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*** THE ALIYAH REVOLUTION ALBUM ***

Monday, April 23, 2007

Yom HaZikaron, Golan Style


I'll admit it, I'm a crier. It's in my DNA. My mother is a crier. My Grandmother is a crier. I'm a crier. Lot's of things can set me off. Certainly saying goodbye to my crying grandmother, not knowing when I'll see her again makes me cry. A "realistic" Holocaust film portraying the Selection often makes me cry. Avinu Malkeinu during the Neilah service of Yom Kippur is one of the most powerful moments of the year for me. As I watch the Gates of Heaven closing for the last time of the year my heart is wrent in two as I beseech, beg really, Hashem for an ounce of His endless mercy to keep me and protect me one more year. I'm usually pretty certain He'll oblige, but the Grandness of the moment always overtakes me and leaves me sobbing in my Talit.

Yom HaZikaron can have the same effect on me. Last night's ceremony on Moshav Yonatan was one of the most moving Yom HaZikaron ceremonies I've been to since making Aliyah. Moshav Yonatan is named for Yonatan Rozenman, z"l who was killed on the Golan Heights in the Yom Kippur War and is the brother of one of the founders. The ceremony, like all Yom HaZikaron ceremonies began with the shrill siren, like a mechanical, monotone shofar. After a beautiful slide show of all the family and friends killed serving our country my son got a little tired, so I picked him up and held him the rest of the ceremony. Next everyone sang the seemingly simple request from Psalms: May there be peace within your wall, serenity within your palaces. That's when I lost it. A seemingly simple request, yet we're so far from it. As I sang that Psalm and nuzzled my nose into the sweet, musky, sweaty peyot of my three and a half year old boy, it finally hit home how badly we want peace within our wall and serenity within our palaces, but what it takes to achieve it. I felt pride at one day seeing my boy defend our Homeland but immediately was struck with the horrific, unspeakable sacrifice that could entail. I began sobbing into his little sweaty head. He let me sob for a few minutes, then took my wet cheeks in his little hands, kissed my lips, said, "Daddy, I love you" and put his head back on my shoulder.

After that it was difficult to regain composure, but I tried. We then sang one of Rambam's Thirteen Priciples of Faith: I believe with complete faith in the coming of the Mashiach, and even though eh may delay, nevertheless I anticipate every day that he will come. Here is a community that does believe with complete faith in our final Redemption, but that inevitability hasn't left them paralyzed in the Diaspora. In fact, it is the opposite; this is their, our, my, true inspiration that motivates us every second of the day to make this Home of ours better, holier and ever more prepared for our destiny.

There is no doubt the future is uncertain, but the memory of my boy taking my wet cheeks, kissing me and telling me that he loves me as I cry for our difficult past and dangerous future on Yom Hazikaron 5767 will be with me eternally.

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2 Comments:

  • At 3:00 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

    Don't make me cry too...

     
  • At 10:05 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

    I don't know if I've already dumped this message on you. If so, I apologise.

    I was the original foreign volunteer at Yonatan in 1979. I used to go back every five years or so, did a bit of work and enjoyed the environment.

    Then I had a gradual period of disillusionment with the Jewish world, Israel and the like. Gradually, all my friends left Israel leaving only the intolerant crusty relatives. So, I haven't been back for years.

    This autumn, I want to confront a few demons, get fit, refind the peace of picking apples, plums and mangoes and see old friends. If there are people who remember me still living in Yonatan I would love to hear from them. They can just search my name on the internet and find my e-mail address through my website.

    Adam Samuel

     

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