This past summer, I journeyed to Poland with 70 incredible women to add meaning to our nine days. We traveled day and night, barely sleeping, knowing that we had only 2½ days together. Just three weeks before, Ari Scharf of Mesorah Tours had invited me to lead a women’s’ group. We could never have imagined the overwhelming response and the inspiration we would all come home with.
As we stood in Auschwitz facing the gas chambers, I realized that this would be the closest physical distance I would ever have with my bubby for whom I am named. Rebbetzin Slova Channah Jungreis was my zayda’s mother. It is known that she walked into the ‘gaye tzalmavis – the valley of death, with her youngest grandchild nestled in her arms. Her last words uttered on this earth were “Shema Yisrael Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echad.” And then she was gone.
I would never get to hear my bubby’s voice as she sang me a lullaby. My bubby would never hold me in her arms. I would never get to see her smile. I would never get to taste her delicious Hungarian cakes and delicacies. I would never feel her hand in mine.
So many ‘nevers’.
And yet.
Here I was standing in the very place her soul left this earth. Surely my bubby was hovering, her soul waiting for me to come and call out. “Bubby, I am here! I carry your name. I am continuing on your path. Do not fear! Ani maamin. Your Shema is still being said. You did not die in vain. I did not forget you. You have doros who honor you, who love you, who live a life of Torah and mitzvos. We are your miracle.”
I shared my thoughts on that sacred ground as I journeyed to find my bubby, to feel her presence and hear her silenced voice.
When Avraham Avinu describes himself as “ani afar v’eifer – I am but dust and ashes” he is really giving us a most empowering message:
‘I see you my children. I know you my sweet children. Just as I went through the gas chambers of my time, so too, will you go through similar suffering. You will be made into ‘afar v’eifer – ashes and dust, just like me. You will look around and wonder ‘what happened to me? What happened to us?’ Avraham Avinu saw it all. He foresaw the crusades, the Inquisitions, the Holocaust, the virulent antisemitism, and yes, even October 7th.
How will you recover from the pain, the loss, the fear and suffering?
You must only look at me! I withstood test after test. I stood in the kivshan ha’esh, in the fiery furnace. And here I am! My tests are your tests. My challenges are your challenges. Have no fear. You will rise from the ashes.’
As we approach the Yomim Noraim, we recognize that this is a year unlike all others. We are facing a monumental threat to our very existence. The greatest tragedy and virulent antisemitism since the Holocaust.
The world is blind to our suffering.
They speak about our ‘crimes’ as we defend our very right to exist.
They call for our genocide, praise terrorists and murderers, openly vilify us, terrify our children, and defend a ‘final solution’.
They are deafeningly silent to the screams of our people; to the massacres, the blood libels, the brutality, the violation of our women and children.
An entire generation of widows and orphans has been born. Too many have given their life and limbs so that we may wake up in the morning as Jews in our land.
There is much for us to be contemplating. Our avodah is teshuvah and tefillah. We must each reflect upon this past year and cry out to Hashem to open up sha’arei rachamim.
How can we not call out and say with all our hearts, Avinu Malkeinu!
Avinu Malkeinu, shema koleinu – Our Father, our King, hear our voice.
Avinu Malkeinu, batel meialeinu kol gezeiros kashos – Remove from us all harsh decrees.
Avinu Malkeinu, hafer atzas oyveinu – Foil the plans of our enemies.
Avinu Malkeinu, aseh leman tevuchim al yichudecha – Do it for the sake of those who were slaughtered for your oneness.
Avinu Malkeinu, nikom dam nikmas avadecha hashfuch – Avenge the spilled blood of your servants.
When we approach HaKadosh Baruch Hu this year and stand before the bais din shel ma’alah, we come with the plea for rachamim for all that we have suffered as well as the promise of Avraham Avinu.
“Ani afar v’eifer – I am but dust and ashes.” I am with you in your suffering. You will rise again from the ashes.
