Dei'ah veDibur - Information & Insight

A Window into the Chareidi World

24 Cheshvan 5764 - November 19, 2003 | Mordecai Plaut, director Published Weekly









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











Home and Family

Poem and Prose
by Sara Gutfreund

Soroh's Tent

The hot sand scorches my feet. My eyes are blinded by the glare of the desert sun. Suddenly, I see it. Soroh's tent. It is much bigger than I had imagined. Deep, purple canvas walls stretch up into the sky. And indeed, there is a door on every side.

Peering through the door, I see her. She is more beautiful than anyone I have ever met. Soroh sits in a long, golden robe beside her tall Sabbath lights. A shimmering scarf is wrapped around her hair. She looks up at me and smiles. Freshly baked loaves of bread lie upon the table. Soroh motions for me to sit down beside her, and she hands me a glass of cold water.

I drink and drink and drink until the cool shade of the tent seeps into me. Peace is everywhere. It flows from Soroh's face into mine, swirling through the air like sweet perfume.

"Soroh, tell me something," I begin. "How do you stay in your tent all day? Aren't you bored?" Soroh's eyes flicker with surprise.

"Bored? What does that mean?" I wonder if Soroh is joking.

"Like unfulfilled, cooped up, stuck?" Soroh looks at me with searching eyes.

"I have everything I need. Everything," she repeats as she cuts me a slice of bread.

"You have been running for too long," she tells me quietly. "Go back to your tent -- light your candles, bake your bread. And beg Hashem for peace."

"Peace? How will I find peace?" I ask, trembling.

"Repeat after me," Soroh instructs.

"I have everything I need. Everything."


I place my hands upon your heads, one by one

And I bless you in the shadow of the dancing Sabbath flames

I watch all of you run off to play, the youngest toddling behind.

And I want to follow you and bless you again.

There is so much I want to give to you.

Will there be enough time?

Can I give you strength and grace?

Can I build a home that has room for each of you?

Can I give you lives that know the joy of choice?

Can I give you the sweet warmth of our Torah?

I turn towards the mountains of Jerusalem

And watch the setting sun turn the sky into flames.

Bless me, Hashem, I whisper into the descending twilight,

I want to give to my daughters; help me give.

Bless me as I bless them

Follow them as they play

Follow them, follow me

I cannot raise them without You.


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