Got that pioneering spirit? You’re invited to help build Israel’s periphery by planting roots in southern soil with Nefesh B’Nefesh.
I found myself hoping that what she meant was that she no longer was “entrenched” in the parsha now, but would still be associated with it. I think that everyone who is not a hermit and living isolated in a cave should be actively involved in networking on behalf of the singles in their communities, and helping someone else’s child get under a chuppah. No one should feel that they can “retire” from fulfilling the mitzvah of creating batim ne’emanim b’Yisrael.
We are the souls of the children who were never born,
The would-have-been-offspring of the lonely and forlorn,
We never came into being, our chance at life denied,
Never becoming a kaddish, or a community’s source of pride.
Our never-married potential parents, on the outside looking in,
Wished mazel tovs to others – but silently wept within.
“May it be my turn soon,” each would daily pray,
But in vain did they wait for that magical day.
As the years accumulated, so did our “parents’ ” distress,
Wondering in the darkness if they would ever find happiness.
Dealing daily with despair, they continued with their lives,
Yet fearing in their hearts that they would remain deprived.
If only those who knew them had gotten more involved,
So many wrenching worries could have been resolved,
With a bit more effort, so much depression would have dissolved,
For it is around the family that Yiddishkeit revolves.
They allowed themselves to hope that they would get relief,
They looked to their community with optimistic belief,
That someone would say something, someone would have a thought,
Fortified by interest, whether a suggestion worked or not.
You knew they were among you, singles wanting to meet,
They hoped that your input would rescue them from defeat.
But many of you gave up early, many never tried at all,
So apathetic to their plight, you never bothered to call.
These unfulfilled non-marrieds continued living on their own,
Never finding one another, they spent their lives alone.
So close, yet so far, their paths never crossed,
For them and for all of us – an immeasurable loss.
And we, the non-born children of unions that could have been,
We remain nameless, our faces never seen.
Not having a beginning, we are no one’s continuation,
A timeless chain interrupted, missing links of our nation.
As the offspring of men and women, warm, talented and bright,
To our parents and Am Yisrael, we would have been a light.
We had so much potential, we had so much to give,
But we are just wishful dreams, never given a chance to live.
We are the generations that never came to be,
We will never make a difference in our people’s destiny.
We will never learn Torah, nor have children of our own,
We were the seeds that should have blossomed,
But were never sown.
About the Author:
If you don't see your comment after publishing it, refresh the page.
Comments are closed.
No tweets found.
Rewind sixty years to 1953.
Television was considered kosher by most and featured the likes of Desi Arnaz, Lucille Ball, Jack Benny, George Burns, Red Buttons, Perry Como, Arthur Godfrey, Clayton Moore as The Lone Ranger, Dinah Shore, Red Skelton, Danny Thomas, Jack Webb as Joe Friday on “Dragnet” and many others who provided great memories.
Yet all are part of one neshamah, planted in rich, verdant soil, determined to grow. May our garden continue to produce a glorious assortment of flowers and trees, each attached firmly to its roots. Our diverse southern vegetation flourishes and grows into different trees, flowers, and fruits, and a rainbow of glorious shades and hues appears. Yet each shoot is rooted in the same soil, stretching its branches and blossoms heavenward in an endless pursuit of growth and connection to the One above.
This past Lag B’Omer, we were blessed to make our first upsherin, where we celebrate our son’s first hair cut. It’s a wonderful milestone that mimics the three years that we refrain from plucking a tree’s first fruits and symbolizes the entry of the child into the world of Torah learning. It’s a clear sign to everyone; this boy is no longer a baby.
Although there are more direct and faster routes to Beer Sheva and Eilat and all the sites and towns in-between, the Basor River is one of the beauties of the Negev that defiantly justifies a diversion.
The importance of death customs has been ingrained in me since birth. When I served as a shomeret for my grandmother, I was instructed not to eat, drink or perform a mitzvah in the same room. In the shock of death, it seemed rather inane to be told it would be considered mocking the dead. My grandmother was gone; she couldn’t do those things because she didn’t exist anymore, a fact that still makes me tear up.
I would have to say that one of the most annoying things about having a newspaper advice column, aside from all these people writing to me and asking for advice, is that they frequently don’t tell me WHY they’re asking.
Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv zt”l, who passed away on 28 Tammuz, (July18) this year at age 102, spent all of his days and most of his nights learning Torah. He was the paramount leader of our generation, and inspired tremendous awe and reverence in everyone who knew him. Now, every woman has the stunning opportunity to do something in his memory. A Sefer Torah is being written in his memory and women around the world have the chance to dedicate a letter.
Due to her family situation, it is understandable that she will have more responsibilities than other girls her age, but she would benefit from having some free time and receiving more appreciation for her hard work.
For children, summer means outdoor sports, picnics, and of course, no school! Teachers and students work hard all year long – and everyone deserves a break from education over the summer. However, this two-month break can often have some pretty devastating consequences.
It was only after we celebrated the great news that we were expecting twins that we saw the first sign of problems. First of all, my wife was losing, not gaining weight, even as the babies continued to grow normally. Soon after, routine blood work revealed that my wife was suffering from gestational diabetes.
Rabbi Pinchas Gruman is the new rav of the Minyan at Aish Tamid.
One of the most respected Torah figures in Los Angeles, Rabbi Gruman has been described as “The Los Angeles link in the mesorah of the yeshiva world” by Rabbi Nachum Sauer. As a talmid in Lakewood in the 1950s, Rabbi Gruman received semicha from Rav Aaron Kotler, zt”l, and Rav Moshe Feinstein, zt”l. Soon after, he moved to Los Angeles.
A popular topic of discussion in newspapers, magazines and talk shows revolves around the management of personal finances – or rather the lack of them. In most cases, dealing with overwhelming debt is the topic de jour. Seems many people are drowning in it. Spending more than they have has mired countless consumers into a financial quicksand with maxed out credit cards and collection agencies knocking on the door. Speaking of doors, many face eviction and the loss of their home.
One of the subjects I was taught as a young child in school was Tefillah. Since we spoke only Ivrit during our Limudei Kodesh and secular Hebrew studies – literature, creative writing and Jewish history – we pretty much understood the words we were davening.
Shortly before Pesach, I received a rather agitated call from a long time reader of The Jewish Press who pleaded with me to write a column regarding what she insisted was the unwarranted high cost of Pesach food – in particular shmurah matzah – and how hard it was for young families to pay what she felt were over-inflated prices in order to keep strictly kosher.
The price of deliberate obliviousness is very high – emotionally, physically, socially, and financially.
How is it possible that a person of seemingly normal intelligence (nowhere does it say he is simple) not have the ability to ask a question – to not react and enquire as to the why of the hustle and bustle around him?
It was one of those cold, rain-soaked evenings – the kind that make you look forward to a hot drink, a good book and a soft couch to curl up on. With those happy thoughts in mind, I proceeded to cross to the other side of the street.
The other day I was shopping at a large supermarket and happened to go down the frozen foods aisle, past the endless freezers containing every imaginable flavor, shape and size of ice cream. I rarely buy. Rather I am like a tourist in a museum – gawking at wondrous objects that I know I can’t take home with me.
Printed from: http://www.jewishpress.com/sections/magazine/the-lament-of-the-unborn-children/2009/02/11/
Scan this QR code to visit this page online:
No related posts.