Light up the Darkness

This world can be such an ugly place at times. There are people who kill, lie, steal, gossip, cheat and swear. There's so much hatred and jealousy around. People yell at each other, look down at one another and hold grudges for years. Families feud and lose contact for lifetimes, leaving massive rifts among the generations. Husbands have wandering eyes and wives build up resentment that can take a lifetime to erase...

We are now in the week of Channuka, also known as the Festival of Lights. It is an eight-day  holiday commemorating the re-dedication of the the Second Temple in Jerusalem at the time of the Maccabean Revolt of the 2nd century BCE. Chanukka is observed for eight nights and days, starting on the 25th day of Kislev according to the Jewish calendar which may occur at any time from late November to late December in the Gregorian calendar. The festival is observed by the kindling of the lights of a Channukiya/Menorah( a candelabra made up of 9 branches) , one additional light on each night of the holiday, progressing to eight on the final night. The typical Menorah consists of eight branches with an additional raised branch called the Shamash. Channuka is a story of light and miracles. It is the time of year that is incredibly special to me as it is on the Eve of Channuka 3 years ago, that we welcomed our first born child, a boy, into the Covenant of Avraham Avinu and just like the light of this special holiday, our boy lit up our lives and continues to do so on a daily basis with his smile and laughter that can melt an iceberg and light up a pitch dark room.

Last week, in preparation for Channuka, my son and I went to the center of town to look at potential gifts he might be interested in getting for the holiday. We entered a multipurpose store with a lot of toys that he was very interested in buying, but I took that opportunity to teach my boy about giving to people who have much less than us. The store was having a toy drive for less fortunate children in our neighborhood and I really wanted him to think about a little boy or little girl his age who wouldn't be getting a Channuka gift, because his parents wouldn't be able to afford it. My boy made me so proud that day. I had prepped him that we weren't shopping for his gift. That Ema would shop for his gift the next day. That today was the day to choose a gift for a special little boy or girl who wouldn't get any other gifts otherwise. Many children his age would not have been able to leave that store unless they were getting something too. But with tremendous grace and kindness, my little boy chose a gift for another child, paid for it at the cash and left the store empty handed.

Earlier that day, my 18 month old daughter and I went grocery shopping. On our way into the elevator to get to the store, we saw a lovely Ethiopian woman whom we see rather often, cleaning the floors and looking very tired. I got inspired by the moment and decided that I wanted my little girl to brighten this woman's difficult day of physical labor. We picked up a mini chocolate bar at the grocery store and as we entered the elevator, the lovely young woman joined us. As we were all getting out of the elevator, my daughter gave the young woman the chocolate bar and we wished her a Channuka Sameach(Happy Channuka).

As it is written in Sefer Mishlei, the Book of Proverbs 20:27, "The soul of man is a candle of G-d". No matter what color or shape the candle's body is, its flame remains pure and bright. A shining deed can brighten a seemingly dark world. What a powerful lesson to teach my children.

Love,
Cigal

There's No Place Like Home

My country is under under attack. A constant barrage of rocket attacks have become the routine of daily life in Sderot, a city in the South of Israel. Twelve years of rockets sent by Palestinian terrorists, day in day out, sending panic stricken children and families running for shelter. No civilized country would stand for this as long as Israel has.

In the past week, the terrorists have expanded their scope and missiles have been falling in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Gush Etzion, Kiryat Malachi, Beersheva and Rishon L'Tzion, just to name a few. Sons, sons-in-law, husbands, fiances, brothers and fathers all over the country have been called up for duty in Gaza, working around the clock to protect us, the citizens. Mothers, wives, daughters, daughters-in-law and sisters, are staying up all night worrying about the whereabouts and the safety of their loved ones.

 

This week, a couple old friends of mine said" Cigal, why don't you pack your family up and come back home?(to Montreal)...Leave that craziness behind". With three little ones under the age of three, I have to admit, I stopped to think about what that would be like for me and my family...

When I was here, the summer before I made Aliyah, suicide bombers were blowing up buses left and right, leaving dozens of casualties and broken families on a weekly, sometimes daily basis. I remember the day I was getting on the plane going back to Vancouver(my home at the time), there was a double suicide bombing (ie a suicide bomber waited for two buses to be next to each other before detonating). The bloodbath was indescribable in words. I remember some of the casualties being young children and babies. And there I was, at Ben Gurion Airport, waiting for my flight to Vancouver. I remember the feelings of devastation that took over the very core of my being. I remember asking myself: "Why the hell am I going back to Vancouver when my people's blood is continually being spilled here? Why is my blood redder than theirs? I should be nowhere else but here!". I remember like it was yesterday, sitting on that plane, crying my eyes out for most of the flight and asking myself that very question. By the end of the flight, I had made my decision. The following summer I would return to Israel and never leave again (unless for a visit).

I have been here for some of the Second Intifada, the Expulsion of Jews from Gush Katif(Gaza),the Second Lebanon War, the first Gaza War (Operation Cast Lead) and now, Operation Pillar of Defense in Gaza again...But now there are three young, precious and innocent souls in my care that will be living and facing these kinds of realities, too.  It saddens me to no end to think that my not even 3 year old knows what a saferoom and a shelter are. That he's been instructed by his preschool teachers as well as by me on what to do in the case of an air raid siren. And this is his reality. It is the reality of every baby, child, teenager and adult that lives in our beloved country.

 

So, in answer to your question dear friends in Montreal, NO. I will not be packing up my family and going back "home". I AM HOME. Life can be really hard here. It can even be scary to live here sometimes. But as Dorothy so eloquently put it, "There's no place like home".

With Love,

 

Cigal

Keep the Faith

Thirteen years ago, living in Vancouver, with my aching soul and my crashing marriage, I was swimming in a pool of heartache and pain...My soul was desperately yearning to return to its Source, to reconnect to its Heavenly Father, to heal its brokenness...And so the marriage ended and the journey for my True Self began.

I was no stranger to my Jewish roots, as I grew up going to Jewish elementary and high schools, but once I began to go back to those roots by reading, learning and re-learning the prayers I had learned  many, many years before, I discovered how devoid of G-d and spirituality my life had been up to that point.

I began going to Torah(bible) classes given by different rabbis and their wives....I started attending services every Friday night and Saturday morning. Sooner than I knew it, I became a part of a wonderful and very close knit community with a wonderful Rabbi and his fantastic wife. Their warmth, love, support and deep connection to G-d was both inspiring and contagious.

Three years later, I came to Israel to learn Torah for a summer and while here, there were bus bombings and bloodshed every week. I remember ever so distinctly thinking to myself " How can I go back to Canada now? Why is my blood better than my brothers and sisters who live here? Why should I be off the hook? I belong HERE, not there." Instead of watching Jewish history unfold from afar, I decided to take part in MAKING Jewish history happen. The following summer, I made Aliyah(moved to Israel) and never looked back.

When I made Aliyah, I did it alone. No husband, no kids and no immediate family here, waiting to help me with my transition. Those first years were both very difficult and very rewarding at the same time.
I put all my faith and trust in my Father in Heaven and I knew that He had brought me here for a reason. That He really wanted me to be here, even though it was hard. I came here hoping to meet the right man right as I got off the plane, to get married, have kids and to build our "Bayit Ne'eman B'Yisrael"(Our home faithful to the Traditions of Israel). G-d had other plans for me. I had to date a lot, get frustrated a lot, lose hope many times (for short periods at a time) and pray even harder every time, before G-d felt that my husband and I were ready for each other.

I remember a few months before I met Hubby I ended a very painful and unhealthy relationship. One of the Rabbis wives that I was learning Torah with here(who remains an inspiration to me til this day) had called to check in and see how I was feeling after I had told her of the breakup. I told her the following" Hashem (G-d) is testing me. He's trying to push me way from Him, but I won't let him do that. I'll just pray harder and do more to make Him proud of me".

Four months later, I met my husband and 8 months after that, we were married. Now, BH(Thank G-d), we've been married  4 years and have 3 beautiful children whom we adore and whom we feel tremendously blessed with.

The moral of my story? Keep the faith. Just when you think all hope is lost, that's when there's so much hope to be revealed to you. Just when you feel at your lowest and weakest point, that is when you canreach within yourself and become the strongest and the best YOU that you've ever been.

All my Love,
Cigal

From the Beginning

It's been MONTHS since I last wrote an entry. It's been months since I've felt there was anything meaningful to share. And now I'm kicking myself, thinking back to so many special and meaningful things that have gone on in my life in the last few months, wondering why I didn't write them.There are important lessons to be learned from this. Even the smallest things can be meaningful. Sometimes, although it seems that there's nothing much to say or nothing much to share from our daily life, if one takes a deep look within, it becomes obvious that there is so much there...

Dear readers, I'm not done here. In fact, I'm only just beginning.

With Love,
Cigal

Music to My Ears

There is no music to my ears that is more beautiful than that of my children's laughter.
Nothing in the world brings me more joy than their joy.

My two year old has many sweet pastimes, but my absolute favorite one is when he intentionally attempts to make his sister laugh. This happens on a daily basis and I must say that my little girl finds her big brother to be hysterically funny...So much so, that sometimes, he will succeed in getting her to laugh incessantly, from the deepest place in her little belly.

We are now in the month of Adar...Mishenichnas Adar Marbin B'Simcha(When the month of Adar arrives, we increase our joy!). During this month, we recall the miracle of Purim, when our ancestors were saved from destruction by the evil Haman.

As their Ima (Mom),  I feel as though it's my job to keep that Adar feeling in our home all year round. To sing with them, laugh with them, act silly with them....To lose all inhibitions and join their sweet, innocent and fun loving world...
I'm all for increasing joy during Adar, but why shouldn't that joy carry over throughout the rest of the year???

With Love,
Cigal

I'm not helpless

Chilul Hashem. The Desecration of G-d's name. I see it everywhere. It's all over the news, both National and International. The small sect of Sikrikim who call themselves Haredim (G-d fearing Jews)are walking the streets of Bet Shemesh(very close to where I live), terrorizing young girls and women. Subhuman animals are molesting innocent children in Nachlaot, Jerusalem and not getting caught. Young hooligans are actively involved in Tag Mechir (vandalizing Arab property)...How can it be that people who claim to love G-d, His Torah and His Mitzvot(commandments) can commit the gravest of crimes by desecrating His Holy Name??

My heart aches. I stay up at night wondering why this is happening within my people and what I can do to stop it. The Torah states very clearly "Lo Ta'amod Al Dam Re'echa"....Literally, this means do not stand idly by and watch your brother bleed....In other words, do not let your brother/sister suffer without trying to help him/her.

Every minute of every day, we all have opportunities to do a Kiddush Hashem...To sanctify His Holy Name, rather than ,heaven forbid, desecrate it. A heartfelt compliment and expression of gratitude to our spouse. Fun and quality time spent with the kids. A visit to an elderly and lonely person. A smile and a "Good Morning" to the street cleaner. An "I'm sorry" to someone we've wronged. I truly believe that Hakadosh Baruch Hu smiles at us when He sees us treating our loved ones and even perfect strangers with love and respect. On the flipside, I think that He cries bitter tears when He sees His children behaving in ways that hurt their fellow brothers and sisters.

I wish I could single handedly make the Sikrikim stop terrorizing my holy sisters. I wish I could catch all the evil molesters and throw them in jail for life. I wish I could put an end to Tag Mechir. I can't. But that doesn't mean that I can't do anything. I'm not helpless.

I can look for my own meaningful opportunities to do a Kiddush Hashem( a sanctification of G-d's name). I can give up my seat on the bus for the older gentleman without a kippa (skullcap). I can express my love and appreciation to my husband and my kids on a daily basis. I can buy a warm drink and a sandwich for a person begging for money on the street. I can connect with people who are very different than I am. I can cook meals for new moms. I can invite random new people I meet in the supermarket to my home for Shabbat.

We can all do these things. Every small act of chessed (kindness) counts.

With Love,

Cigal