God does not punish Jewish children for celebrating Christmas. Uzi Rosha acknowledges that. But Mr. Rosha, a 42-year-old lawyer, cannot help but think that his son Uri’s accident  the one that opened a geyser of blood on his left cheek  would not have happened if the family had never gone to their first Christmas party.

Mr. Rosha could hardly blame the hosts, “a really nice, older couple,” in the affluent suburb of Minnetonka, Minn. In fact, these neighbors were almost surrogate grandparents to Uri, who was then 16 months old and just learning to walk. Their warm reception had made it easier for Mr. Rosha and his wife, Jaehee Moon, to leave what he calls the “Jewish lands” of Manhattan and Tel Aviv for a job in the Midwest.

The real culprit, Mr. Rosha believes, was the glass coffee table in the neighbors’ living room. One moment, Uri was toddling back and forth in front of the table, working the room as only a baby can. Next  well, Mr. Rosha still does not know exactly what happened next.

“I’m a military graduate,” he said with a laugh. “When I see something, I act quickly.” But his wife was moving at a different speed  the speed of a mother who sees blood pouring out of a facial laceration onto the carpet.