Posted on 12/05/24
Baltimore, MD - Dec. 5, 2024 -‘Tis the season as they say. It’s almost Chanuka! Well, at least 20 more days to go, as my preschoolers are counting down. And oh how we have all been counting. We are counting until our hostages and soldiers come home, alive, and whole in body and soul, and counting for the war to end! I applaud those who still wear that piece of tape and make it a stark reminder to everyone. I admit that I stopped, however I guess I am still taping in my mind. I say my daily Tehillim for the hostages, say the Yehi Ratzon for our Chayalim in the teacher’s room, and when I get into my car and see the yellow ribbon I tied along with the “Bring them Home” dog tag swinging from my rearview mirror. It remains a shock to see where the tape stayed on my clothing from last year. One day, I pulled out a dress for our special preschool program when we started learning Aleph Beis. It is a milestone and one that requires a special dress to demonstrate that to the children, and for myself! The tape was still there on that particular outfit. “Oh,” I sighed. I never imagined last year, on day 144 (I think) that people would still be taping almost 300 days later praying for the return of our hostages. Sigh, yes. And life goes on.
We marked the first yahrtzheit of Shiva’B’October. Difficult indeed. Heartbreaking, actually. Somehow, we celebrated the Yamim Tovim, davening fervently during the Yamim Noraim, and dancing with renewed focus on Simchas Torah. How could we not? There were Neshamos to remember and Neshamos to daven for! It is indeed a funny thing to mourn and be joyous at the same time, but the heart has multiple chambers to hold all those emotions simultaneously. It is not a contradiction; rather one of Life’s great lessons.
We go grocery shopping, we send our kids to school, we go to work. We cook for Shabbos, we host guests, and we eat dessert. We are blessed to make simchas and bring life into the world. In between all that, we daven, daven, daven and cry still. We think about each other in a peripheral way of what we can do to help one another. Isn’t that the purpose of living? Imo Anochi B’tzarah; we cling to each other’s pain, and ultimately to G-d’s. Concurrently, our happiness is experienced triple fold as we discover the true blessings in our lives.
It has been an interesting year, to say the least, of watching this metamorphosis of holding the pain and living. Perhaps it is brazen for me to even write this way. I don’t live in Eretz Yisroel, although my heart certainly is in the East. I don’t have anyone in my immediate family fighting, and I also know where my family members are. I am not raising my children alone while my husband is in Miluim. I live in Baltimore and don’t have to run to a bomb shelter randomly. The list goes on, and yet I continue to check the news with my early morning coffee, along with watching the heart-wrenching , encouraging beautiful clips that showcase the heroism of our People. While I cannot hop on a plane and just go, that thought has crossed my mind many times. These clips therefore are my connection when I need that connection so badly and I appreciate that people post.
My cousin in Israel, the one who dedicates her time and talent to designing the posters for the Chatufim, updates me. Her husband, a once very busy tour guide , has enlisted in the police academy for parnassah and is away for the long training, leaving her to run the show at home, solo. She is no different than the Eishet Chayelet, a slang term for the wives of soldiers. A dear friend sent me a picture of her newly Oleh daughter visiting Novah. It was sunset and the beauty of the sky against the backdrop in this sacred place of tragedy was striking, her face reflecting those feelings. Another friend told me proudly, and with mother’s worry, how her son took a very difficult test in a special rank in the IDF and passed. Hashem YIshmor Otam. Hashem should watch over them. Hashem should watch over all of us. Hinei Lo Yanum V’Lo Yishan Shomer Yisroel, is what I tell my students. Children cannot fathom that Hashem doesn’t sleep. As adults, we are so grateful He is our Guardian and is always awake.
Here we are in December and I am teaching another year, thank G-d. Last year, I had a special connection with my students, as we sang and davened all year. These five-year-old leibedik delicious boys belted out the same war songs (I called it our playlist) that their 20-year-old and above brothers in green sang before going into battle. Our Ma’agal was holy. Our tefillah was precious. While we never discussed war details, the boys would tell me about their uncles or cousins who were Chayalim. One boy was in Israel when the war broke out and told me of his adventures in the bomb shelter in the hotel, along with the swimming pool. Another boy told me he knew why we were singing Acheinu every day. How astute they were. How so connected they were despite their tender age. We should not be surprised. They are Bnei Yisroel! The Children of Israel who have the distinct heritage of being Rachmanim, merciful!
Now we are in another year. What is my goal? What is my intent? Yes, it is a great privilege to teach Torah to tinokos shel beis rabban. I do not take it for granted. This year my lessons, I hope, are permeated with extra Simcha and Smiles. A former preschooler of mine was niftar in the summer and with his parents’ permission I started the Smile for Avi project, l’iluy Nishmas Avraham Meir ben Leib Yoel, whose entire being lit up with his beautiful smile. This initiative encourages me and reminds me of what I need to be doing and how, no different than those soldiers, or the people engaged in all kinds of chessed, whose smiles light up the clips I look at.
Last year, the theme song in room 207 was Al Tirah Yisroel Ki Gur Aryeh Halo Atah; do not be afraid Yisroel because you are a lion. After experiencing so many open Nissim V’Neflaos this past year, even with the aching losses, that in truth are the greatest form of kiddush shem shamayim, is it any wonder that the song for this year is Ki Hashem Yitbarach Hu Tomid Ohev Oti, V’Tamid Yihiyeh Li Rak Bov; Blessed is G-d, Who always loves me and only wants what’s good for me. Reb Sholom Arush’s song from the teachings of Rebbi Nachaman Mi’Breslev has gone viral not just in Israel but all over the world and has been translated into many languages. It is incredible to hear it in French, and Spanish, and being sung by people in Asia!
We have all seen the explosion of Jewish pride and mitzvah observance. We have felt Hashem’s love for us with the miracles. Even in the shiva houses of those bereft, we have heard the tremendous pride on behalf of the families of their fallen loved one. This is something to smile about. It is the same renewed focus of the purpose of our lives, our raison d’etre.
Chanuka is just around the corner. It is the Festival of Lights, the Holiday of Hope. As I told my preschoolers, who well related to the fear of being in a dark room, that just like a flashlight lights up the room, we are also the light when we learn torah and do mitzvos. All of us. They echoed to me, “even the Morah!” Oh yes, I too need to be that light (and smile!) to my students, to my family, to my friends and community. We all need to be a light for each other and the world. The world is indeed starting to glow, even in this darkness of Galus. I can’t wait for Chanuka. Won’t you count with me??!!