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110 I Didn’t Ask for My Parents Sholeh Wolpé It isn’t like you bend your dainty spirit neck down from God’s baby-soul-land and point to a copulating couple who strike your fancy. Don’t think it works that way. You are blindfolded and shot down through heaven’s tunnel into life and where you plop willy-nilly that’s your home. The Jewish couple may be in the act at the same time as their Muslim neighbor. Where you end up even the cherub who pushed you off the edge can’t know. We grow up forgetting our incidental placements become fond of whatever bread and religion we are fed. Listen, Who has salvation when we all claim it? ...

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