Dear Father ...

Every morning, after saying Modeh Ani and washing her hands, she would go out on the porch.  She placed her hands behind her back and addressed Hashem: My Master, my Father, I cannot do anything without You!

That is how a Moroccan Jewish woman addressed Hashem every morning.  She was an isha peshuta (simple woman) who was illiterate, since they did not teach girls to read and write and yet she had a personal relationship with the Ribono shel olam, one which, sophisticated we, with our ability to read, write and surf and search the Internet, often lack. 

We read stories from yesteryear, of the simple folk whom the Baal Shem Tov extolled.  There are still some living amongst us.  They are precious Jews.

We have a hard task.  We cannot feign simplicity.  We are enjoined to learn and know, to the best of our abilities.  But even as we broaden our minds and knowledge, we need to retain the emuna peshuta (simple faith) of a child, of unlearned people.