Seminary!!

Yay! I am back in seminary for another semester of debates, arguments, challenging discussions with my rabbeim and my friends, this is my last semester in seminary, I realise that I am not going to be cocooned with my rabbeim and rebbetzens anymore, I am not going to be able to come to rabbi G in the morning shiur to tell him about what I thought about in my train ride back home, nor ask my regular "What is the right way to answer such and such question that a non religious person asked?" to Mrs H...

At the end of the semester I should be able to have my own answers, I have to remember all what I learned and use it for my battle to be Bas Melech and of course, to bring Moshiach faster...I wish seminary never ended.

I had a great, restful vacation, I did nothing special: I slept, played violin, learned chassidus, baked challah, baby sat Mendy and Eli, helped someone with math regents, went to a lechaim, a chassuna and 2 levayas ( sounds like a good title of a bestseller) helped with kinnus preparations, and made plans for pesach (hint: Parlez vous Francais?)

I also realised how my ignorance of yiddish is keeping me away from many things that I want to lean, thank G-d there are translations, but my experience taught me how crooked and far the translation could be from the actual text, here in BP I am under the impression that even cats speak yiddish...Miaaaaaoy' vey!!

Seeing is believing...

Picture courtesy of reviewscentral.com

It was a Thursday, I am sure it was a Thursday, I don't know why I remember the day detail, a Thursday in 2001, October maybe? Sometime after the school year started.

I was in high school, I was a good student, and I loved mathematics, I didn't mind other subjects, but I took studying way too seriously not to be emotional about it, now B"H I try my best to channel those emotions to the holy subjects I learn in morning seminary, to Torah and Avodas HaShem.

Here I am telling you something from the past.

I was in class, math class, I should explain to you that when I say math, I mean any mathematical subject besides geometry, that is the vocabulary used in the high school I went to.

So let's get back to subject, I was in math class.

I sat, taking notes, trying to understand Mrs Tafta, the math professor, she was one of my favorites, all math professors were my favorites.

She was trying to explain...infinity.

Everyone was taking notes, listening, or actually hearing.

I took studying too seriously, so I was serious about understanding this class too.

Mrs Tafta started drawing the graph of the y line in y=1/x, and as I see the lines spreading apart, I got upset, and then angry, and then insulted...then I couldn't hold my tears.

I stopped taking notes, Mrs Tafta didn't notice, I always sat in the back of the classroom, I understood the theory, I understood that the lines she draw would never ever touch the x=0 and y=0 lines.... but I wasn't detached, and I couldn't just take the notes, go home, study and wake up the next day as if nothing happened.

After the class I run to Mrs Tafta crying, she couldn't understand my confusion, I had a 100 on the previous test, why would this be so different, what is she worried about she probably wondered.

I understood, I told her, but I wish I have never learned this, now I have to stop and rethink my value system, the one that didn't have any space for any possibilities other than the ones proven, and infinity wasn't one of them...until now.

I was upset because I couldn't pretend to be arrogant anymore, now the equation is there, and the y line that Mrs Tafta draw, will never get any closer to the horizontal x line.

And that was my first glimpse at infinity, at G-d.

Two lines and exactly two curves, that is all it took to make me realise how stupid I was to ignore that there is something beyond my understanding. To pretend that I knew, when internally I didn't know, but pretending was easier than admitting my humility.

A math lesson, an equation: y=1/x, a blackboard (which was actually green) and Mrs Tafta, the math teacher is what it took to give me purpose, once again.

Picture courtesy of YorkU.

The elderly.

I have been taking care of Bubby G for a few months already, I am not sure of she knows who I am, every time she sees me when I come back home, it is almost the same routine:
"Shulum Aleichem" she says.
"Aleichem Shulum, how are you?" I answer.
"It is a good day" She looks at me smiling.

I actually enjoy caring for bubby G. she is a skinny petite lady, she is actually very lady-like, she doesn't like being dressed in a robe; A skirt, a tucked in collar shirt with a vest is the rule, a real Bais Yaakov girl.

But this is not exactly what I wanted to talk about, bubby G. went to the hospital yesterday, B"H, after hours in the ER room spent waiting for blood test results, Xrays, hart monitoring, the nurse announced that the chest pain she had two days in a row had nothing to do with her heart. She had to be admitted to stay overnight to be monitored, and, of course, I wanted to spend the night by her side-the reason is a topic for a whole other discussion about patient mistreatment and medical errors-

So here I was, in the 7th floor in Maimonides, it was around 2 am and I was beyond exhausted, I realised that I haven't had anything besides 2 cups of coffee, a rice cake and an orange, and about 14 hours of constant standing.

There were two beds in the room, one for bubby G who was already in deep sleep, and on for an Italian lady, I met her daughter earlier in the day and she warned me that her mother had dementia. I looked at the chair by bubby G's bed that would b my bed for the night.

I sat on the chair, covered myself with my coat, closed my eyes, all I wished for is a bed, any bed, actually, anything I could just lay on instead of sitting, I haven't slept for more than 4 hours in the past two days, I was beyond exhausted..and as I started convincing myself to sleep I heard a "Pssssst...pssssst!"

I looked at bubby G.'s roommate, her frail body was attached to all sorts of machinery, she breathed with difficulty she told me earlier during the day, and she told me also that, the reason she is in the hospital is because it was too cold outside, so when she walked in here, they trapped her....she had dementia.

Did you need anything?"I asked her whispering.
"No darling, but you need to rest" she moved to the side of her bed, and she pointed at the empty side "Here, I cleared this for you, why don't you lay down and get some sleep, I know what it is like to watch over a sick relative"

I was speechless, there she was, an old Italian lady, who could barley move, cleared the side of her bed, with difficulty, to let a stranger, sleep on it. Did she read my mind?

Rabbi Greenberg from the NY NCSY told us the story of Rabbi Weinberg z'tl: Rabbi Weinberg's mother was in coma for several months, she was in a hospital in NY, Rabbi Weinberg used to go from Baltimore to NY back and forth early every erev shabbos to visit his mother in the hospital and wish her good shabbos, the doctors sometimes remind him that he should consider getting her "off the machines" and get over with it, after all, even she could survive on her own, she'd be like dead.

Rabbi Weinberg of course didn't listen, and continued his erev shabbos visit.

One erev shabbos, after Rabbi Weinberg greeted his mother, she opened her eyes, and answered "Good shabbos".

Rabbi Weinberg said that all the trips he made throughout the months to/from Baltimore, all the hospital expenses, were worth that moment when his mother said "Goods Shabbos".

When I heard the story it made a great effect on me, I felt that I lived it with the Italian old lady.

I didn't accept the offer of the Italian old lady. but she made me feel so happy, so relieved, so inspired that all the stress and trouble, all the disappointment I have been through dissipated in a moment, I thanked HaShem for letting me live these moments, of having the privilege to be the receiver of the chessed of this Italian old lady.

I stood and walked toward her, held her hand and looked into her livid eyes and thanked her for caring, she said she knows what it is like to be exhausted, she took care of her sick mother for a few years before she passed away, "Now it is my turn...what can I do?..." she said.

I smiled to her, told her she should close her yes and sleep, and that I'd be here all night if she needed anything, then I sat back in my chair, and closed my eyes.