Last Saturday night Shira and I had friends over for dinner, a lovely couple we had come to know after Shira had met the wife on a CJP mission to Israel. They walked through our front door bearing gifts. A lovely bouquet of flowers. Very nice. And then something else. Something we had never before received from any guest ever. The husband walked into our living room and presented me with this: a collection of gorgeously bound, all Hebrew, very religious looking, books, a five-volume set, the kind of books one would find in a yeshivah.