Baltimore, Md - Oct. 12, 2025 - The challah is waiting to be braided yet I find myself here at the computer, again, instead of being in the kitchen. There’s so much I want to say and write as the tears roll down my cheeks while watching all the posts and clips of what we are desperately waiting for. It is Hoshana Raba night and we sit here on the cusp of Shuvu HaBayta, our captive brothers and sisters soon to return Home. I hope that by the time you read this their feet will finally have touched Holy soil and the brocha of Shechiyanu will be joyfully proclaimed. It is truly an emotional evening to say the least. There will be much tefillah said with this particular batch, as there has been with my challah baking for the past two years, having participated in the Challah for Chayalim program and mafrish with our Chayalim in mind, as well as davening for our Chatufim.
I am not a political commentator, I am not a Rav. I am a mother, a homemaker, Morah, and sometimes a writer. I can’t predict trends and offer analysis for the past two years. I certainly won’t quote pesukim or nevuos regarding this moment in time. All I know is that I, as we all, have been davening and yearning for this moment for oh so long.
Before the start of Succos when my 13 and half year-old son and I were in the car doing errands, and after picking out his own Lulav and Esrog with my husband, he shared with me that Ashkenazim and Sefardim each have their way of shaking. This was a new fun fact for me!
The Morah in me knows that according to the children’s song the shaking in all directions is to signify that Hashem is here and there and truly everywhere. The mom in me thought that perhaps it may be related to the mitzvah of V’Samachta B’Chagecha, in that we have to sometimes look for Simcha in all those directions, the same way we seek Hashem. Once Succos came and we sat underneath the stars enjoying the beautiful weather, Baruch Hashem, we invited the Ushpizin, and as was our custom last year, we also invited those still in Gaza. And now here we are. Can we finally exhale and say it’s over? I wish. For these tortured souls and their families, yes, the long exhaustive horrific wait is over, however, the real work of recovery and healing must begin. We in the Diaspora (and in Israel) cannot proclaim complete joy and victory. Our tefillos must double even more (like my rising challah). Our People have been affected in ways that we can’t fathom; husbands, wives, children, soldiers, medical personnel, and the list goes on. We cannot forget about the families who will greet their loved ones albeit in a different way, at the cemetery. We cannot forget about the families and communities no longer whole. In this remembering, we shake the lulav and esrog in every direction, unifying Klal Yisroel as we look up into the night sky in our collective succah waiting to exhale completely , whole in body and spirit with the arrival of Mashiach, soon in our days.
In the meantime, braiding awaits. Perhaps it will be in the form of a yellow ribbon, alongside its crowned breaded friends.
Wishing the Jewish Nation a Jubilant Yom Tov and Piska Tova.
Written in gratitude to Hashem Yisbarech and the Malchus Shel Chessed.
