As we continue to count sefirah, we must not lose sight of what Chazal tell us about this period of time. Namely, the importance of being extremely careful with relationships bein adam lachaveiro.
We live in a time of unprecedented challenges from within and without. Klal Yisrael continues to grapple with a range of serious issues, and many individuals are experiencing a crisis in their personal lives. We are in desperate need of the zchus of ahavas chinam.
This week Israel commemorated Yom Hazikaron, honoring all those who fell in defense of the Land of Israel since the 19th century, as well as victims of terror attacks. This is an extremely painful day for the families of the fallen. It is also a day which has been used time and again by the secular against the chareidim to prove how disconnected they are from Israeli society.
We are not going to argue about the veracity of the facts. That would be ridiculous.
We are not even going to focus on the issue of how many, unfortunately, lost their lives due to the blatant irresponsibility of political and military leadership.
This is neither the time nor the place to discuss these points, but it is our duty to clarify these issues at a later time.
We are here to try to make our readers aware of the indescribable pain of tens of thousands of our brothers and sisters.
The poem which appears below speaks for itself.
If it will bring a measure of understanding to even a small percentage of our readers and will ease the pain of even one mother or father, it will have served its purpose.
V’hayah zeh sechareinu.
No. It doesn’t matter if my name is Sarah or Liat
No. It doesn’t matter if my last name is familiar or known, if its Berkowitz or Abutbul,
No, it doesn’t matter if I live in Yerushalayim, Ashkelon or the Golan Heights.
No, it doesn’t matter if I was born in Israel, U.S., if I made aliyah from Morocco or the former USSR.
It doesn’t even matter if I am religious, traditional or chareidi.
I am a Jewish mother.
I am a mother to a son who stayed with a smile always, always young.
He never aged, he didn’t turn gray, he didn’t gain weight. He is young forever.
The local cemetery, all over Eretz Yisrael.
There are many like him, not one, not two,
23,085 other Jewish soldiers.
Children to mothers like me.
They left behind families,
Brothers and sisters.
I am one of them.
One day a year, in the name of all
Of us mothers,
I want to ask you for a favor,
Something simple, not too
Please stop for a minute
To try and understand
Our terrible pain
That accompanies us,
Day and night, all year around
No, I won’t ask too much.
It’s too late to ask you to daven
For my son,
As Hashem took him.
No, I can’t expect
You to understand the depth
Of the terrible pain
Every day, all year around.
All I am asking is
Only one little prayer,
One chapter Tehillim