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    THE POWER TO SURVIVE

    “Vehi sheh’am’da la’avoseinu v’lanu……
    And this is what stood by our fathers and
    us…” (From the Pesach Haggadah)
    This past week, a four-year-old, recognizably
    Jewish boy was violently shoved to the
    ground for no apparent reason by a US Postal
    worker. Like so much of everything else in
    our world, the entire incident was captured
    on camera, and the clip went viral. Boruch
    HaShem, the little boy wasn’t seriously
    injured, and was able to pick himself up, and
    run off.
    There have been many comments about this
    incident on line. All in shock. All wondering
    how a Federal employee could push a little
    four-year-old. There was one video comment
    that really touched me. A man, a non-Jew,
    commented that his “beautiful wife” picked
    up on something that he was oblivious to.
    She told him to look at the little boy and
    observe what happens immediately following
    him being knocked down. She said, “He is
    just a baby, but picked up his kippa and put it
    back on.” In that defining moment, a little

    boy became a super hero. The commentator
    continued, “That is what I admire about the
    Jewish people as a whole.” The boy was hurt
    and must have been frightened, yet he
    instinctively reached for his yarmulke. A
    young child, who was proud to be identified
    as a Jew. A child who was raised and taught
    to hold on to his Torah, his traditions, his
    G-d. The takeaway for many was no longer
    just the act of violence, but the child’s
    instinctive response—his dignity, his identity,
    his pride. Bruised and startled, he held on to
    who he was. A small action that spoke
    volumes.
    Seder night is filled with layers of meaning
    and teachings, many of them hidden beneath
    familiar words. The commentators offer
    different explanations for the word “vehi—
    and this”. The Abarbanel finds a deep
    meaning in each letter of the word vehi. A
    message that tells us the key to our survival,
    our source of strength, our protective armor.
    Vehi is spelled vov-hei-yud-aleph. Vov has a
    numerical value of six, symbolizing the six
    books of the Mishna. Hei has a value of five,
    alluding to the five books of the Torah. Yud,
    having a value of ten, connotes the Aseres
    HaDibros, The Ten Commandments. And

    finally, aleph, one, stands for
    HaShem Echad, our one and only
    G-d.
    Vehi Sheh’am’da, this is what keeps
    us. The study of the holy books. The
    belief in a G-d above. That
    immersing oneself in Torah study is
    paramount. A lesson my parents
    taught us by example. A lesson made
    part of our lives. And, as a rabbi and
    rebbetzin, they inspired countless
    individuals to embrace a life of
    meaning and commitment,
    continuing to live on as proud Jews.
    My mother wrote several books on
    living one’s life as a committed Jew.
    Salomé, a French speaking young girl from
    New Caledonia, was vacationing with her
    family in France. There, she came across one
    of my mother’s books, translated into French.
    For her, it was a life changer. After reading
    the book, she only wanted to study and learn
    Torah. She came to New York, met with the
    Rebbetzin, and attended Hineni Torah
    classes. Salome became Shlomit, and today
    she is a proud ema, raising a beautiful family
    in Yerushalayim.
    The power of a Torah education. We are Am
    Hasefer, the People of the Book. A nation
    that cherishes learning and teaching.
    Rabbi Norman Lamm shares a story about
    Torah learning in India. He writes about a
    visit to the small Jewish community in
    Fatehpur Sikri, an ancient poverty-stricken
    town. He had just come out of a lecture in a
    ‘prayer hall’. A number of young teenage
    boys crowded around him, and he was told
    that they had something to ask. Rabb Lamm
    wondered what the question could possibly
    be. They were all barefoot. Do they want
    shoes? They looked hungry. Do they desire
    food? Many of them sleep in the street. Do
    they want help securing a roof over their
    heads? To his surprise, the answer to all
    these questions was no. They turned to him,
    and in a broken English, said, “Rabbi, give
    us Hebrew books”. Young boys who needed
    so much, but their priority at that that
    moment to increase their Torah knowledge.
    Vehi Sheh’am’da. Once again, it is our
    nation’s love of learning, the desire for
    Torah education that sustains us through the
    ages.
    Vehi. One small word with so many
    teachings. Pesach night is our time for
    ve’higgadeta l’vincha, and you shall tell
    your children. A time for us to recount not
    only the story of our nation’s exodus from
    Egypt, but as parents, grandparents and
    family, to share stories of past generations.
    Each of us has our own personal ‘vehi’.
    Stories of emuna and bitachon, stories of

    families finding strength from their
    unwavering belief in HaShem. Memories
    that keep us intact and connected to Torah. It
    is a night to inspire our children, enabling
    them to be the leaders of tomorrow, the future
    of Am Yisroel.
    Vehi Sheh’am’da continues, stating
    “Sheh’b’chol dor vodor omdim aleinu
    l’chaloseinu, In every generation there are
    those who stand up against us and wish to
    annihilate us…” Haunting words in the
    reality of today’s world.
    There is yet another “b’chol dor vodor” in the
    Haggadah.
    “B’chol dor vodor…. In every generation
    and generation, one is obligated to see
    himself as if he personally had gone out of
    Egypt.” To close our eyes, and try to imagine
    what was to leave the bondage in Egypt
    behind, crossing the sea, experiencing
    HaShem’s miracles.
    Mitzrayim, Egypt, connotes much more than
    a physical land. Within the word Mitzrayim
    we find the word meitzar, meaning a narrow,
    confining place. There are times in life when
    we experience own personal “Mitzrayim”,
    when we feel stuck in a hard place, wondering
    how we will ever extricate ourselves. On
    Pesach night, when we remember the
    mizrayim of Egypt, how HaShem helped our
    nation break the shackles of slavery, that
    should give us hope that we, too, will merit
    being liberated from that which confines us.
    We conclude the vehi sheh’am’dah with
    “ve’haKodosh Boruch Hu matzileinu
    mi’yadam, But HaShem, Blessed be He,
    rescues us from their hands.” Vehi—through
    Torah, through mitzvos, through emuna.
    Through the identity we refuse to abandon,
    even when knocked down. Just as that child
    instinctively reached for his kippa, we too
    must reach for our Torah. It is through the
    teachings of Torah that our nation is able to
    go from the darkness of slavery to the light of
    freedom. Teachings that give us the power to
    survive the ages.