It is Sunday, the day after Yom Kippur and everyone you speak to says, “Thank G-d it’s over.” Just days earlier, the collective mood was comparable to what people feel when faced with a root canal – resignation over something unavoidable that you can’t wait to get over with. Very few would view Yom Kippur as a Yom Tov – a day of simcha.
For I had begun to realize that while the secular court was unapproachable – (you just can’t walk in and ask to see the judge) there was a way to right the wrong that had destroyed my tranquility and regain my peace of mind that had been so unexpectedly shattered.
In my case, the horrific situation that had caused me such anguish eventually was resolved and is gathering dust in a subterranean storage area deep in the recesses of my memory. However I have never forgotten the soothing sweetness of hope that suffused my sorry heart on that Day Of Appeal so long ago. For me, Yom Kippur will always be a Yom Tov – a day of goodness to be embraced and cherished and welcomed, all the days of my life.
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