“Mishenichnas Adar marbim b’simcha – when Adar enters, joy increases” (Ta’anit 29a-b).
Your name, Adar, is related to the Hebrew word adir, a word that denotes strength, power, and joy which are worthy of celebration. You are aligned with the tribe of Joseph and his two sons, Menashe and Ephraim, who were blessed by their grandfather Jacob, and are independent branches of the 12th tribe, corresponding to you – the 12th month of the Hebrew year.
It’s 12 months now since I moved from Jerusalem to Beit Shemesh, and I’ve been thinking about last year, when I left my heart in Jerusalem, and this year, now settled comfortably in Beit Shemesh surrounded by devoted family.
Last week I still basked in sunshine, warm weather complemented by a cloudless blue sky, seeking the first almond tree blossoms that appear on Tu b’Shvat. This week, the rain we had prayed for arrived bountifully.
January and February, corresponding to the Hebrew months of Tevet and Shvat, are generally cold and wet. They are dark days that mirror sadness for me personally. Particularly Tevet, the month that my husband was laid to rest in the city we loved – Jerusalem.
I recall my father-in-law who spoke at our engagement party 64 years ago in my parents’ home in Williamsburg. It was the fourth night of Chanukah, a happy eventful evening, the start of something new, where we debuted as a couple. My father-in-law spoke that evening, focusing on the patriarch Jacob and the beautiful striped coat, the k’tonet passim, that he had sewn for his beloved son Joseph. My father-in-law referred to his own youngest son (my husband-to-be) as his striped coat. He admitted that although he had other children, he considered his youngest son, his k’tonet passim, his most precious child. My husband was my “k’tonet passim” too.
I walk the freshly showered streets of Beit Shemesh and I think of spring. I think of spring in Jerusalem where I lived for 62 years. I think of you, Adar, when joy will increase; when this war, Iron Swords, will be over; when I hope something new will be ready to debut.
I think of Joseph, symbolic of the month of Adar. I think of all the incredibly inspiring “striped coats” in this country: all the husbands, fathers, sons, and brothers who are no longer among the living. Brave young soldiers killed in the war that started on Simchat Torah, October 7. Holy young men who fought like lions to protect their people from annihilation. I think of their widowed wives, mothers, and orphaned children – all the men and women deserving of that exceptional title, k’tonet passim – an expression of love worthy of crowns to match their striped coats, for they are Israel’s cherished coat of arms.
Joy, like Purim, is an ingrained part of our history. A descendant of Joseph’s brother Benjamin became known as the revered Queen Esther who saved her people from annihilation. Esther is the central character in the two-thousand-year-old Purim story, the holiday celebration that falls during Adar. Like the Queen herself, your entrance increases joy.
For weeks now, Purim has been on my mind. Purim is the holiday when, at the start of the war, Kabbalists intimated that our enemies will be demolished.
This year is a leap year. We will celebrate two Adars, an increase of joy totaling two whole months. One Adar honoring the tribe of Menashe, and the second Adar honoring the tribe of Ephraim.
The physical symbol for you, Adar, is Pisces, fish, and its origins date back to the blessing of Jacob to his two grandsons, Menashe and Ephraim. “Hamalach hagoel oti mikol ra… May the angel who redeems me from all evil bless the lads, and may my name be declared upon them, and the names of my forefathers, Abraham and Isaac, and may they proliferate abundantly like fish within the land.”
You have 60 powerful days to use your strength, Adar – 60 days for the Almighty to help you do a v’nahapoch-hu, a turnover. You have 60 days to destroy evil in this world, 60 days to bring all the hostages and reservists home, 60 days to heal the wounded, and a whole 60 days to fulfill Jacob’s blessing to his grandchildren, enabling us to erupt in joy with a new song, one that we can march to with cymbals and drums, and dance to the music of a new set of words:
Misheh yotzei Adar matchilim b’geulah – when Adar exits, redemption commences.
