ארבעה סוגים של תשובות שגויות

Every Friday morning, the smell of fresh bread fills the building where Talia Mizrahi lives in Kiryat Shmona. Talia is seventeen, and every week she bakes twelve loaves of challah. She keeps only one for her family. The other eleven go to her neighbours.

It all started two years ago. Mrs. Gold, an old neighbour who lives alone on the third floor, was sick, and she could not go out to buy food. Talia brought her some soup and a challah. "When she saw the bread, she cried," Talia remembers. "Then I understood that a small thing can be very big."

Talia learned to bake from her grandmother, who came from Iraq. At first her bread was too hard, but after a few weeks she found the right way. Now she starts at six in the morning, and the bread is ready at ten.

The neighbours love it. Mrs. Gold, who is eighty-five now, waits at her door every Friday. "It is not only bread," she says. "It is a visit." Talia never asks for money. "When I see their faces, that is enough," she says.

Every Friday morning, the smell of fresh bread fills the building where Talia Mizrahi lives in Kiryat Shmona. Talia is seventeen, and every week she bakes twelve loaves of challah. She keeps only one for her family. The other eleven go to her neighbours.

It all started two years ago. Mrs. Gold, an old neighbour who lives alone on the third floor, was sick, and she could not go out to buy food. Talia brought her some soup and a challah. "When she saw the bread, she cried," Talia remembers. "Then I understood that a small thing can be very big."

Talia learned to bake from her grandmother, who came from Iraq. At first her bread was too hard, but after a few weeks she found the right way. Now she starts at six in the morning, and the bread is ready at ten.

The neighbours love it. Mrs. Gold, who is eighty-five now, waits at her door every Friday. "It is not only bread," she says. "It is a visit." Talia never asks for money. "When I see their faces, that is enough," she says.

Every Friday morning, the smell of fresh bread fills the building where Talia Mizrahi lives in Kiryat Shmona. Talia is seventeen, and every week she bakes twelve loaves of challah. She keeps only one for her family. The other eleven go to her neighbours.

It all started two years ago. Mrs. Gold, an old neighbour who lives alone on the third floor, was sick, and she could not go out to buy food. Talia brought her some soup and a challah. "When she saw the bread, she cried," Talia remembers. "Then I understood that a small thing can be very big."

Talia learned to bake from her grandmother, who came from Iraq. At first her bread was too hard, but after a few weeks she found the right way. Now she starts at six in the morning, and the bread is ready at ten.

The neighbours love it. Mrs. Gold, who is eighty-five now, waits at her door every Friday. "It is not only bread," she says. "It is a visit." Talia never asks for money. "When I see their faces, that is enough," she says.