Re: A Plea: from a daughter’s heart to the reader’s heart
(Chronicles, Feb 24, March 3, 10)
Dear Rachel,
If I may borrow your podium for this round, I’d be most appreciative. Will try for brevity, G-d willing.
Dear Readers,
I assure you Rachel is much too busy to mind. How would I know, you might be thinking. Well, Pesach is almost here. And someone needs to speak up for the man of the house (single, married, young or “elderly”).
Remember “dad?” The “laid-back type… content with immersing himself in a Sefer or scanning the pages of a ‘kosher’ newspaper…” (Chronicles, March 3).
Anyone happen to note how this same “dad” was, at the outset, totally invisible? (Chronicles, Feb. 24) Then, magically, he makes an appearance in this column the following week. Clever editing, Rachel.
Okay, truce. I’ll be dan l’kaf zechus (give you the benefit of the doubt), by presuming that you really felt bad for the baal habayis who played such an itty bitty, insignificant part in that letter written by… Leeba? Her friend? Mom’s friend…?
I know, I know, hard to follow or keep track. After all, Pesach’s “almost here” – for some households since the last of the donut crumbs of Chanukah ended up as bird feed. Forget the mishloach manos hamantaschen. I dare not even breathe the word ‘crumb’ on my turf as we approach Parshas HaChodesh (gasp!).
Reality check: If Purim was any indicator, Hashem – from Whose eyes NOTHING is hidden – sees an indefatigable people, a nation like no other, rushing, running, racing in the direction whence they perceive a cry for help.
Lest we forget, some cries for help are more discernible than others. It may be a masquerading cry from “Leeba,” a silent cry from “Nechama,” a weak cry from a confident-appearing “Berel…”
Conversely, help can “magically appear” from the most unlikeliest source. Never underestimate the power invested in each of us by HaKadosh Baruch Hu. Yes, even the “dads” who are the “laid back” type, content with immersing themselves in a Sefer. V’talmud Torah Keneged Kulam.
While his chashuva rebbetzin cooks, concocts, bakes, or shops, he is shepping (shopping too, no worries) Yiddishe nachas from the kiddies. Noise? What noise? I don’t hear any. If they’re playing at my feet, I consider myself to be the luckiest “dad,” zaidy, or bestest uncle in the world. I revel in their innocence and purity, in their trusting and earnest davening: “Reishis Chachma Yiras Hashem” (The beginning of wisdom is Awe of Hashem)!
Mmm, the tantalizing aroma wafting from the kitchen of our modest home reminds me it’s almost time. The children’s excitement sure is catchy. They know they are in for a treat, as does their “chauffeur” (yours truly). We are going for a drive! We are all in this together… delivering homemade, lovingly prepared food packages to the less fortunate among us.
Thank You, Hashem, for the exalted privilege.
The less visible among us.
