It’s easy to say, “My one vote doesn’t really count,” but that’s not true. Whether I cast my ballot early or on Election Day, I am aware that my vote does count among all the others in our Jewish community.

A good voter turnout impresses leaders in government, and that makes a difference for our community’s needs being met. This is why some people are concerned about a low voter turnout in the presidential primary this past May. Sandy Rosenbluth, Chief of Staff for Dalya Attar and member of the Maryland Democratic State Central Committee, along with her husband, Ronnie Rosenbluth, a former member of the State Central Committee, are upset that very few people in our district voted. “Poor voter turnout gives us less influence with elected officials,” says Mrs. Rosenbluth.

In the late 1960s, when I was a senior at Towson University, then called Towson State College, I was appointed as a student representative to a faculty curriculum committee meeting, where I experienced the only antisemitic slur in my four years at Towson. Because I was very young, I didn’t know what to say when a faculty member who was against bringing a business curriculum to Towson suggested that it would attract more Jews. A few minutes later, I walked out of that meeting and never came back. At that time, the Jewish Students Association, a worthy school club, existed, but it wasn’t a place to report antisemitism.

Today, Jewish students at Towson and other Maryland colleges gain support through Chabad and Hillel on campus. After the massacre by terrorists in Israel on Simchas Torah, that support is needed more than ever.

After breakfast on a Sunday morning, visiting in Lakewood, I spotted our teenage grandson working at a table in the corner of the kitchen. He was picking up tiny brown pieces of a jigsaw puzzle to complete the ground leading up to a nighttime picture of a country store. He started solving jigsaw puzzles at twelve years old. When I saw him easily find and connect a piece, I asked,“How do you do that?”

“It’s not so hard,” he said. “Try it.”

On Sunday, April 23, I attended the reunion of Public School #59 at Beth Tfiloh, catered by Milk & Honey. It’s unusual to hold a reunion for a public elementary school and even more unusual to make it kosher! Public school is free and in the ’50s, it was the choice of most Jewish families in the Lower Park Heights neighborhood. But when I became frum, I knew that the best choice for my children was Jewish day schools, regardless of the cost.

*  *  *

When I was growing up on Shirley Avenue, off the 3900 block of Park Heights, here in Baltimore, I loved summer vacation when, after supper, my friends and I had plenty of time to jump rope and play hide-and-go-seek even without daylight saving time. As the sun was setting, we would sit at the bottom of the high steps leading up to our row houses and play a game called Time.

As a child, I didn’t realize that time really isn’t a game to be tampered with. It’s a precious gift from Hashem to use wisely, enjoying the beautiful world and the mitzvahs He gave us. Now the United States Congress wants to pass a bill making daylight saving time year-round. It’s only an extra hour, but in the winter, it would be disastrous for the Jewish community.

Last week, a tall green plant that I wanted to cut down because I was sure it was a weed gave me a big surprise. My husband, who likes to plant seeds from the vegetables we eat, said, “Let it grow.” Now, I’m glad I did because hidden behind one of the leaves was a shiny green pepper. That plant just took time to bear fruit. There are all kinds of seeds that can bear fruit – like making calls in support of an important new bill before Congress.