It was the holiday season about ten years ago when I got the call: it’s a boy. My older sister was the first of my siblings to have a child. My whole family was elated. At that time, I was living and studying and studying in New York and she was in Philadelphia. She remarked that the Bris would be on the first Sunday after she arrived home from the hospital, which was before the eighth day. I responded, “Don’t mess with his Bris. I don’t care what else you do in his life, but don’t mess with that.” My intention was, don’t do anything that may need correcting later on life. She heeded my advice and the Simcha was on the eighth day.
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