Dei'ah veDibur - Information & Insight
  

A Window into the Chareidi World

12 Tishrei 5761 - October 11, 2000 | Mordecai Plaut, director Published Weekly
NEWS

OPINION
& COMMENT

HOME
& FAMILY

IN-DEPTH
FEATURES

VAAD HORABBONIM HAOLAMI LEINYONEI GIYUR

TOPICS IN THE NEWS

HOMEPAGE

 

Produced and housed by
Shema Yisrael Torah Network
Shema Yisrael Torah Network

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Home and Family
To Gaze Beyond
by Rifca Goldberg, Tzefas

My grandmother's eyes are aqua-speckled ponds of gentle calmness. And when she smiles, her eyes become two happy smiles themselves in her finely etched face. She's slowed down by arthritis and she's lost part of her hearing, but her eyes... How I love those eyes! Their altering color flickers with wisdom, experience and patience.

It's been a full year since I last saw her, right before we made aliya. Our too-short monthly overseas phone conversations didn't compare with our lengthy, face-to-face conversations, which often lingered deep into the night darkness.

On the long bus ride to finally see Grandma in her new home here in Eretz Hakodesh, with my baby comfortably settled on my lap, I took advantage of the lack of stimulation. No dishes, no laundry. I could think unhurriedly, unpressured, and just think. I settle back, breathed easier, and reviewed my last conversation with Grandma right before Rosh Hashona last year.

I had curled up on her couch. For me, my Grandmother's couch had always been equated with security and relaxation. A place where I could open up and tell my most childish secrets and fears and receive acceptance and reasurance. Now that I was older, our conversations were more Torah oriented but the comfortable feeling of her couch would always stay with me.

"You know," I had said to her, leaning over to take a piece of pre-yomtov cake from the plate on her coffee table, dessert after a full meal, "I was at a class last night and the teacher mentioned something that I've heard often enough. The concept of each day of creation comparing to a millenium and that right now, our generation is living in erev Shabbos, so to speak. The difference this time was that after class, I kept thinking about that. For me on a weekly basis, erev Shabbos is a time of hustle and bustle, running around to do all the last minute details, regardless of how much I did in advance. Doesn't that describe this generation, Grandma? So many people are racing down the walkways, talking away on their cell phones, speed driving, fast foods -- fast everything! It seems like everyone is so overwhelmed!"

Grandma smiled at me. "You're an insightful young lady, aren't you?" She put her hand on her chin, wrinkling her brow in concentration, and finally focused on me, her eyes sparkling turquoise. "All the modern day technology can really help us to do mitzvos. If people are rushing to help a fellow Jew, then all the rushing is productive. It's important to recognize the good in situations."

I hadn't looked at it from that angle and once I came back home, I thought about what she had said for a long time.

And now, as anxious as she had been to hold my first child and her newest great-grandchild, so had I been anxious to look into those two eyes of liquid purity.

As I alit from the bus, I saw her, waiting for me. We went slowly, arm in arm, to her apartment. This was the first time I saw her apartment here in Rehovot. Her dining room table glossed to a sheen in the eating area commanding chairs upholstered with material of little sailboats on rolling emerald waves. Everything tasteful, practical and pleasant. Just like Grandma. But looking around, I felt a sudden grittiness in my throat.

My best friend had gotten married less than a month ago and her mother-in-law was buying her the most beautiful furnishings. I never thought of myself as a jealous person, but every time I went to visit Chani, I was stung with my own envy. Last night, her mother-in-law had bought her curtains -- sheer elegant cream drapes with deep chestnut colored embroidered flowers at spaced intervals. "It's not really my taste," she confided in me, "but it's not worth arguing with my mother-in-law! And they certainly are pretty." Certainly pretty! I'd say! I clasped my mouth tightly shut. It wasn't Chany's fault that she had me jumping with jealousy.

Before my grandmother even stepped foot into her kitchen, I began to pour out my mixed emotions alternating between the powerful, blinding emotion of sudden jealousy ("Why did she have to get a mother- in-law with taste and money together? And she doesn't even like it!") and the just as powerful emotion of remorse ("How can I think such thoughts? Chani is such a good person! I would never want anything to be taken from her, G-d forbid!").

My grandmother sifted flour, measured ingredients, and beat the batter for her honey cake as I spoke on and on. When I was completely finished, she observed me quietly and then said, "The eyes see; the heart wants. Your emotions are quite normal, darling. The question is what to do with them. I suggest that every time the sensation of jealousy comes, use your emotional powers to pray for Chani to have more and to truly appreciate it! You'll see, after a while, the yetzer hora will stop inciting you with feelings of jealousy since it doesn't want you to use that strength of emotion to pray for her!"

After a short inner resistance, I had to admit that her tactic made sense. "I suppose I could pray for Chani to get what she really likes. And I can pray for her and her mother- in-law to have a wonderful, open relationship and..."

Suddenly, I found myself standing on Grandma's sofa, my three- month-old baby clutched in my arms. Why do cockroaches cause such reactions in (some) women?

Grandma's eyes smiled in laughter. She aimed her shoe directly at the culprit. Finito. Then she slowly got up, even more slowly bent over, and disposed of the small creature.

I carefully lowered myself to a sitting position, trying not to squirm in embarrassment as I awaited her response.

She settled herself into her overstuffed chair and closed her eyes, chuckling softly, as she caught her breath. "When your mother was young, she also jumped from insects and small animals. She actually had a phobia about certain things, like harmless grasshoppers. But as she got older, her eyesight grew dimmer and she would catch herself jumping from small objects that she mistook for insects, like a black pawn from a chess set or a safety pin. She would bemoan her fate to me, questioning why she had inherited her father's myopic vision rather than my good eyesight."

I looked at the picture-covered area of wall nearest me, with photos of my grandmother's extended family, including my mother, adorned in her thick, plastic rimmed glasses. I couldn't remember her ever being nervous about bugs, though.

"She grew, darling, and as she grew older, and wiser, she stopped jumping back from every little object, until such things didn't bother her, especially since it was so hard for her to see what they really were. I believe she came to the conclusion that since whatever she was seeing was probably nothing to be afraid of, she'd react to it as if it really was nothing -- which it usually was, or wasn't, whichever way you look at it."

On the bus ride home, I thought about this aspect of my mother that I hadn't even been aware of. Not seeing well had actually improved her life!

The rolling motion of the bus rocked my infant into a deep sleep on my lap. I looked out the window at the undulating Galilean hills, their different shades of far-away blue blending together peacefully. I let the land fill me, as I watched a village draw closer, the roofs white with reflected sunshine sparkling halfway up the hillsides. The graceful curves of roads and hills together made a fairy tale view.

So much beauty! I felt overwhelmed with gratitude over my good vision, which enables me to see this beauty around me. So very much goodness here in our land, and in our people!

I suddenly realized that not seeing really does have its benefits. Not seeing the faults of others, not seeing the irrationalities and the awkwardness of those around me, not jumping at every small `thing.'

The baby stirred and I patted her back rhythmically.

I felt a rush of excitement about my new insight and started thinking of ways to implement this discovery when dealing with my family and those around me, especially now, in this month of Tishrei. We yearn for Hashem to overlook our negative qualities and hope for Him to only focus on our positive qualities and actions. Now is such a good time to do likewise with our fellow Jew! I began to think of better ways to judge favorably, or better yet, not to judge at all! Visualizing situations in my mind to `see' with discerning perception.

You know, maybe, just maybe, I do have eyes similar to my grandmother's.

 

All material on this site is copyrighted and its use is restricted.
Click here for conditions of use.