A good friend, whom I especially like, was sitting Shiva for his mother this week, after her death from a long illness. It was hard for me to see him sad and hurting. It was even harder to talk to him on the phone. I looked for the right words to say, and couldn’t find them, maybe because there are moments in which there is nothing to say.
I wanted to tell him a story I once heard, but I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth. Perhaps it will be easier to write them.
In 5758 (1998), when I was on a Shlichut in a yeshiva in Brazil, I was told of a boy who lived in a “Pablo neighborhood” – the slums of Sao Paulo – who was the best soccer player in the team. Everyone knew that when he had the ball, nothing could stop him from scoring. However, one day the boy stopped playing. His friends kept begging him to return, but he refused, stubbornly.
Two months went by, and one day he appeared suddenly and went back to playing – including scoring, as only he knew how to do. “Why?” his friends asked him. “Why did you stop, and why did you come back all of a sudden?”
This was his answer: “Two months ago my father became very ill, and among other things became blind. And you know, in this Pablos there isn’t really any life except for soccer. My father had nothing to be proud of except for the fact that his son was a good soccer player. For that reason, he would come to watch me at every game. That was his sole source joy and pride. When he became blind, I understood that he would not enjoy my playing, and might even suffer from the fact that he can no longer watch his dear son play so well. I couldn’t bear his suffering and decided to stop playing.
“So why did you return now?” his friends asked. “Now, I am sad to say, my father has died, and from above he probably arrives every day at the playing field and again sees me playing. I want him to be proud of me again, to be happy up there.”
Rivka A”H, the mother of my friend Shmulik, passed away and he is sitting Shiva for her during the week in which the first Rivka appears – Rivka Immeinu (our mother), who brought with her the continuation of the Jewish nation after the passing of Sara Immeinu.
Rivka, together with Yitzchak, brought Sara back to life, for in their way of life, Yitzchak and Rivka continued the wishes and hopes of the first Yiddishe Mama.
It was Sara who demanded from Avraham to send away “the son of the maidservant”, in order to fulfill Hashem’s command “since through Yitzchak the offspring will be considered yours” – and not through Yishmael. And that happened when Rivka came to be Yitzchak’s wife.
Sara lit Shabbat candles that stayed lit from one Friday to another, and Rivka continued this when she entered Sara’s tent, as Rashi says in his commentary on the “And he brought her to the tent of Sara his mother.”
As with Sara, Rivka, too had the Yiddishe Mama’s instinct, when she told Yaakov to take the blessings from Yitzchak, blessings that were almost given to Esav.
That is the reason that the Parasha is called “Chayei Sara” – the life of Sara, even though the verses are telling us about her death, not her life. For what does a mother want more than that her children will walk in the path she has shown them? And when Yitzchak did this together with Rivka, his deeds were Sara’s real life, her spiritual life.
And what do children want more than that their mother will come from heaven every day to the playing field and will smile happily, when she sees them continuing her way, and really bringing her back to life again in their own existence.
May we know no more pain and distress, and may only joy rest upon everybody.
Shabbat Shalom,
Zalmen Wishedski