I.
They both had waited a long time to find their mates. It had
been worthwile. Meir and Rivky complemented each other.
Quiet and outgoing. Light and serious. They grew together.
And then they waited together.
She: "It's easier to wait for children than to wait for a
mate, since now I'm not alone." They prayed; they tried to
improve themeselves, tried to relax in a comfort of trust in
the future.
Finally, they turned to their Rav for advice. Should they
travel to Meiron on Lag B'Omer and pledge that if they had a
child by the following year, they would donate the 18
rotel [about 54 liters] of drinks for distribution at
Meiron the following Lag B'omer?
R' Mordechai Gross advised them that it was best to go to
Meiron and to pray hard and earnestly. Like our Ovos and
Imohos. He in his corner; she in hers. And they should
promise that if they were blessed with a son, he would be
called Shimon.
There was no space among the hundreds of thousands for a
private corner, barely enough for you to hold up your
Tehillim in front of your nose! You leaned on someone's back
and tried to keep your balance. But you recited Tehillim with
fervor, surrounded by the thousands, also praying like their
life depended on it.
They were indeed blessed within a year and R' Gross was
honored as sandak of the newest little Shimon in
town.
(Heard from E. Ehrentreu)
II.
Gila was out of one marriage, waiting for a second chance.
But nothing was moving. She decided to go to the godol
hador in Bnei Brak for advice and a brochoh. He
advised her to pray at the tomb of R' Shimon bar Yochai that
she get engaged, married and have a son whom she would
dutifully call Shimon.
All went well, but a few days before the bris, Gila
returned to the rov, troubled and confused. How could she
honor her promise to name her baby Shimon -- her husband's
name? Maybe after all her waiting, she had married the wrong
person?
The rov reassured her that she had married her Heavenly-
intended but he advised her to call the baby a name that
sounded similar.
And so it was.
III.
Fire
by Tziporah Zien
Discarded planks, old rotten wood,
Thick, gnarled branches and doors are all good.
Gathered and waiting. Hidden away.
Soon to be utilized. Counting each day.
Flaming red, orange, yellow,
Red-orange, white!
Licking, lapping, draping, wrapping
Ascending, elating, never abating.
Consuming, encompassing, engulfing,
Stretching, flexing, pointing, rising,
Drawing upward, lifting, striving.
Beckoning, burning, twisting, turning,
Threatening, smoking, cleansing, choking,
Thirsting, bursting, collapsing, shining,
Glowing embers, purifying!
Amidst conflagration, a glimpse of the past!
That door was once yours before it was cast
Out on the junkpile, awaiting the truck.
Someone retrieved it from under the muck.
Now it has furnished the neighboring throng
With fuel for learning. They burst out in song!
And just as the flames have reduced all that stack
Into one broad and glowing charcoal-y mass;
Just so will the Torah configure our boys
As they grow in their learning; abandon their toys.
Flaming red, orange, yellow
Red-orange, white!
Licking, flapping, then escaping.
Ascending, weightless oscillating,
Consuming matter, all engulfing,
All encompassing, convulsing.
Stretching, flexing, pointing, guiding.
Drawing upwards, ever striving,
Lifting, burning, twisting, turning,
Threatening, smoking, roaring, trying,
Crackling wood, collapsing, sighing.
Glowing embers, night defying.
*
This loudly conjecturing, arguing troop
Might seem a contentious, incongruous group,
Yet slowly and surely, the dissident streams
Of language and energy burst at the seams.
For hidden and buried lost treasure, concealed,
Through the Rov's explanations is duly revealed.
Then just as the varied conjecturing stops
So, one after one, false assumptions will drop.
The truth of the Sages seeps quietly in
And their faces light up as they catch the new spin.
Flaming black letters on bright flaming white,
Sounding the syllables day in and night.
Whispering, listening, quiet perusing,
Thundering, wondering, confusing, amusing
Ever there! Challenging, sticky and bubbling
Till repetition untangles the troubling.
At times, though, one's thoughts might collapse to the
floor
We see that they feel Torah's flames, and what's more
There exudes an acceptance of Truth which is pure
For it passes through tests and fierce battle endures.
Flaming red, orange, yellow
Red-orange, white!
Kindling, entwining, slyly escaping,
Always ascending, strength not abating.
Consuming, encompassing, all things engulfing,
Stretching and flexing, pointing and beckoning.
Drawing sight upward, ever new striving,
Lifting, burning, twisting, turning,
Threatening, smoking, cleansing, unifying,
Thrusting, bursting, collapsing, undying,
Glowing embers. Mystifying!
*
This is our joy as we pass on through time
One eager and furious, unending climb!
Let energy soar, carried up by the air
Which expands and then rises away from the glare.
For the Jew, like the ember, shines forth through the ash.
Willing and eager, connects with his past.
Ignited and kindled, small flames dissipate,
Yet united and knowing, like soft embers glowing,
Moshiach's most certain arrival await.
Black fire inscription on bright, flaming white,
Shimmering, waving, perception evading.
While it's ascending, it keeps oscillating,
All life encompassing, effort consuming,
Mankind engulfing, never presuming,
Consciousness stretching, thought-process flexing,
Lovingly beckoning, coaxing and guiding,
Drawing us upward, insistent on striving,
Uplifting though burning, twisting and turning,
Threatens to choke us with charring and smoke,
Yet cleansing from diffidence. Shining, defining,
From each imperfection completely refining.
Thrusting us into the fray of contention,
Demanding and pushing, requiring extension,
Bursting complacency, collapsing, reviving,
This sparkling Fire carries on, mystifying!
