"Od lo avda tikvateinu..."

Yom sheni, 5 Iyar 5770, Yom HaZikaron.

When I was a little girl, American flags would be displayed proudly on Flag Day and Independence Day.  Older people even had them flying on their homes on Memorial Day and Veterans' Day.  And, of course, there were people who flew the American flag all the time -- some taking it down at night, and none that I remembered allowing it to touch the ground.

Times changed.  Fewer homes flew flags.  Fewer people knew it was Flag Day or Memorial Day.  It was hard to completely forget Veterans' Day, because invariably there would be some old fellow with watery eyes shining  with an old doughboy toughness from beneath his military cap, his jacket covered with medals of heroic campaigns forgotten.  The Fourth of July was easy to remember, because it was a day of sales and fireworks and barbecues with the neighbors.  There might still even be parades...

We stand for the Yom HaZikaron siren.  The country stands still to remember our fallen heroes -- those in uniform, and those whose heroism was earned over pizza or ice cream, or just because they chose to ride the bus our enemies targeted.  We will concentrate on these losses as we travel through this very sad day.  And tonight, we will build up for the joy that is Yom Ha'Atzma'ut, the Day of Israel's Independence.

Yom HaZikaron flows into Yom Ha'atzma'ut as a perfect metaphor for the life of a Jew. It is not unusual to go to a brit milah in the morning, followed by a vort, followed by a shiva visit, and end the day at a wedding or bar mitzvah celebration. The rollercoaster life of one who is privileged to be embroidered into the tapestry of others' lives...

As we have prepared for these twin days of abject sorrow and joyful pride, my neighbors in Neve Daniel have been showing their true colors.

 Flags are flying all over town in honor of our dear departed, who fought and died for this soil we call Home.

Flags dance in the Neve Daniel wind to celebrate the honor of being raised over the country that is the closest thing we Jews have had to something of our own in thousands of years.

And here and there, an old soldier will still see a flag that has blown to the ground, and pick it up, to preserve the honor it represents.

As more than twenty neighboring Arab nations manipulate the Western world's negative feelings toward our people, trying to wrest this tiny piece of land from us, piece by piece, we celebrate Israel -- the first flowering of our redemption.  May we see the complete redemption of the Jewish people and G-d's world, speedily and in our days.

Glossary:
"Od lo avda tikvateinu..."  We have not yet lost our hope..." -- a line from "Hatikva," the national anthem of Israel
Yom HaZikaron:  Day of Remembrance (of those who have fallen in battle to defend our nation; of those who were killed in terrorist acts, may Hashem avenge their blood
 

Pesach must be over: Lag B'Omer prep begins.

Yom shishi, 2 Iyar 5770.

Question:  What is one of the first signs of Spring in Israel?
Answer:   Shopping carts mysteriously filling up with errant pieces of wood.

Question:  And what is another early sign of Spring in Israel?
Answer:  The Arabs, busily trying to salvage their construction wood, before the kids get to it.

The Dearly Beloved and I have long been impressed by the use the Arab construction crews make of wood.  Remember that wood is not plentiful in Israel; so this is not what houses are constructed of.  There is a lot of metal and concrete, covered with beautifying Jerusalem stone and terra-cotta.  But wood is used for supports...  and then reused, and reused, and reused... ad infinitum, ad Lag B'Omer...

So even though I know that the Arab crew was probably gathering and moving the precious wood after the job is nearly finished, there is something sweetly humorous about their timing this year.  Because the wood really is important.  Nothing can be wasted.  And you never know when someone else might see it as valuable...  and obviously unneeded by the grownups.

 Disclaimer:  The wood in this photograph was 100% ownerless, and not connected in any way with the previously-mentioned building sites.  Honest.

Chodesh tov, and Shabbat shalom!

Glossary:

Lag B'Omer:  for the purpose of this discussion, a holiday requiring children all over Israel to burn in small or large bonfires everything made of wood or paper that is not glued or nailed down.  Much feasting and singing ensues.  Life is good. 

Don't Forget the Shlissel Challah, redux

Yom revi'i, 24 Nisan 5770.
Reposted from last year, at a friend's request.

There is a beautiful custom, taught to me by my beloved Rabbi Menachem and Rebbetzin Bracha Goldberger, to put a key into the first challah after Pesach.

There are many explanations given for this custom.  Rabbi Yehuda Prero says, "The 'schlissel,' which is the Yiddish word for 'key,' should unlock the gates of sustenance for us just as it was for the nation of Israel after their first Pesach in the promised land."   Others mention the key as a symbol of "opening a small hole, like the eye of a needle," by keeping Shabbat and taking challah -- and these mitzvot will help to "remind" our Father in Heaven to open His storehouse of blessing for us.  Still others mention that the counting of the omer is a time when gates in the Supernal Realm can be unlocked, if we but have the right keys.  I refer you to an excellent post on A Simple Jew's blog from 2007, wherein "A Talmid" did detailed research to offer many different explanations.  My friend Sheina bakes her challah in the shape of a key.

Photo from Yeshiva World News

The key that has been used as our schlissel challah for more than a decade has been in my mother's family for several generations.  And so we keep the sense of tradition alive, even within a family building its traditions much as we build our challah -- from scratch.
 

Today I plan to fulfill the mitzvah of taking challah in the merit of all those who so desperately want to bring new life into the world.  I have not received permission to mention any names, though there are (unfortunately) several on my list, just as there probably are on yours.  I do not know if this is true -- but I believe that if we add to our personal lists the desire to add the names on each other's lists, Hashem will count our brachot as if all of the names were shared.  Please have all of these dear potential-parents in mind for healthy babies, b'sha'ah tova!

May we share a year of abundant blessing, joy and contentment.

Glossary:
Schlissel:  Yiddish for "key"
Challah:  special bread baked for Shabbat
Taking challah:  a mitzvah to remove and destroy a small portion of the challah dough, as a reminder of the portion given to the Priests during Temple times
Counting of the omer:  a larger subject than I can explain here -- but a time of spiritual growth between Pesach and Shavu'ot that takes 49 days of counting and introspection
Supernal Realms:  Don't even ask.
B'sha'ah tova!:  [Lit: at a good hour]  At the right time, and with ease!

Pesach 5770

Yom revi'i, 16 Nisan 5770, Chol HaMo'ed Pesach.

In Neve Daniel, Erev Pesach was especially enjoyable for me this year.  The boys no longer eat in their rooms, and they help to clean for Pesach.  So I had a little time to walk around with my camera to see how other folks were preparing for the chag.



As there are no non-Jews on our yishuv, there is no need to perform the mitzvah of biur chometz with fire trucks and writs from the city government at one public gathering.  So there are little fires all over, with holy families quietly focusing on the words in their machzorim, rather than on the curiosity or curses of complaining neighbors.

While I always appreciated those thoughtful organizations that put together matza-baking events in Baltimore or in New York, there is something special about a neighbor on our street baking matzot in his garage.

 In every generation one is obligated to show how he himself came out of slavery in Egypt.

When our sons were little boys, telling the story of our exodus from Egypt consisted of Kool-Aid "blood," plastic frogs and wild animals and rubber bugs all over the Seder table, and the yearly appearance of "Guidetta."  I got such cathartic pleasure out of dressing up in a snap-brim Fedora and sunglasses, "shooting" my kids with my over-sized Nerf machine gun.  This was our substitute for barad, the miraculous hail made of fire and ice that rained down as G-d's sixth plague on the wicked Mitzri.  The Death of the First Born was reenacted by each of our family members -- and some of our more extroverted guests -- as if the movie cameras were rolling.  (I invariably won the unannounced contest with my heartfelt portrayal of Toshiro Mifune in one of his longer and better samurai death scenes.)   I had a blast -- and so did the kids and the Dearly Beloved.  Some guests claimed it changed their view of Yiddishkeit entirely -- and we can only pray that this was change for the good.

As the boys have grown and matured, the Seder necessarily has evolved with them.

Gone are the blood and the plastic menagerie.   Gone the brilliantly-acted death scenes.  Alas, gone the Fedora and the Tommy-gun.  As we sit down for our one-and-only Seder this year in Israel, my sons say most of the Hagadah in beautiful Hebrew.  As their parents still require a translation, each person at the table recites a passage in English.  As my children are all 100% kosher Jewish hams, they recite each passage in heavily-accented English.  We had Irish, Scottish, British, Russian, French, Jamaican, amorphous Southern USofA, and Baltimore black.  We heard "The Four Questions" in Hebrew, Italian, Gaelic and Klingon.  (Penina, we kept the copies your children brought to our table many years ago...)

We had FUN.

We also had moments of great and weighty seriousness.

Yeshiva Bochur helped me to prepare the maror this year according to an old family recipe acquired from a masochistic Mexican chef in Sierra Vista, Arizona.

The boys -- being men now -- decided to super-size their portions of white vinegar-laced horseradish -- and promptly ended up under the table, over the trash can, in the bathroom -- volubly ejecting their taste of slavery's bitterness.  Afterward, with damp eyes and flushed faces, we talked of our recent losses of Golani soldiers, deputy battalion commander Maj. Eliraz Peretz, and St.-Sgt. Ilan Sviatkovsky.  Eliraz had eulogized his brother who died in Lebanon twelve years ago.  We thought of his wife and four children, and of his mother.  Ilan was only twenty-one years old, nearing the end of his army duty, with all the plans and dreams of youth.  We began to sing "Acheinu" with full hearts.  I don't think my sons have ever connected to the reality of national loss in quite this way before.

We also had an unusual guest this year.

Like many Jews all over the world, we had an empty chair behind a Seder plate set for our precious missing soldiers and for Jonathan Pollard, in prison now for more than a quarter of a century.

We chose a very un-elegant chair -- as we wanted to imagine them sitting in the nicest chair any of them might actually have nearby at this moment.

Our sons really got the story of Pesach this year (which is good, as they are not so very many years from telling the tale to their very own precious children, bs"d).  Yeshiva Bochur shared how he feels that this is a personal exodus for him, as he is spending his first year in Israel as a one-Seder citizen.  And all of the boys shared that being in Israel adds to the significance of the Seder for them, and to the ongoing saga of our people toward the great Geula -- may Hashem hasten it, so that all of our people will taste freedom in our own Land, bimhera ve'ameinu.

Glossary:
Erev Pesach: the preparatory day before Passover
Chag: holiday
Yishuv: small community; settlement
Mitzvah: G-d-given commandment
Biur Chometz: the mitzvah of burning the leaven, to rid ourselves of any trace before the holiday begins
Machzorim: special books for each holiday, with rituals and prayers
Matzot: unleavened bread
Mitzri: Egyptians in the time of the Israelites' exodus from slavery
Yiddishkeit: Judaism
Maror: bitter herbs served at the Seder to remind us of slavery and great national sorrow -- usually horseradish or romaine
Acheinu: "Our Brothers" -- a prayer requesting that G-d ease the suffering of all Jews, no matter where they are in the world
BS"D: with the help of Heaven
Geula: the great Redemption, the End of Days, when there will be peace in the whole world
Bimheira v'ameinu: speedily and in our days

Welcome to the club!

Yom rishon, 6 Nisan 5770.

I have to get over to Ramat Shlomo to visit friends who have lived there for many years, not realizing that they were living in "East Jerusalem."  (Thank G-d that President Obama and Ban Ki-moon have clarified matters for them; otherwise they might have thought forever that they were living in a Northeastern Hareidi Jewish community for the last 15 years.  Or maybe there has been some kind of tectonic shift over time?  Perhaps with all of the global warming, the community has actually shifted eastward???)

 
Anyway, I have to drop by and give the Mommy of the family her Settler/Obstacle to Peace Kit, to induct her into the club.  We spoke about it on the phone today.

"Me?  An 'Obstacle to Peace'?  I can't believe it!  I've always wanted to be a settler," she fairly sang.

"Well, sometimes we can't move to the settlements -- so the settlements move to us," I said, paraphrasing Bacon.  (She's a literary type; and I thought she would like it if I tried to sound well-read.  After all, not just anybody should go about conferring prestigious awards.)

My friend is very fair-minded.  "You really should be giving them out to the people in Tel Aviv," she said.

"Don't worry.  They will get theirs.  Right now, the Tel Avivians are in denial, and don't realize they are settlers."

"Eventually, an American President and a UN Secretary-General will come to their rescue, too, and clear things up for them," she said, ever mindful of the future of all of our holy people.

"We can only pray," I said.  (Remember, I told you she is Hareidi.)  Then we chatted about the imminence of Moshiach, in these extremely hafuch times, when right is wrong, up is down, and the good guys wear the black hats.  (Or the kipot serugot, as the case may be...)

The Official Settler/Obstacle to Peace Kit

The bracelet says: "The Land of Israel for the Nation of Israel."

 This is the kit I will be presenting to my dear friend, Jewish sister, and now fellow settler.  The authentic Gush Etzion parsley -- just as in fancy restaurants -- is only for show.

May we experience together the coming of Moshiach, speedily and in our days, when things that just don't make any sense finally do.

Haveil Havalim #261 -- the best of the Israeli/Jewish blogosphere -- is live at Jack's place.  By the way, Jack seems to get stuck hosting this a lot.  Even if you are a budding blogger, take my word for it:  it's not as difficult as it seems to be a host; Jack will help you; and lots of people who never would have seen your blog drop by for a visit.  FEAR NOT.

Glossary:
Obstacle to Peace: what the media constantly call people who live in Biblical Israel
Settler: a term that used to be something the world was proud of, referring to people who risked malaria to drain swamps to turn completely empty, neglected land in Israel into thriving farm collectives; recently used by the media to refer pejoratively to people who now live in those precise areas
Moshiach: Messiah
Hafuch: upside-down
Kipot serugot: knitted skull caps, usually indicating a fierce love of G-d, His Nation, and His Land

Chez Mizrachi Cleans for Pesach -- Recruits Youth

Yom shishi, 4 Nisan 5770.

I have so much to do.  There is no time to write.  But I really miss this blog -- and I miss talking to you!

So, this will be brief, and to the point.  (Let's face it:  you don't have any more excess time than I do, right?)

How could I possibly get the place cleaned for Pesach without the assistance of my dear sons?



And a short reminder of what is really sababa about living in Israel (because you expect this of me):

This holy book store / music store is in the Central Bus Station in Jerusalem.  The sign says "Great joy, great joy, Spring has arrived, Pesach is coming."  The part of me that enjoys a sense of family, that likes belonging to a large club of like-minded people, is very happy.

Let's take a brief stroll through Yerushalayim together.  There are a few sights I want to share with you.

I know they make caffè latte elsewhere in the world.  But in Israel, "Hafuch" rates as the national beverage -- and as a comment on the national character.  Life may be a little "upside-down" here.  Yihiyeh besder...

Yerushalyaim is The City of Fundraising, to put it gently.  Eventually, everyone has favorite tzedaka collectors.  One of mine is David Hamevorach.  David has a great story.  He used to be an architect in Zurich, Switzerland.  He even helped to make some buildings grow in Tel Aviv.  One day, according to David, he discovered that while he was fabulously successful, he was "soul-less."  He left the slam-bang world of architectural success, moved to Jerusalem, and started to sell his paintings in a small art gallery near the Central Bus Station.

In the Holy City, David was moderately successful as a painter -- but more importantly, he was finding his soul.  He discovered that those buildings hadn't gone up "by my might, and the strength of my hand."  Rather, they were miracles of Hashem.

One Purim, he decided to put his works on display in Ben Yehuda, spicing up the event with a washing cup to collect coins, a child's tambourine, and his own joyful Moshiach-oriented songs, electronically amplified.  People not only forked over some reasonable cash -- he was also repeatedly asked for blessings "by people who thought the gray beard made me look wise.  I'm not a rabbi," he told them.  But that didn't matter.  They wanted his brachot (blessings).  So, why not?  He dispensed brachot, and felt very good about himself and what he was doing with his time.  He kept up this gig.  After a while, grateful "clients" would come back, telling him that his brachot had been successful.

David gave me directions to the gallery to see his art.  "We will come," I said, "but only if it will not be 'ganeivat da'at.'  We don't have money to buy paintings."

"Chas v'shalom!" cried David.  "I don't want you to buy my paintings!  I just want you to see them.  These days," he said, looking Heavenward, "Hashem clearly takes care of all of my needs."  Then he closed our conversation as he always does:  "When you smile for Hashem, you will always be happy."

Enjoy the spirituality of your Pesach preparations.  Enjoy Pesach.  I heard once that if you do nothing else, try to connect to gratitude at the culmination of the Seder.  According to Rabbi Lawrence Kelemen, this act can transport you to higher madreigot than you have ever reached spiritually.

When you smile for Hashem, you will always be happy.

This is my bracha for you.

Glossary:
Pesach:  Passover
Sababa: great, cool
Hafuch: literally "upside down" -- the Israeli name for caffè latte
Yihiyeh beseder: It will be okay.  This is THE Israeli slogan.  It probably keeps us from going insane.
Tzedaka: charity
Moshiach: Messiah
Brachot: blessings
Ganeivat da'at: literally "stealing the mind" -- a Jewish law prohibiting one from leading a merchant to believe one is interested in buying his wares, if he is in fact totally disinterested
Chas v'shalom!: Heaven forbid!
Madreigot: steps, levels, a really great Jewish spiritual rock band