Tag Archives: religion

Unity

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I always look forward to the Sabbath – it is a respite, an oasis of calm in an otherwise hectic life. It is a time for family, good food, rest, and learning. I truly love the Sabbath day. However, this past Sabbath was particularly special. It was one of those times where we get reminded of the good that we have.

This past Sabbath, the synagogue I attend hosted an event which brings together 8th grade students from a local day school and members (along with their advisors) of an organization, Yachad, that works with disabled people. The disabilities could be physical or mental and differ in terms of severity. The purpose of the retreat seems to be to give parents of the disabled children some assistance and even more importantly to give the kids a chance to socialize with others while the day school students are inculcated with an understanding and appreciation for those with challenges.

My family and I hosted a Yachad member and his advisor. A few moments before the Sabbath began, a short 13-year-old boy with some sort of mental challenges and his advisor, a soft spoken college student came into our home. After quick introductions, the two – boy and advisor – proceeded to ready for the Sabbath. The boy had a propensity for kissing and did it almost indiscriminately. In fact, the advisor said, “Sometimes he just kisses people. I’ll try and control him, but it is probably going to happen.” I reassured him that it was fine. We could deal with affection just fine, thank you.

In the approximately 15 minutes from the time the boy and his advisor arrived till we drove to Synagogue, my 8-year-old came up the stairs and said “the boy keeps kissing me. He really likes me. I think he loves me.” My 5-year-old actually shared his trains and any other toy that the boy was interested in playing with. The boy’s displays of affection and interest in my younger son’s toys had not bothered my children at all. I could not have been prouder.

Our close contact with the guests was limited as over the next 25 hours or so, they spent most of their time at the synagogue as part of the retreat. They had meals, singing, and dancing together with the 8th graders. However, during the limited time I did have some opportunities to observe and speak to the advisor. The explained that he knew the boy as he had served as his advisor at a summer camp specifically for the Yachad kids. His patience and diligence served him well and the bond between the two was clear. The advisor who was exhausted by the end of Sabbath mentioned how he would like to go into Social Work. He clearly has the temperament and makeup for this type of work. I tried talking to the boy but had limited success. One thing, however, was clear – he enjoyed himself immensely.

So, this Sabbath was special for all the usual reasons and for many more. The special feelings generated during prayer were palpable. The willingness and desire for everyone to be united together — the Yachad — was touching for us all.

That is a Blessing

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I am a very lucky person, blessed I would say. With a busy life and great expectations and hopes, it often takes something or someone to remember the good in my life.

It was another early morning in the Bernstein household. This one was planned, though the boys did wake up even earlier than was necessary after taking turns crawling into our bed.  However, I don’t want to focus on sleep – not the reason I feel blessed. Anyway, the event that had my family and I stirring this morning took place at my older son’s school.  He and his class were putting on a play. They did all kinds of cute 7 year old things – dressed in costumes, said their lines (some shyly and some loudly), and sang (some on key and some not so much).

While the play was nice and my son put on a fine performance which clearly displayed how much he has grown since last year’s production – said his lines loudly, if a little quickly, and sung the words and did the hand gestures – there was more to it that made me proud.  This was billed as a Chumash or bible play.  After the performance segment of the play was complete, each student, or performer as they were this morning, was called down from the front stage to another centrally located area which is elevated.  At this second mini stage, families were able to join their child to formally present him or her with a Chumash and pose for a picture.  When we met our son there, my wife gave him the Chumash, and I had to keep from squeezing him in a big hug (I can only imagine how embarrassed he would have been) but instead placed my arm on his shoulder.

Later on that day, my son had the book open, sat on the window ledge, and was reading the weekly portion.  For all the pride I took in seeing my son’s performance, I felt even happier seeing him taking the book on his own.  My little boy who thinks any sentence that has the word fart in it his hilarious, my little boy who loves to splash in the bath, my little boy who delights in spending hours playing with lego is growing up. He is growing up into someone I am so proud of. That is a blessing!

A Time to Consider

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The Jewish holiday of Rosh Ha Shana is just about upon us. The New Year or head of the year as it is literally translated is an exciting and challenging time of the year. 

R.H. has the bells and whistles that each Jewish holiday has – food!  The customary foods people eat at this time of year are rounded challah with raisins and apples dipped with honey.  Neither one of them leaves me swooning for more, but I make sure to have them.  After all, I do like traditions. Sweet foods in general will permeate holiday tables to remind us to pray for a sweet new year.  Unfortunately, we might not get the idea until too much of the food has been eaten, so it is not a good holiday for diets!

I find R.H. to be one of the more difficult and challenging holidays of the year.  This holiday begins a process which is focused on repentance (actually pretty much any re word would have worked there) and hope.  We are instructed to pray and ask G-d to forgive us for our misdeeds of the year.  We pray that the coming year should be one where we are blessed, recognize those blessings, and fulfill the promise of those blessings.  

As I have gotten older, I find I have more to pray for.  It’s not just my sports teams winning (by the way, terrible loss for the Eagles last Sunday), doing well in school, and for it to be summer again.  I think of my family, friends, work, and the world in general which seems to have gotten both bigger and smaller as I have aged. However, I believe one of the major themes is internal introspection (I wonder what trend therapists have noted about this time of the year).  I strive to consider what I have accomplished during the past year and what I would like to accomplish during the coming year.  I review my personal growth – both my successes and failings.  I am one of those people who is his own harshest critic. Maybe, it is a form of conceit, but I believe that I can and should strive to accomplish great things and do it while being a great person.  In the end though, I see that as hope and that is the overriding theme of the holiday and the 10 day period that leads us into Yom Kippur. When I hear that shofar blast on Yom Kippur, I feel invigorated and hopeful that I can make the coming year better than the last. Of course, it will all start with the bagel and lox waiting at home for me. Shana tova.

Family Tonic

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Someone forwarded me an article the other day which I happened to read. In my drive for organization, I often delete this type of item with barely a glance. I take great joy and feel a sense of accomplishment when my inbox is empty (unlike my gas tank).  Everything has been handled – ahh, relax. Anyway, the article is about a Jewish man who is 101 years old.  He and his wife lived in Poland around World War II. They left their one and a half year old daughter on a doorstep of a lawyer and his wife who did not have a child. They hoped that the lawyer and his wife wanted a child. They put a crucifix on her and a note begging that she be taken care of. What must that have been like – leaving your baby on the steps of a stranger ignoring her cries as you walk away?  I can’t imagine. Ultimately, the man survived the Holocaust, but his wife did not.  He also fought as part of the Warsaw Ghetto uprising.  The article goes on to tell of the difficulties the man had in finding his daughter after the war and the life they made for themselves.

Yesterday was August 10th, the day of my maternal grandmother’s birthday. Actually, that is when she celebrated it.  Her birthday and the exact year she was born remain a mystery. Records were not kept in Russia when she was born, at least not for Jews.  It’s as if she and all the Jews did not matter all that much.  They could live on their shtetls and try to avoid pogroms and eke out a living, but as individuals they did not matter. Ultimately, my grandmother, along with three of her siblings and her mother, escaped Russia and after an extended stop-over in Romania made it to America where her father had been working for 10 years in order to bring them over.  A few years after arriving in America, my grandmother met my grandfather and the rest is history – well family history – as they say.  My grandmother chose to have her birthday on August 10th because that was also her wedding anniversary (Yesterday would have been their 81st anniversary. My paternal grandparents got married August 9th 80 years ago.)  I think that says a great deal about the kind of person she was. Birthdays are a time when an individual is celebrated – cake, presents, etc. However, she chose to forego all that and instead celebrate her birth on the same day as her marriage. My grandmother faced the difficulties an immigrant faces in addition to medical and financials struggles, but she and my grandfather got by.  Ultimately, for my grandmother it was about family, the kinder, – that was the most important thing to her.

My grandmother and the gentleman noted above come from a different world than the one we live in today. It was a world where Jews were irrelevant and much worse. It is easy to imagine that the drive to survive in a hard world could leave one bitter and angry. However, the tonic they found in family is one we can all look to today as well.