05 Sep THE SONG OF LIFE

THE This Shabbos, we read parshiyos
Nitzavim and Vayeilech. We are coming
towards the end of the Chumash, and the
final days of Moshe Rabbeinu’s life.
In Parshas Vayeilech, Bnei Yisroel are
given the last of the six-hundred-thirteen
mitzvos. ““V’atah kisvu lachem es
hashirah hazos, And now write for yourself
this song.” (Devarim 31:19).
Chazal teach that the “song” is the song of
Torah. There is an obligation for each
person to write a Sefer Torah for himself.
Since most of us are not proficient in the
detailed requirements and precision
required to write a Sefer Torah, this can be
accomplished by commissioning a sofer, a
scribe. One can also fulfill the mitzva by
joining with others to have a Torah written,
or by arranging for a pasuk, a word, or
even letters to be written on one’s behalf.
“And now, write for yourself this song.”
Herein lies the power of a Jew. The inner
strength of Am Yisroel. No matter where

life takes us, no matter our pains and
problems, travails and troubles, a Jew lives
with shirah, song. To live life with Torah.
To see the beauty of HaShem’s world and
creations. To constantly have the song of
Torah on our lips.
I grew up in a hachnosas orchim home. My
parents were the rabbi and rebbetzin of the
community. Every Shabbos, different
members of the shul would join us around
the table.
Joe was a regular, and would entertain us
children with his stories and jokes. One
Shabbos, as we were all singing zemiros,
Joe turned to my father with a question.
“Rabbi, what does this song mean?”
referring to the zemer, Yonah motzoh boh
manoach, On it, Yonah – the dove – found
rest.
My father closed his eyes, as in deep
thought and concentration, contemplating
his words. After a minute or two, Abba
spoke. It was the first time, and only time,
I ever heard my father speak about the
“war” – the Holocaust that ripped his
beloved family from him, that left him a

war orphan. Our father was a
man of simcha, and only
wanted to share happy
memories with us.
“Joe, when we were
liberated, the group I was
with all sang Yonah motzoh
boh manoach…”
I was a young girl then. I
didn’t think much into my
father’s response to Joe, but
the memory remained with
me.
It was only years later that I thought about
it, and truly appreciated my father’s words.
Manoach… rest… comfort. To think of
menuchah even under the bleakest of
circumstances. My father was alone, bereft
of family, not knowing where to turn,
where life would take him.
Unsure of their future, a whole group sang
together, not knowing how they will start
life over again. But they sang. They
believed that all will be good. That
HaShem will be with them and guide them
through those difficult times.
“Write for yourself this song.” To sing
even when all logic says to cry. But we
are Am Yisroel, a nation whose very
existence defies logic. A nation that sings
Ani Maamin, I believe, I have faith, no
matter what.
Moshe gave Bnei Yisroel a message for
generations. To write shirah – songs,
“…V’lamdah es bnei Yisroel simah
b’fihem, and teach it to your children,
place it in their mouths…” so that it will
be an everlasting memory. (Devarim
31:19)
The word shirah has a gematria, a
numerical value of five-hundred-fifteen,
as does the word tefilla, prayer. Our
prayers become shirah, songs, for our
prayers are expressions of hope for the
future.
Dovid HaMelech writes, “Ashirah
l’HaShem b’chayai, I will sing to
HaShem with my life.” (Tehillim
104:33) Dovid endured much hardship,
yet he sang shirah. He also said “V’ani
tefilla, I (My life) is a prayer (ibid.
109:4). To sing, to pray.
Rabbi Nachman of Breslov was a big
believer in the power of song. In Rabbi
Nachman’s Wisdom, he is quoted as
saying, “Get into the habit of singing a
tune. It will give you new life, and fill

you with joy. Even if you don’t sing well,
sing. Sing to yourself, sing in the privacy
of your home, but sing.”
Ever day, as part of our Shacharis tefillah,
we recite different chapters of Tehillim as
the Shir Shel Yom, the Song of the Day. So
many pesukim from the Torah and portions
of davening have been put to song. Songs
that help us remember the Torah’s words.
Songs that become embedded within our
hearts and souls.
The Yamim Noraim are upon us. There is
nothing more beautiful that a heartzig,
heartfelt davening with beautiful shirah
that has the power to penetrate our
neshama.
As children, we went to our grandparents,
Mama and Zeide for the Yamim Noraim.
Our parents wanted us to have the z’chus
to hear Zeide’s davening. Zeide’s
niggunim, his melodies were timeless,
passed down from his father and ancestors.
Even after I got married, I continued going
with my husband to Mama and Zeide for
the Yamim Noraim. And it continued
further when we had our own children.
When, due to illness, it became too difficult
for Zeide to be the shaliach tzibbur, to lead
the davening, my husband continued on,
using Zeide’s age-old niggunim. One of
our family favorites was Zeide’s “Ya’aleh”,
which we recite on Kol Nidre night. It was
this melody that was with us during one of
our family’s most difficult times – the
petirah of my beloved mother, Rebbetzin
Esther bas HaRav Avraham HaLevi a”h.
We were all together, children and
grandchildren, all wanting to be with our
Ima, our Bubba, during those last moments.
There, in the hospital room, we stood, and
filled the room with shirah. My husband
led us in Zeide’s Ya’aleh. It was then that a
look of serenity and tranquility came upon
my mother’s face.
The power of shirah. The strength of Am
Yisroel.