Last week we were in Morocco!

JWC Atlanta took a spectacular journey touring the length and breadth of this beautiful country. 

We saw breathtaking sunsets and were inspired by tales of great faith and courage. 

It was a trip that delighted the senses as we viewed intricate mosaics and magnificent buildings and inhaled the otherworldly scents of the tannery (iykyk) while sipping sweet tea with colorful locals in their indigenous environments. 

There was so much to see and digest, literally a feast for the senses.

When one returns from such a trip a common question is

“What was your favorite part?” 

I mulled over my response at length, but as I reviewed the trip over and over in my mind, there was something that came to the fore. 

It was not a scene or a place or an explosion of color. 

It was an action. 

It was kindness. 

For an entire week, I experienced a sisterhood of women who supported one another in sickness and in health, with sensitivity and kindness. I saw scenes of caring and thoughtfulness in a time that was meant to be an opportunity for focusing on self. 

It was the most inspiring view. 

If you are a tree hugger you are in luck. 

Monday is Tu BShvat, the 15th day of Shvat, and it’s the New Year for the trees. 

Find your favorite tree and wish it a  Happy Birthday. 🎈🎊🎂 

If, however, you take a close look at the tree you might pause, because the tree is probably not looking all that great right now. 

Why are we celebrating the withered specimen that is before us?

Doesn’t even look like that tree will even survive another year.

TuBshvat is the time when the sap deep inside the tree begins to move upward. This is a harbinger for the revitalization of said tree. 

It’s a holiday celebrating potential, the joy that is yet to bloom. 

Rabbi Yoel Teitelbaum, a Chassidic Rabbi of the 20th century shares a fascinating insight. He teaches that TuBShvat the New Year of the trees, is also the time we are judged as parents. 

Rosh Hashana is the birthday of the world and that is when humans are judged. But on the 15th day of Shvat we humans are evaluated on our parenting. 

Are we providing the proper nutrients for our children?

Are they receiving ample doses of the love they are thirsty for? Are they showered with the attention they need to thrive?Being a parent means planting seeds, laying roots, endlessly tending to the fragile blossoms and often waiting many seasons to see the fruit of our efforts, as we pray the little saplings are internalizing the messages we are attempting to implant in them. 

I remember my epiphany. 

A few years ago our children were visiting with their little ones.  I was in another room in my home and I overheard our oldest son speaking to one of his kids. At that moment, my husband entered the room and started to speak to me. 

I shushed him. 

When asked why, I responded with some shock

“Listen to what he is saying, those are my words coming out of his mouth. I was never quite sure he heard me!”

The motif of planting is a powerful and hopeful one. 

The fruits may be long in coming but we never give up hope. 

Our kids just returned from a few days at the beach. They were full of excitement as they told us all about their adventures. The little ones became seashell scavengers and brought back some beauties. They loved walking together in the sand collecting shells and making family memories. 

This week’s Torah portion is Bo, which means “come”. 

Gd commands Moses to go to Pharaoh to warn him about the upcoming 8th plague. 

Bo/come however does not seem to be the right word. Instead it perhaps should have said “lech/go”. 

Bo is word that connotes journeying together. 

Gd is telling Moses to come. They will go together on this expedition. 

Moses will not be left alone to carry the burden. 

Bo is a comforting word. 

Gd does not leave us alone to fend for ourselves. 

Hashem/Gd is real. 

He wants a relationship with us. 

This is in juxtaposition to Pharaoh who thinks he is a gd, but certainly doesn’t behave like one who cares very much. 

The plagues are bracketed by his selfish behavior. 

In the first plague of Blood, all the water in Egypt turned to blood.  The whole country was in a state of upheaval. In the midst of it all the verse tells us

“Pharaoh turned away and came to his palace”. 

Due to a merit Pharoah had accrued, he actually had water to drink, so instead of feeling the pain of his people, he just turned his back on them and closed the door. 

Nine plagues have elapsed. 

The last one, the death of the firstborn is beginning. Once again the country is in a turmoil. The screaming is unbearable as death visits every home. 

Finally Pharaoh is moved to action. He wakes up frantically in the middle of the night and literally begs the Jews to leave. 

This week’s Torah portion is host to the cataclysmic events of the ten plagues. These plagues turn nature on its head and are designed to make clear that Gd is the Creator of the world and is capable of creating phenomena beyond human comprehension. 

While the plagues were a one time phenom of that particular time and place, the narrative and events are embedded with lessons for eternity. 

We would expect that this sound and light show of the miraculous events which are unfolding would be preceded by some meaningful “drumroll” to tee up the coming attractions. 

Instead, the Torah portion Va’Eira precedes the unfolding miracles with yet another listing of the children of Jacob. 

Again?

We have been regaled multiple times with the roster of the family of Jacob. Why is it necessary to repeat it again?

Our Sages teach us that the miracles of the plagues are to be facilitated by our leaders, Moses and Aaron, and it’s important to know where they come from, because their leadership comes from their upbringing. 

The troika of leaders in Egypt, through the Exodus and during the desert sojourn, are siblings. Moses, Aaron and Miriam have the common denominator of leadership which stems from compassion. They do not lord it over the people, but firmly embed themselves in the midst of the nation, doling out compassion and loving support all the while. 

This is in stark juxtaposition to Pharoah, who incites terror, fear and wreaks all manner of destruction. 

The title of the book is Names, Shmot, but while we are introduced to the protagonists who lead with kindness and compassion, Pharaoh is actually anonymous. 

We never know his real name. 

Pharaoh is an appellation, like King or Prime Minister. 

He is not worthy of honorable mention. 

So let’s dive into the first plague  of Blood. 

Sivan Rahav Meir, popular Israeli correspondent and Torah educator, recently reported that a group of construction workers who were clearing debris at a building site came upon a startling find. They discovered a cache of artifacts that had been buried and wrapped in newspaper dated from 1939. Most of the items found were Judaica, as well as household objects of value. It seems that some of the denizens of Łódź Poland  had buried precious items hoping to protect them for the duration of the war. Tragically, no one survived World War II to reclaim their belongings. 

Sivan posted a photo of the retrieved items which had been carefully placed on a table for display. I looked at the picture and saw the expected items of Menorahs and Kiddush cups as well as some household items such as cutlery. Upon closer inspection of the photograph, I was amazed to recognize a style of spoons which were identical to those that belonged to my own grandmother. She had brought her cutlery with her when she escaped Germany. I grew up seeing those spoons on my grandparents table. When we cleaned out her apartment after her passing, I kept one of those spoons as a memento of my grandparents and the miracle of their survival. 

This is but another touch of the long arm of the Holocaust. 

I was shaken to the core as I was once again reminded of how close this devastating event is to me personally, and how grateful I am that our family escaped Germany and actually had the opportunity to live a life and to use those spoons. 

How differently the story might have been if the local populace would not have complied with the Nazi oppressors. How many more might have survived if there would have been more willing to stand up to tyranny. Perhaps more people could have returned to claim the detritus of their lives. 

If one might think this is too much to ask, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks of blessed memory, points us to this week’s Torah portion. 

A man was nearing the end of his days. His family gathered around his bed. With the last of his energies the man kept asking if all the family members were present. The loved ones quickly assured him that every single person was accounted for. 

“If everybody is here, then why are the lights on in the kitchen?” the man demanded. 

(If you know you know!)

Rabbi Avi Baumol serves the Jewish community in Krakow. Those of us who traveled to Poland in 2020, had the privilege of hearing him share stories of his interaction with the people who come to the Krakow JCC. He has shared how often people who are about to pass away make a death bed confession. Although they have lived their lives as Gd fearing Poles, as they feel their moments are numbered it is not unusual for them to reveal to their family members that they are Jewish. During the Nazi era, when being identified as a Jew meant a death sentence, some Jews assumed  a Polish identity, donned a cross, to save themselves and their children. They exhorted their children to never reveal the truth and often it was only at the end of life that the truth came out. Rabbi Baumol recently posted about Agnieszka whom he met on her way to Israel after her grandmother shared the shocking news of her Jewish origins. It is an all too common phenomenon, and the hope is that this shocking revelation will serve as a path forward on a journey to discovery of Jewish roots. 

This week’s Torah Portion is Vayechi (my Bat mitzva portion eons ago) and there is another family interaction around a death bed. Jacob’s children gather around him as he prepares to take leave from this world. 

And he has a secret to share too!

Jacob wants to reveal to his children how the end of days will play out. Just as he is ready to make the great reveal, his ability to prophesy leaves him and he is unable to continue. This development shakes Jacob to the core. 

For the past 17 years since he has been reunited with Joseph, Jacob has finally lived a life of serenity. All the challenges he has faced now make sense to him. In hindsight all the struggles fall into place, it’s a form of redemption which he wants to share with his children. But when he experiences the veritable writer’s block he is worried. Perhaps his children are not worthy. Perhaps all is not as it seemed. 

Jacob’s children respond with the clarion call of the Jewish people

Shma Yisroel, Hear Israel, Hashem our Gd ,Hashem is One. 

We are on board, we do accept the the kingship of Gd. 

We are your proper descendants, but it’s not the time to reveal what is going to happen in the future. 

As we are preparing to go into Exile, the Egyptian exile, we will not be able to see redemption, but we will feel it, we believe that it will ultimately happen. 

That is why we cover our eyes when we say Shma, because we can’t see the redemption, but we believe in it even though things look dark. 

How old are you?

When we are small children, that question is highly appropriate and is usually answered gleefully, with every quarter of a year carefully accounted for in the reply. 

As we mature, our response changes, we hope to look older than we are, as this will allow doors and experiences to become available to us, perhaps prematurely. 

The next stage is the opposite, as we do all we can to negate the passage of time and there is a vast industry devoted to helping us look younger than our stated age. 

And as we age, gracefully, hopefully, owning each wrinkle as a battle scar rightfully won, we hope we have achieved the highest level, when it is no longer proper to ask, how old are you?

In this week’s Torah portion, Vayigash, someone seems to commit a social faux pas. 

It is none other than Pharoah, the leader of the ancient world, who upon meeting Jacob for the first time, blurts out the words “how many are the days of your life?”

In plain English, how old are you?

The commentaries note the unusual nature of the King asking about the age of a tourist visiting his country. 

They explain that Jacob looked so very old, older than anyone Pharaoh had ever seen. 

Jacob responds to the implied question by saying, I am not as old as I look. I am not even nearly the age of Abraham, but I have prematurely aged due to the challenges I have encountered. 

Rabbanit Yemima Mizrachi, one of Israel’s most popular, current Torah teachers, shared a poignant memory. 

She recalls being present at the reading of her Father’s will after his passing. The reading began with the statement that he loved all his children equally. When she heard those words she was so comforted and felt no interest in the dispersal of material things. 

As she says, she felt she had inherited millions, property that no one could fight over. 

This is the time when we want to bequeath love to our children. 

Last night I went to pay a shiva call. The woman who passed away was the mother of a large family of 8 children. It was a blended family. She married a man who was divorced with three young children. When they married, she made a personal commitment to herself to love these children as her own. 

Was she successful?

I will share a few vignettes and you can decide for yourself. 

The youngest child was 2 years old when this woman became her stepmom. Coincidentally, they shared the same name. The husband/father suggested changing the little girl’s name. She was very young and he thought she would quickly forget her original name. 

His new bride wouldn’t hear of it. She said the little girl was having to adjust to so many new realities in her life and instead she would change her own name!

So, at the age of 30, she called herself by her middle name, and continued with that appellation for the rest of her life. 

When her illness had progressed and it was time for hospice care, all the children wanted her in their own home. Ultimately her last days were spent in the home of one of the stepdaughters because the accommodations there were best for her needs. 

At the funeral, her stepson, a man of extreme accomplishment, gifted with the ability to speak publicly with great elegance and regal presence, broke down in sobs as he attempted to eulogize his Mother. I have known him for over 30 years and never saw him express such raw emotion. 

I think we would all agree that this special woman was indeed successful. 

Through the power of her love and devotion, she was able to forge loving bonds of love that tied her family together in closeness and warmth. 

When I was growing up my Mom did not watch much television. The only exceptions that come to mind were when man landed on the moon and Lady Diana got married. 

Nowadays she does watch a bit, mostly British programs. 

When I last visited we watched Downton Abbey together. 

There is a scene where a housemaid who worked for the upper class family for two years comes back after a long absence. In the interim she has had the opportunity to better herself and now comes as the patron of an organization which helps young women who wish to have a chance for education. 

The family doesn’t recognize their former maid until the butler (it’s always the butler) reveals her secret. When they become aware she had worked for them for two years, the family was somewhat mortified. 

They were embarrassed that she had been in their service but they never really looked at her. 

She was invisible. 

When we go to the theater, we see the cast and recognize their contributions, but do we ever take a moment to realize that without the people behind the scenes, the show would not go on. 

Sometimes it’s the people we do not see, or pay attention to, who make all the difference. 

We need to see those who may appear to be invisible.