I have a Shiva call to make…perhaps today, maybe tomorrow. Acknowledging someone’s loss is different from acknowledging someone’s grief. Even things that are similar are uniquely personal; we feel the depth of their mourning, we sense their pain, but in truth we cannot begin to fathom their emptiness. I must try not to gaze into the hollow of their stare. They know I have been there and there will be no comfort for anyone in this realization.

This is the loss of a child. He was a child of promise, of hope, but his goals and dreams were senselessly ended by a creature whose life was devoid of logic or reasoning or love. One more victim in the cycle of Muslim terror and determination. And there is determination and purpose in the actions of the Muslims. And we must recognize their actions as strategy…not as desperation.

Advertisement




They are not mothers. They are machines manufacturing “weapons of destruction.” They are not fathers. They merely sow the production line. They are not children. They are ammunition. They are not a nation. They are a cancer, spreading rapidly — and not only through  the holy land.

How can I be so callous? Children are not children? Flesh is not all created in Hashem’s image? If all is created by Hashem, does it not have value and purpose? Sure they are. Sure it does. And could that value and purpose be yet another wakeup call? Do we, as Jews, not collectively see our role? Can we see it, yet not understand? Can we understand without responding?

I believe that “business as usual” is a healthy response to the devastation America, Israel and all of Klal Yisrael are experiencing. And I am concerned that we might not recognize the enemy within the borders of every country. I am concerned with the “not me” mentality that exists in the minds of too many peoples. These events are not isolated nor narrowly focused. We are merely the beginning…there is an insidious goal within the Muslim world.

So we read about it and shake our heads. We make a few calls and count our blessings. We pray and acknowledge the other person’s loss. And each time one more country, one more community, one more family experiences the emptiness, the futility…and we weep.

This time the pain seeped into central Pennsylvania; Harrisburg, the capitol of the state, where decisions of justice and mercy are made. This time the loss touched me as a friend of the parents of Benjamin Blutstein, of blessed memory.

This time I was jolted back to June. I test my memory for every word and gesture. I want to pen my experience and share it as part of the legacy of someone who was to return to the States for a visit last Thursday. He was returned on Wednesday. Children should not come home in boxes.

Benjamin Blutstein was a sweet young man. I shared his company on two occasions in June as I drove him from and then to Newark airport. This was a brief visit, with a return visit scheduled for last Thursday. As I watched him saying good-bye to his mother and sister I concluded this visit may have been for hugs. The love and warmth was contagious and fed into the tone of our conversation. The conversation was upbeat, as was his style. He loved life. He spoke so joyously about his schooling, goals, his love of his family and his people…and all humanity.

He spoke of a future filled with purpose and fulfillment. He spoke of his concern for the tragedy and atrocities occurring on the streets of Israel. He said things were different now from when he began his studies in Israel. He said his father had requested that he not travel by bus and he intended to respect and adhere to that suggestion. He smiled strongest as he spoke of the sweetness of his only sister, Rivkah, and the love and support of his parents. Ben spoke with a new maturity as he focused on his purpose and connection to the land and the peoples of Israel.  This was someone you had to like…or love.

Life is different now. In one week he has been eulogized and memorialized internationally. Fellow students, friends and the Harrisburg community in Israel escorted the coffin to the airport. The sanctuary of Kesher Israel Congregation was filled for the funeral. The procession to the cemetery wound around and around the streets of Harrisburg as we traveled to his final place of rest. In our conversations I learned of feelings and goals. In the speeches I learned of his accomplishments and his connections. I’m glad I knew this young man. His smile and wonder will always be a part of my purpose.

We must each — individually and collectively — begin and continue to bring about resolution. We must learn carefully, process completely…and act. We must explain and clarify and explain and clarify. We cannot leave our future and the well-being of Hashem’s world to whimsy or evil design. We are responsible for what happens in the world.

Now I must stop writing and change my clothes…I have a Shiva call to make.

Advertisement

SHARE
Previous articleMedia Friends Top Ten
Next articleUN Report Debunks Fleet Street Lies
Sharron Ellyce is a published poet who formerly owned and operated NiceTouchMarketingConcepts. She currently operates what she describes as a "modest" kosher lodge and catering business called Rachel's Rest/The Kitchen Maven. She intends to relocate to the Scranton area by next Pesach.