08 Oct A PRECIOUS GIFT

We are just days away from Yom Kippur.
A time for us to reckon with our past, and
daven for our future. A time to look
inward, and search for ways to improve
ourselves.
This past Monday, the world
commemorated the one-year anniversary
of October 7. (In the Jewish calendar,
one-year will be on Simchas Torah). So
much has been written and said about
how the world has changed, how the
horrific events have brought out both the
worst in the Jew-hating world, and the
best amongst those who came forward to
offer tefillos, support and unconditional
ahava to a nation that was suffering
beyond anyone’s imagination. It was a
year that created tremendous achdus
amongst all segments of Am Yisroel, a
spirit of unity that we so desperately need
and hopefully will endure.
How should we remember October 7?
What lessons can we learn, and what
hopes can we yearn for? We only need to

turn to our machzor and the words jump
out at us. Since Rosh HaShana we have

been intensely reciting the very heart-
rending Avinu Malkeinu prayer. As I was

reciting it verse-by-verse, several
passages screamed out – I became watery
eyed, with visions of October 7 going
through my mind.
“Avinu Malkeinu, Our Father, our King,
take pity on us, and upon our children and
our infants; act for the sake of those who
were murdered al Kiddush HaShem; act
for the sake of those who were
slaughtered…; act for the sake of those
who went into fire and water…; avenge
before our eyes the spilled blood of Your
servants….”
Can any of us stand in shul this Yom
Kippur, and not tremble as we think back
to the year past? When we recite Yizkor
this Yom Kippur, there is an additional
special prayer for the martyrs. “May
HaShem remember the holy and pure
ones who were killed, murdered,
slaughtered, burned, drowned and
strangled for the sanctification of
HaShem’s name” just because they were

Jews. It is a call that should wake
up each and every one of us, to
never forget that these horrific acts
also happened during our lifetime.
The Torah commands us, “Zachor
es asher osoh lecha Amalek,
Remember what Amalek did to
you…” The pasuk uses the word
lecha, meaning to you. It’s not just
what Amalek did in the distant
past. Every generation has its
Amalek. Ours is Hamas, Hezbollah,
the Houthis, Iran and its proxies.
While we, living across the ocean
in the Diaspora are not experiencing what
our brothers in Eretz Yisroel are facing on
a daily basis, we are obligated to feel the
lecha. To be one with them, acheinu kol
beis Yisroel, and feel their pain, their
suffering, their losses. Asher osoh lecha,
as if it happened to you – to each of us.
It is this time of the year when we think of
our spouses, parents, children, siblings,
and friends. We make it our business to
connect with them and exchange
greetings of l’shana tova. As I write these
lines, I can’t help but think of those who
can’t make or receive such calls this
year. Those who have been murdered,
those who are still held hostage, those
seriously wounded, and those who no
longer have spouses, parents, children
or siblings to call. Those who don’t
know if their family members being
held are even alive.
My thoughts go back to my childhood.
My grandmother a”h, known to all as
“Mama”, would come once a week for a
visit, bringing homemade Hungarian
delicacies and special treats for us
children. Mama would often sleep over
and share with us stories of her life,
growing up in Hungary and then
eventually settling in the United States.
Through her stories and deeds, Mama
taught us what it means to be a devoted
daughter, a caring mother, a giving
grandmother. To be a people-person
and have room in your heart for all.
The years passed, and I had my own
family, Mama continued to make her
weekly visits. Instead of to my parents’
home, they were to my home, to help

me with my children – her great-
grandchildren.

As Mama grew older, and it became
difficult for her to travel to our home, it
was my z’chus, my honor to take my
children to visit Mama. I remember one
visit in particular. Mama wanted to give
me her “most precious possession”.

What could it be, I wondered. Mama was
a simple woman, with little needs. One
couldn’t even buy her a gift, as she would
quickly give it away to one of the
countless needy individuals who came
calling. Mama handed me her phone
book. That was her most treasured
possession. Her connection to family,
friends and neighbors. Her connection to
those she loved – and she loved everyone.
It was her lifeline.
With the gift came instructions. “Call…
call everyone before the Yomim Tovim.
Keep in touch with the family. Continue
calling for me when I can’t.” With this
simple gift, Mama taught me what was
important in life.
Mama would begin her Rosh HaShana
calls on Rosh Chodesh Elul, an entire
month before Yom Tov. The list was long,
and she truly cherished the time on the
phone with each person she called. Mama
never waited to receive a call, but always
called first. A friend once told me that as
much as she tried to get to Mama first,
Mama always beat her to it.
Over the past few weeks, as I made my
pre-Yom Tov calls, Mama’s words came
back to me. It’s time to pull out the phone
book, or as we do in 2024, scroll down
our contacts. If you didn’t reach someone
before Rosh HaShana, you can still call.
It is never too late to connect to family
and friends. To share a bracha for a good
new year. To wish a G’Mar Chasima
Tova, a blessing that one’s inscription be
sealed for a year of only good things.
As we make our last-minute calls, let’s
not forget how precious each person is,
and how fortunate we are to be able to
make that call.
HaShem, Your people have suffered
enough. We pray with all our hearts that
You will make this coming year a year of
shalom, a year of overflowing brachos, a
year in which we will witness the ultimate
geula.