A smile from the heart. A heartfelt" Good Morning", "Good Evening" or "Shabbat Shalom" when we pass someone on the street are all messages Hubby and I try to impart to our children. We never know what kind of an impact any of these messages can have on the receiver. Maybe the person is a street cleaner who woke up at the crack of dawn to start his/her daunting job of cleaning all the garbage that had piled up on the sidewalks and streets. Maybe it was the hungry bus driver, eagerly awaiting his lunch break. It could have been a random woman who hardly slept the night before because her baby was teething. Or maybe it was a random man who was racking his brain trying to figure out how to put food on the table for his family.
I am a big believer in speaking to the heart of the person before whom I am standing and I thank G-d every day for the opportunities that He gives me to teach this important and very valuable lesson to my children.
On our way to his preschool every morning, my five year old and I keep seeing the same very sweet street cleaner who always has a big smile on his face. "This man works very hard every single day so that he can put food on the table for his family", I tell my boy. "Not only does he work hard for his family, but he also works very hard for us and the rest of the people that live in Ramat Beit Shemesh, so that we can walk on clean streets".
This morning, my boy spotted him before I did. It so happens that I had picked up some danishes for the kids for after preschool and for my little guy as a prize after his imminent blood test. I suddenly had what I thought was a great idea. " My boy, here. Go give the nice man a couple of danishes for his coffee break." My boy and I walked over to the street cleaner and with big smiles we said" Here, take some cakes for when you have a coffee break". The sweet man broke out into a giant smile and thanked us profusely for the treats. When we left him, my five year old said" Ema, he said thank you to us so many times".
And that, my boy, is a lesson we can all learn from, for even in the midst of cleaning filth and garbage, this sweet holy man finds reasons to smile every morning and to thank his Creator for all that He gives him.
With Love,
Cigal
Monday, December 15, 2014
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Stolen Innocence
The flood gates have finally opened. My eyes are burning and I can taste the bitter tears, rolling down my cheeks as I am now able to sit with my aching broken heart and try to process the horrific and unspeakable murders that happened in the Holy City of Jerusalem on Tuesday. Early in the morning, four innocent men in the middle of their morning prayers were brutally murdered by Arabs along with a heroic Druze policeman who tried fighting off the terrorists.
I was waiting at the doctor's office with my almost 5 year old when I heard the news over the phone. I kept my reaction very calm and stoic and was relieved to see him playing in a far off corner where he couldn't hear me talking. After seeing the doctor, it was clear that my boy needed to be home for a couple of days so he could rest and go back to his preschool feeling much better.
Almost five, three and a half and almost 2 1/2. My three small, innocent and pure children, living in a terrifying world where there are people who would love nothing more than to destroy them, just because they are Jews. Those murderers have stolen away so many childhoods, so much innocence. Why do young children need to be afraid to ride a bus to school? Why must young teens lose total focus and concentration in school and be texting their mothers about how terrified they are, all day long? Why must our kids wake up from nightmares in the middle of the night and tell their Mommies that they hope they never die? How is a crying mother supposed to explain to her children why she and the news reporter are both crying?
I want my children to have a regular childhood. I want them to keep their innocence as long as possible. I want to them to feel safe, happy and secure. I am grateful that my almost 5 year old was home with me when this last tragedy happened. I always want to be the first one to share both good news and bad news with my children. I never want them to find out from their peers or their teachers first. I want my kids to know that they can ask me anything any time and that they can share any and all of their feelings with me any time. I want to be honest with them. I want to tell them exactly what they want to know....
And yet, I think about all my fellow Israeli mothers with older children and my heart aches for both you and your children, especially now...How crushing it must have been to tell them that innocent men had been murdered in the middle of their morning prayers...How incredibly devastating it must have been to hear them ask you why those evil monsters hate us so much...How painful it must be for you to try to comfort your children when you are inconsolable...
And yet, as believing Jews, we must believe that this is all a part of G-d's plan for us, as He prepares us for welcoming Moshiach (The Messiah). I have to believe that for reasons only He knows, this tragedy will somehow improve us as a Nation. For now, all we can do is pray, be kind to one another and do the most important mission that Hashem has entrusted us with: raising the next generation of G-d loving/ G-d fearing Jews in OUR land. The land that He gave us as a beautiful gift on a silver platter. The land that we will NEVER EVER leave.
With Love,
Cigal
I was waiting at the doctor's office with my almost 5 year old when I heard the news over the phone. I kept my reaction very calm and stoic and was relieved to see him playing in a far off corner where he couldn't hear me talking. After seeing the doctor, it was clear that my boy needed to be home for a couple of days so he could rest and go back to his preschool feeling much better.
Almost five, three and a half and almost 2 1/2. My three small, innocent and pure children, living in a terrifying world where there are people who would love nothing more than to destroy them, just because they are Jews. Those murderers have stolen away so many childhoods, so much innocence. Why do young children need to be afraid to ride a bus to school? Why must young teens lose total focus and concentration in school and be texting their mothers about how terrified they are, all day long? Why must our kids wake up from nightmares in the middle of the night and tell their Mommies that they hope they never die? How is a crying mother supposed to explain to her children why she and the news reporter are both crying?
I want my children to have a regular childhood. I want them to keep their innocence as long as possible. I want to them to feel safe, happy and secure. I am grateful that my almost 5 year old was home with me when this last tragedy happened. I always want to be the first one to share both good news and bad news with my children. I never want them to find out from their peers or their teachers first. I want my kids to know that they can ask me anything any time and that they can share any and all of their feelings with me any time. I want to be honest with them. I want to tell them exactly what they want to know....
And yet, I think about all my fellow Israeli mothers with older children and my heart aches for both you and your children, especially now...How crushing it must have been to tell them that innocent men had been murdered in the middle of their morning prayers...How incredibly devastating it must have been to hear them ask you why those evil monsters hate us so much...How painful it must be for you to try to comfort your children when you are inconsolable...
And yet, as believing Jews, we must believe that this is all a part of G-d's plan for us, as He prepares us for welcoming Moshiach (The Messiah). I have to believe that for reasons only He knows, this tragedy will somehow improve us as a Nation. For now, all we can do is pray, be kind to one another and do the most important mission that Hashem has entrusted us with: raising the next generation of G-d loving/ G-d fearing Jews in OUR land. The land that He gave us as a beautiful gift on a silver platter. The land that we will NEVER EVER leave.
With Love,
Cigal
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Our Reality
They will never feel the jitters, anticipation or excitement that one feels on his/her wedding day. They will never stand under the wedding canopy with their beloved, awaiting in anticipation for a wonderful lifetime together, although Almog and his Noy were planning to in the coming months. They will never feel the deep unconditional love that only a parent can feel when holding their newborn infant in their arms for the very first time. They will never give their parents the priceless gift of becoming grandparents....
Almog Shiloni, a 20 year old soldier from Modiin, was stabbed multiple times in the torso Monday afternoon outside a Tel Aviv train station and later succumbed to his injuries. His suspected attacker, a Palestinian man from Nablus, was arrested by police and released from the hospital for questioning by Israeli authorities Tuesday afternoon.
Almog Shiloni, a 20 year old soldier from Modiin, was stabbed multiple times in the torso Monday afternoon outside a Tel Aviv train station and later succumbed to his injuries. His suspected attacker, a Palestinian man from Nablus, was arrested by police and released from the hospital for questioning by Israeli authorities Tuesday afternoon.
Shiloni was one of two Israelis killed in
separate attacks Monday. A few hours after the Tel Aviv attack, a
26-year-old woman, Dalia Lemkus, was stabbed to death at a bus stop
outside of Alon Shvut, south of Jerusalem.
Lemkus was laid to rest in her hometown of Tekoa on Tuesday am. Two pure and beautiful souls, murdered for their one and only crime of being Jewish. And this is the reality of the Jewish people.
We are a nation made of titanium...Strong and unbreakable....But yet, our enemies continue to try to shatter us into a million pieces with the hopes that the damage could never be repaired.The collective bitter tears, the devastation, the tragic losses and the broken hearts never seem to end, and yet, our perseverance still remains and we don't give up. Because giving up is not in the cards for us. We, the people of Israel, are exactly where we're supposed to be, as one nation and one gigantic aching heart.
Monday, October 6, 2014
The Power of Forgiveness
A couple of months ago, the kids and I were at the park one afternoon when I saw a young boy do something I thought was disgusting and unsanitary for the other children in the park. The kid's mother was sitting on a park bench, chatting away with her friends, oblivious to what had just happened. My blood was boiling. I went straight over to the boy, told him what I thought and then went to his mother to tell her what her boy had done and how she needed to stop him from doing this again. My tone was harsh, accusing and extremely judgmental.
For weeks after the incident, every time I thought about this mother and her young boy, my blood would boil. Every time I saw either one of them, I was remionded again of how angry I felt that day at the park....
Come the Aseret Yemey Teshuva(10 days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, The day of Atonement) and my thoughts kept coming back to this mother and her son, but this time instead of rage and judgment, the feeling of shame set in. How could I have spoken so harshly to that mother when she was surrounded by all her friends? I should have pulled her aside at least. How could I have embarrassed her so badly? What a massive transgression I had committed! The Torah forbids embarrassing another person SO adamantly! According to Torah Law, when you embarrass someone, it's as though you have committed murder.
Yesterday afternoon, the kids and I were having a stroll in our neighborhood when I saw that mother heading in the same direction as us. I told the kids" Guys, watch this! Ema has a huge mitzvah opportunity and I'm gonna take it!". The kids followed me as I ran to stop the woman. She's a Hebrew speaker who lives in our neighborhood. I told her that I was very sorry for calling her out in public a couple of months back. That it was very wrong of me to humiliate her that way. I told her that I still think that what her son did was wrong and that I still think that she should talk to him and tell him not to do that again, but that I am so very sorry about the way I dealt with the situation. The mother broke out into a huge smile and said" Wow! You're so brave! I don't think I would have had the courage to say sorry. Kol Hakavod to you(Way to go!)." She reached out and gave me a big hug, we introduced ourselves by name, wished each other "Shana Tova" (Happy New Year) and parted ways.
After parting ways, I asked my kids to replay what had happened, as I thought this was a fantastic teachable moment for them. My oldest said" Ema, you asked for forgiveness" and my daughter said" You did Teshuva" (repentance). That's right, my Angels. That's exactly it.
Thank you, Hashem, for giving me the opportunity to do the right thing and for allowing my children to witness their Ema taking responsibility for her wrongdoing, while feeling the tremendous power of forgiveness.
With Love,
Cigal
For weeks after the incident, every time I thought about this mother and her young boy, my blood would boil. Every time I saw either one of them, I was remionded again of how angry I felt that day at the park....
Come the Aseret Yemey Teshuva(10 days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, The day of Atonement) and my thoughts kept coming back to this mother and her son, but this time instead of rage and judgment, the feeling of shame set in. How could I have spoken so harshly to that mother when she was surrounded by all her friends? I should have pulled her aside at least. How could I have embarrassed her so badly? What a massive transgression I had committed! The Torah forbids embarrassing another person SO adamantly! According to Torah Law, when you embarrass someone, it's as though you have committed murder.
Yesterday afternoon, the kids and I were having a stroll in our neighborhood when I saw that mother heading in the same direction as us. I told the kids" Guys, watch this! Ema has a huge mitzvah opportunity and I'm gonna take it!". The kids followed me as I ran to stop the woman. She's a Hebrew speaker who lives in our neighborhood. I told her that I was very sorry for calling her out in public a couple of months back. That it was very wrong of me to humiliate her that way. I told her that I still think that what her son did was wrong and that I still think that she should talk to him and tell him not to do that again, but that I am so very sorry about the way I dealt with the situation. The mother broke out into a huge smile and said" Wow! You're so brave! I don't think I would have had the courage to say sorry. Kol Hakavod to you(Way to go!)." She reached out and gave me a big hug, we introduced ourselves by name, wished each other "Shana Tova" (Happy New Year) and parted ways.
After parting ways, I asked my kids to replay what had happened, as I thought this was a fantastic teachable moment for them. My oldest said" Ema, you asked for forgiveness" and my daughter said" You did Teshuva" (repentance). That's right, my Angels. That's exactly it.
Thank you, Hashem, for giving me the opportunity to do the right thing and for allowing my children to witness their Ema taking responsibility for her wrongdoing, while feeling the tremendous power of forgiveness.
With Love,
Cigal
Monday, September 29, 2014
Listen to Your Soul
(Same blog as YK 2011, adapted)
Most people generally love Chanukka or Passover. Some really go all out on Purim. Others love Rosh Hashana.
When someone asks me what my favorite Jewish holiday is, they are often quite perplexed by my answer. Yom Kippur is my favorite holiday. Let me explain.
My ex husband and I were high school sweethearts. We met when we were 16, were the best of friends and after a couple of years, something happened and our friendship blossomed into something more . I was not religious growing up but I always went to synagogue on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Every year on Yom Kippur, while in the sanctuary, I felt a small tug in my heart from all the beautiful tunes and words...Sometimes so much so that I would cry, even at age 8. At 18, we started dating and at 21 we broke up. At 24, we found our way back to each other and moved across the country together (from Montreal to Vancouver). We were essentially married in all ways...Except that we weren't really. At 28 we got married officially. My ex was not interested in Judaism or any religion for that matter. Little did I know what a central and core part of me I was giving away by marrying him...I remember a couple of months after our wedding, it was Yom Kippur and I was in synagogue without him. Except this time, it was no longer small tugs on my heart, it was a powerful and breath stopping pull that I had never ever felt before. I was moved to tears...As I looked over the mechitza(separation between men and women in an Orthodox synagogue), I was overcome with the most intense and overwhelming sense of clarity...I had married the wrong man. As I looked over the mechitza and saw all the little boys sitting on their Abas' laps, it hit me like a ton of bricks that my children would never experience Yom Kippur with their Aba if I stayed married to my husband...
My soul was screaming in pain, howling in agony and I listened to it. I listened to my Pintele Yid( my G-dly spark) and I followed it on a journey into the unknown. And for over a decade, I have experienced the true beauty and joy of Yom Kippur...The Day of Atonement...My time to reconnect with Abaleh, my Father in Heaven. My time for opportunity to renew my relationship with Him and the people I love and care about. The fasting can be challenging, but it serves as a really important and useful purpose in my opinion.
Yom Kippur is going to look very different this year than it has in past years, as I will be home with the little ones most of the time. I will likely not have many (or any) opportunities to be in synagogue, but I intend to find opportunities to steal some time to talk to Abaleh and thank Him yet again for pushing me to the place that I am at now: married to the perfect man for me, entrusted with raising three of His Precious Jewels.
My dear readers who observe Yom Kippur and to all my dear brothers and sisters who may be experiencing a screaming and crying soul like I was all those years ago, come back Home. Abaleh is right here, waiting to hear from you, waiting to shower you with an abundance of blessings. Listen to your soul. It knows best.
Gmar Chatima Tova with Love,
Cigal
Sunday, September 14, 2014
My Elul Checklist
In the Jewish tradition, the month of Elul is a time of
Teshuva(repentance)in preparation for the High Holy Days of Rosh Hashana
and Yom Kippur.
The Talmud writes that the Hebrew word "Elul" can be expanded as an
acronym for "Ani L'dodi V'dodi Li" - "I am my beloved's and my beloved
is mine" (Song of Solomon 6:3). Elul is seen as a time to search one's
heart and draw close to God in preparation for the coming Day of
Judgement, Rosh Hashana, and the Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur.
It is a great time of year to let go of past grievances with people and an equally great time to ask Hashem to support us in granting those people complete and total amnesty. This can sometimes be very difficult, especially if we've been badly hurt and if the residual feelings of pain have not been dealt with.
Make a list of all the behaviors and incidents over the past year that you would like to be forgiven for. Then make a list of all the people with whom you have grievances and write down what you need to forgive them for, while asking Hashem for the support you need to rid your heart from hatred, anger, resentment and jealousy.
You are a beautiful person, both inside and out and Hashem is RIGHT here, in the field, waiting to hear your tfilot(prayers). He loves you and wants only what's best for you. He knows you MUCH better than you know yourself, so let go and let G-d in.
As Jews, we are so incredibly blessed to have been given this amazing opportunity to do some serious cheshbon hanefesh(soul searching/self examination) and to begin a New Year with a clean slate.
Let us take the opportunity head on and make Hashem, our Father in Heaven, proud of us for making the effort to start a new year from scratch.
With Love,
Cigal
It is a great time of year to let go of past grievances with people and an equally great time to ask Hashem to support us in granting those people complete and total amnesty. This can sometimes be very difficult, especially if we've been badly hurt and if the residual feelings of pain have not been dealt with.
Make a list of all the behaviors and incidents over the past year that you would like to be forgiven for. Then make a list of all the people with whom you have grievances and write down what you need to forgive them for, while asking Hashem for the support you need to rid your heart from hatred, anger, resentment and jealousy.
You are a beautiful person, both inside and out and Hashem is RIGHT here, in the field, waiting to hear your tfilot(prayers). He loves you and wants only what's best for you. He knows you MUCH better than you know yourself, so let go and let G-d in.
As Jews, we are so incredibly blessed to have been given this amazing opportunity to do some serious cheshbon hanefesh(soul searching/self examination) and to begin a New Year with a clean slate.
Let us take the opportunity head on and make Hashem, our Father in Heaven, proud of us for making the effort to start a new year from scratch.
With Love,
Cigal
G-d Bless the Ganenot
Every Friday, my kids come home from their respective ganim(preschools) with folders that hold all their artwork from the week as well as a note from the teachers about what they learned during the week.In our family, I generally gather all the artwork as soon as they get home on Friday, find good spots on my already very decorated walls and hang them up. People who come to our home often think that I run a preschool from home, as my children's colorful and creative artwork is plastered all over the walls, windows and doors. It makes them super proud to see their work and it puts a huge smile on my face when I see all the wonderful things my children are learning.
This past Friday night, after lighting Shabbat candles, my children and I were sitting and cuddling on the couch when I said: "Kids, you must be learning about Teshuva(repentance) as we're getting so close to Yamim Noraim(Days of Awe)". My oldest, 4 year old boy then says to me"Teshuva, v'Tfila u'Tzedaka Ma'avirin et Roa HaGezera"(Repentance,Prayer and Charity wipe out a harsh verdict). Then my daughter, 3 years old says to me: "Eyze hu Gibor? Ha kovesh et Yitzro"(Who is a hero? He who conquers his desires). My two year old kept pointing at a picture he drew, saying ;"Daka, Daka"( Tzedaka, of the charity box he colored in his preschool).
My 4, 3 and 2 year olds, all born and being raised in THEIR land. The land that Hashem promised to all of us. It brings tears of pride and joy to my eyes when my small children come home quoting Torah and even more so when they explain their quotes beautifully.
I feel incredibly blessed by the beautiful ganenot(preschool teachers) that we (and Hashem) have chosen for our children.
Hodu L'Hashem Ki Tov, Ki L'Olam Chasdo!
With Love,
Cigal
This past Friday night, after lighting Shabbat candles, my children and I were sitting and cuddling on the couch when I said: "Kids, you must be learning about Teshuva(repentance) as we're getting so close to Yamim Noraim(Days of Awe)". My oldest, 4 year old boy then says to me"Teshuva, v'Tfila u'Tzedaka Ma'avirin et Roa HaGezera"(Repentance,Prayer and Charity wipe out a harsh verdict). Then my daughter, 3 years old says to me: "Eyze hu Gibor? Ha kovesh et Yitzro"(Who is a hero? He who conquers his desires). My two year old kept pointing at a picture he drew, saying ;"Daka, Daka"( Tzedaka, of the charity box he colored in his preschool).
My 4, 3 and 2 year olds, all born and being raised in THEIR land. The land that Hashem promised to all of us. It brings tears of pride and joy to my eyes when my small children come home quoting Torah and even more so when they explain their quotes beautifully.
I feel incredibly blessed by the beautiful ganenot(preschool teachers) that we (and Hashem) have chosen for our children.
Hodu L'Hashem Ki Tov, Ki L'Olam Chasdo!
With Love,
Cigal
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Fear
The other day, a friend of mine on Facebook posted the following:"Starting to feel like an emotional yo-yo on a string that is getting dangerously frayed. And it resonated with me. Very much.
It feels as though our Prime Minister has sold us out by accepting a ceasefire.
Israel looks weak yet again & Hamas will just take this time to re-stock. How can the government justify this to citizens under fire & to the families of the wounded & killed soldiers? I just don't understand...
It's been a very long, painful and difficult summer for all of us on both personal and national levels. Our three boys. Rockets, sirens, War. Our brothers and sisters in uniform risking their lives for us. Sweet heroes injured and killed at the hands of evil murderers. A government that seems to care more about the world's opinions of us than about us, the citizens who have a right to live in peace and safety.
I keep telling myself that there must be some big secrets that I don't know. That Bibi is doing what's best for us even though we can't see it. Even though we think it's insanity to accept a truce with terrorists, I keep praying that he sees things from a perspective that none of us Israelis will ever see or hear. I really want to trust that he has our best interests at heart, but when I think about him and his choices, I freeze in fear. So I change my train of thought and think about You, Abaleh.
You know what's best for Your Holy Nation, Am Yisrael. You love us and want what's best for us. Everything that happens is for the best. Even growing pains. Even loss and heart ache have a higher purpose. So every time fear creeps into my heart, every time I worry about my people, instead of focusing on the choices my government is making, I will continue to make the attempt to remind myself that You run the world, Abaleh. That You know EXACTLY what You're doing.
And the main thing is not to fear. והעיקר לא לפחד כלל
With Love,
Cigal
It feels as though our Prime Minister has sold us out by accepting a ceasefire.
Israel looks weak yet again & Hamas will just take this time to re-stock. How can the government justify this to citizens under fire & to the families of the wounded & killed soldiers? I just don't understand...
It's been a very long, painful and difficult summer for all of us on both personal and national levels. Our three boys. Rockets, sirens, War. Our brothers and sisters in uniform risking their lives for us. Sweet heroes injured and killed at the hands of evil murderers. A government that seems to care more about the world's opinions of us than about us, the citizens who have a right to live in peace and safety.
I keep telling myself that there must be some big secrets that I don't know. That Bibi is doing what's best for us even though we can't see it. Even though we think it's insanity to accept a truce with terrorists, I keep praying that he sees things from a perspective that none of us Israelis will ever see or hear. I really want to trust that he has our best interests at heart, but when I think about him and his choices, I freeze in fear. So I change my train of thought and think about You, Abaleh.
You know what's best for Your Holy Nation, Am Yisrael. You love us and want what's best for us. Everything that happens is for the best. Even growing pains. Even loss and heart ache have a higher purpose. So every time fear creeps into my heart, every time I worry about my people, instead of focusing on the choices my government is making, I will continue to make the attempt to remind myself that You run the world, Abaleh. That You know EXACTLY what You're doing.
And the main thing is not to fear. והעיקר לא לפחד כלל
With Love,
Cigal
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Fill The Love Tank
Since I was a kid, birthdays have always been very special to me. On birthdays, you got to choose the events of the day, you got surprises and gifts up the ying yang and in general, it was a fun and special day that was tailor made just for you.
Hubby had a very different experience with birthdays growing up. In his family, birthdays weren't such a big deal. They kind of came and went with no special way to mark them.
When we got married six years ago, our differences in this area became painfully clear. When he turned 40, I went all out and threw him a big surprise party with all his friends and family, good food and fun games. One year, he bought me a vase. Another year, a pair of earrings that I went to replace.
This year, after 5 years of being disappointed, I decided not to have any hopes or expectations. Hubby said that he wanted to take me out to our favorite restaurant for my Hebrew birthday and I really was not in the mood to go out. The war, my baby's hand saga, overwhelming exhaustion...I had a million excuses.Finally, with a tremendous amount of coaxing, he convinced me that I needed a night out, that I needed a break from the kitchen, etc.
At our favorite restaurant, he presented me with a very appreciated gift...A gift certificate for a massage, always a welcome treat for a tired, underpaid and overworked mama. I was content. And as I was sharing with him that this was the perfect gift and showing deep appreciation, suddenly behind me, I hear a loud group burst into the Hebrew version of "Happy Birthday to you" and I make nothing of it until I hear my name.
I turn around and I see my nearest and dearest friends from all over Israel. Some had driven two hours to make the surprise. My heart turned to mush as my jaw dropped. These wonderful friends whom I love. This fabulous husband whose love for me knows no bounds...Every ounce of birthday disappointment that I had ever experienced with my husband completely disappeared in one night. And it struck me. My love tank was running on empty. And knowing me like he does, Hubby came up with the perfect medicine...Bringing together my dearest friends to celebrate.
There are a few things I learned from my very special birthday this year:
1) I knew this but it became clearer than daylight that Hubby loves me deeply and would do anything to make me happy.
2) Sometimes when you don't expect anything, you get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams.
3) I have fantastic friends
4) I need to stay on top of my love tank and when it's starting to dry up, so that I know it needs a refill
With Love,
Cigal
Hubby had a very different experience with birthdays growing up. In his family, birthdays weren't such a big deal. They kind of came and went with no special way to mark them.
When we got married six years ago, our differences in this area became painfully clear. When he turned 40, I went all out and threw him a big surprise party with all his friends and family, good food and fun games. One year, he bought me a vase. Another year, a pair of earrings that I went to replace.
This year, after 5 years of being disappointed, I decided not to have any hopes or expectations. Hubby said that he wanted to take me out to our favorite restaurant for my Hebrew birthday and I really was not in the mood to go out. The war, my baby's hand saga, overwhelming exhaustion...I had a million excuses.Finally, with a tremendous amount of coaxing, he convinced me that I needed a night out, that I needed a break from the kitchen, etc.
At our favorite restaurant, he presented me with a very appreciated gift...A gift certificate for a massage, always a welcome treat for a tired, underpaid and overworked mama. I was content. And as I was sharing with him that this was the perfect gift and showing deep appreciation, suddenly behind me, I hear a loud group burst into the Hebrew version of "Happy Birthday to you" and I make nothing of it until I hear my name.
I turn around and I see my nearest and dearest friends from all over Israel. Some had driven two hours to make the surprise. My heart turned to mush as my jaw dropped. These wonderful friends whom I love. This fabulous husband whose love for me knows no bounds...Every ounce of birthday disappointment that I had ever experienced with my husband completely disappeared in one night. And it struck me. My love tank was running on empty. And knowing me like he does, Hubby came up with the perfect medicine...Bringing together my dearest friends to celebrate.
There are a few things I learned from my very special birthday this year:
1) I knew this but it became clearer than daylight that Hubby loves me deeply and would do anything to make me happy.
2) Sometimes when you don't expect anything, you get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams.
3) I have fantastic friends
4) I need to stay on top of my love tank and when it's starting to dry up, so that I know it needs a refill
With Love,
Cigal
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Proud
Every day and every night, I hear our boys in fighter jets overhead and it fills me with a sense of both comfort and dread at the same time. Comfort that these holy boys and girls have been trained to protect us and dread that G-d forbid they or we should get hurt or killed.
My 4 year old has made up his own prayer to G-d for when he hears the jets overhead" Ema! Listen! It's our Chayalim(soldiers)" and then he proceeds with" Our Father in Heaven, please protect our righteous soldiers and bring them home safely and quickly without any booboos on any part of their bodies"(translated from Hebrew).
I and all the other mothers here have done everything we could do to maintain a sense of "normalcy", by sending the kids to camps, doing mommy camps, going to gymboree, playing in the parks, and yet, our children have experienced sirens and have had to run for shelter on numerous occasions. Even the smallest of children know that there are evil people out there who want to hurt us. Their summers have been lower key than otherwise planned. Their sleeps have been interrupted in the middle of the night in order to run for shelter or be carried to shelter. I hate that there's a small part of my children's innocence that was stolen away from them. I hate the fact that this song gives them comfort https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SoB1AjVCueU
I hate that the war doesn't yet feel over to me. I hate that I get a small pang of jealousy when I see pictures of friends' kids outside of Israel without a care in the world, splashing around in their lakes by their cottages or splashing around carefree in swimming pools...
But I love the fact that my beautiful Nation has truly become one giant heart & soul over the last couple of months. I thank G-d every single day that I am a part of this awe-inspiring nation. I love the fact that during the war, so many of the barriers between left and right, Ashkenazi/Sefardi, religious and not religious, Charedi and National religious seemed to have melted away. I love the way communities rallied together to bake for the soldiers, bring them toiletries, send them love letters, prayed for them, gathered at their funerals and at their shiva houses, comforted the fallen soldiers' families...There have been boundless amounts of love, support and kindness among us.
I for one just LOVE when my kids play nice together. I LOVE when they share, when they are kind to one another and put each others' needs first. I LOVE when they listen and are helpful around the house. So too, I feel, Abaleh, our Father in Heaven, really enjoys and appreciates when we show deep love, care, appreciation and compassion for our brothers and sisters. In my heart of hearts, even in the excruciating pain of all of our losses, I truly believe that we've made Abaleh proud of us.
With Love,
Cigal
Thursday, July 31, 2014
How can I?
There are so many places I would love to take my children this summer...The ocean, a public swimming pool, a fun water hike,an amusement park....
But how can I allow for my little ones to squeal in joy and delight when my other children are in very serious danger, fighting for their own existence, as well as ours? How can I go on vacation-like outings when my beautiful boys and girls in uniform are getting ambushed, seriously injured and killed? When rockets and missiles are constantly being targeted at us , with the goal of killing us all? How terrifying would it be if I were to take my little ones to the ocean or the swimming pool and a siren were to go off while we were in the water? At least at home, I know they're safely tucked away in their beds as the siren sounds.
And what about those evil terror tunnels? Hamas had been planning a surprise attack where 200 fighters would have been dispatched through the dozens of tunnels that they had dug under the border from Gaza to Israel. The goal was to seize kibbutzim and other communities while killing and kidnapping Israeli civilians. In total, thousands of Hamas terrorists would have been swarming across Israel, wearing IDF uniforms, which would have further complicated an Israeli response. So now we know this. And that is why we must finish the very dirty job that we started. And at the same time, we need to continue living while still remaining alert and cautious about whom and what surrounds us at at every given minute.
In this excruciating summer heat, how much would I love to take my little ones to the ocean and watch them shriek with joy and delight as the cool waves splash against their beautiful sun-kissed faces? But how can I, when my beautiful boys and girls in uniform are outdoors on extremely dangerous territory, with no respite from the unbearable scorching sun? These young heroes don't even know if they'll ever return home again. Or if they'll ever get to hug and kiss their mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers again.
I hate that our enemies have pushed us into this corner...I hate that the children and families in my country are being cheated from a fun and enjoyable summer. I hate that my holy children in uniform are faced with insane moral dilemmas every single minute of every single day, while their peers outside of Israel are partying it up at coffee shops, bars and outdoor fun.
I'm sorry, my sweet and beautiful children , but we're going to have to lay low this summer. I look forward to the day that I don't have to hesitate or worry about taking you out for a day of fun.
With Love,
Cigal
But how can I allow for my little ones to squeal in joy and delight when my other children are in very serious danger, fighting for their own existence, as well as ours? How can I go on vacation-like outings when my beautiful boys and girls in uniform are getting ambushed, seriously injured and killed? When rockets and missiles are constantly being targeted at us , with the goal of killing us all? How terrifying would it be if I were to take my little ones to the ocean or the swimming pool and a siren were to go off while we were in the water? At least at home, I know they're safely tucked away in their beds as the siren sounds.
And what about those evil terror tunnels? Hamas had been planning a surprise attack where 200 fighters would have been dispatched through the dozens of tunnels that they had dug under the border from Gaza to Israel. The goal was to seize kibbutzim and other communities while killing and kidnapping Israeli civilians. In total, thousands of Hamas terrorists would have been swarming across Israel, wearing IDF uniforms, which would have further complicated an Israeli response. So now we know this. And that is why we must finish the very dirty job that we started. And at the same time, we need to continue living while still remaining alert and cautious about whom and what surrounds us at at every given minute.
In this excruciating summer heat, how much would I love to take my little ones to the ocean and watch them shriek with joy and delight as the cool waves splash against their beautiful sun-kissed faces? But how can I, when my beautiful boys and girls in uniform are outdoors on extremely dangerous territory, with no respite from the unbearable scorching sun? These young heroes don't even know if they'll ever return home again. Or if they'll ever get to hug and kiss their mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers again.
I hate that our enemies have pushed us into this corner...I hate that the children and families in my country are being cheated from a fun and enjoyable summer. I hate that my holy children in uniform are faced with insane moral dilemmas every single minute of every single day, while their peers outside of Israel are partying it up at coffee shops, bars and outdoor fun.
I'm sorry, my sweet and beautiful children , but we're going to have to lay low this summer. I look forward to the day that I don't have to hesitate or worry about taking you out for a day of fun.
With Love,
Cigal
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
The Beautiful Woman
Who are you? What are you? Where do you find the strength? Are you all logic? All heart? Or a little bit of both?
People say you're weak and sensitive. People often treat you with kid gloves, as they would a china doll, for fear of breaking you.
You're often the one who prepares all the meals and keeps the house clean.
When someone is sick, you're right there offering hugs and comfort around the clock.
You're the director of your department and the head of maintenance.
You may be a nursery teacher, a doctor, a lawyer, a psychologist or a teacher.
Or your job may not pay you a salary.
You may wear a size two, and maybe you wear a size 12.
You are whole and beautiful, no matter what your shape or size is.
Your words provide a sense of security, love and comfort to those around you.
Your lips are constantly moving in prayer for their well being for now and for ever.
Your hearty belly laughs when you're happy are contagious.
The cries from the depths of your soul when you're sad make others want to hold you.
When something wonderful happens for you or someone you love, you cry tears of joy.
Your intuition guides you when you allow it to.
You feel deeply and listen with your heart.
You are somebody's wife and you may be someone's mother. You are a woman. A strong, beautiful and courageous woman.
Feel proud about who you are.
With Love,
Cigal
People say you're weak and sensitive. People often treat you with kid gloves, as they would a china doll, for fear of breaking you.
You're often the one who prepares all the meals and keeps the house clean.
When someone is sick, you're right there offering hugs and comfort around the clock.
You're the director of your department and the head of maintenance.
You may be a nursery teacher, a doctor, a lawyer, a psychologist or a teacher.
Or your job may not pay you a salary.
You may wear a size two, and maybe you wear a size 12.
You are whole and beautiful, no matter what your shape or size is.
Your words provide a sense of security, love and comfort to those around you.
Your lips are constantly moving in prayer for their well being for now and for ever.
Your hearty belly laughs when you're happy are contagious.
The cries from the depths of your soul when you're sad make others want to hold you.
When something wonderful happens for you or someone you love, you cry tears of joy.
Your intuition guides you when you allow it to.
You feel deeply and listen with your heart.
You are somebody's wife and you may be someone's mother. You are a woman. A strong, beautiful and courageous woman.
Feel proud about who you are.
With Love,
Cigal
Monday, July 28, 2014
Incomplete
We have now entered the period of the Nine Days, a period of heavy grief, mourning and impending tragedies for the Jewish people.
The Torah
describes the famous story of the 12 spies ― one
from each tribe ― who are sent into Israel to explore the land. Their
mission is to determine how to battle the
Cananites and then settle 3 million men, women and children in the new
land. The spies are sent to check out
fortification of the cities, geography of the land, opportunities for
farming and commerce, the best access routes, etc.
In addition, G-d planned the death of a Cananite nobleman to coincide with the spies’ visit, so that the locals would be too busy with funeral arrangements and mourning to notice the spies. Everything was perfectly orchestrated; nothing could possibly go wrong.
Yet somehow, things do go wrong. After 40 days, the spies came back and 10 of them recommended against entering the land. They reported: “We can’t succeed because everything is huge!” ― a reference to the gigantic fruits. “We can’t succeed because the land devours its inhabitants!” ― a reference to the funeral. “And we can’t succeed because it’s too strong!” ― a reference to the heavily fortified walls. (see Numbers 13:31-33).
The Nation of Israel accepts the very negative report, and gives up their dream of going into Israel. The consequence? If you don’t want to enter the land, says G-d, then you won’t enter the land. All Israelites will die out over the next 40 years in the desert, and only their children will enter the land.
Numbers 14:1 tells us the people’s reaction to this news: “The people wept that night.” That night was Tisha B’Av, the ninth day of the Jewish month of Av. God declared: “They cried for no reason; in the future I’ll give them good reason to cry.”
Throughout history, terrible things have happened to the Jewish people on Tisha B'Av. The First Temple was destroyed by the Babylonians under Nebuchadneazar. The destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans, under Titus. The Spanish Inquisition. World War I began. World War II began. Deportations to Treblinka began. The deadly bombing of the Jewish community center in Buenos Aires. The Expulsion from Gush Katif was during the Nine Days.
And all of these tragedies stem from us, The Nation of Israel, and our tremendous lack of gratitude to Hashem, our Father in Heaven, when He was giving us the most beautiful gift that we downright rejected. The Land of Israel.
To all my brothers and sisters here in Israel, by living here we are doing our repair work but we need help from our brothers and sisters outside of here. Dear Diaspora Jews, we are incomplete without you. We need you. Without you, we are missing vital organs and limbs. Unlike the report of the spies that "the land devours its inhabitants", take a look around you. Vicious acts of anti-Semitism continue to grow around the world...Montreal, Calgary, Toronto, France...The other countries of the world are devouring their inhabitants...The only safe place for a Jew is in his natural habitat. ISRAEL.
With Love,
Cigal
Thursday, July 24, 2014
What I need
When I lived in Vancouver as a single woman, I owned a nice car and had a beautiful apartment with hardwood floors overlooking beautiful snow-capped mountains. I had excellent job satisfaction working in my career of choice as a school counselor. I went on vacations to Whistler and Montreal and had money leftover for shopping and going out to restaurants whenever I felt like it....
As a married woman living in Israel, I have three beautiful children(BA"H). We live in a small two bedroom apartment with a tiny kitchen and no counter space. We don't have a car. We rely on buses and trains for our modes of transportation. I have been home raising my children since my first was born 4 1/2 years ago and am planning to go back to work in September, G-d willing. If I'm very lucky, my salary will be half what it was in Vancouver. We don't go on vacations. I haven't visited Canada in 4 years. We go to restaurants once a month, maybe less. Shopping usually happens when my mom comes to visit. Yet, if I'm to be honest with myself, we have everything we need(even though we don't have everything we want, like a car and some counter space in the kitchen).
Before Eyal, Gilad and Naftali got kidnapped, I was really feeling the lack of materials in my life and fantasizing about how much easier life would be for us in Canada...We'd probably own a house, have a mini van, send our kids to Jewish day schools, send them to after school programs like ballet and tae-kwon-do just like all our friends there do...We'd have money to go on family vacations, maybe even a trip to Disney World...Most importantly, we would be keeping them safe by keeping them away from the army...
And then we discovered that our three boys had been murdered and my whole world and all my fantasies crashed beneath me. It could have been any one of us. It could have been one of my own sons that I birthed, G-d forbid. My upstairs or downstairs' neighbor's son. It could have been one of my cousins, friends, co-workers....
And then Operation Tzuk Eitan began in Gaza. And every day, the death toll rises.
As a married woman living in Israel, I have three beautiful children(BA"H). We live in a small two bedroom apartment with a tiny kitchen and no counter space. We don't have a car. We rely on buses and trains for our modes of transportation. I have been home raising my children since my first was born 4 1/2 years ago and am planning to go back to work in September, G-d willing. If I'm very lucky, my salary will be half what it was in Vancouver. We don't go on vacations. I haven't visited Canada in 4 years. We go to restaurants once a month, maybe less. Shopping usually happens when my mom comes to visit. Yet, if I'm to be honest with myself, we have everything we need(even though we don't have everything we want, like a car and some counter space in the kitchen).
Before Eyal, Gilad and Naftali got kidnapped, I was really feeling the lack of materials in my life and fantasizing about how much easier life would be for us in Canada...We'd probably own a house, have a mini van, send our kids to Jewish day schools, send them to after school programs like ballet and tae-kwon-do just like all our friends there do...We'd have money to go on family vacations, maybe even a trip to Disney World...Most importantly, we would be keeping them safe by keeping them away from the army...
And then we discovered that our three boys had been murdered and my whole world and all my fantasies crashed beneath me. It could have been any one of us. It could have been one of my own sons that I birthed, G-d forbid. My upstairs or downstairs' neighbor's son. It could have been one of my cousins, friends, co-workers....
And then Operation Tzuk Eitan began in Gaza. And every day, the death toll rises.
And every day, another
piece of our collective heart breaks with each soldier we lose. It's an
unbearable load to bear. Sometimes it feels like I seriously can't
breathe. But that is EXACTLY why we MUST go on and that is EXACTLY why I must stay here. To stop the war now means that
those holy and precious lives were wasted. For me to contemplate leaving this land that I love so much just for "an easier life" no longer makes any sense to me.
As I read editorials and opinion pieces about the war in Gaza, it becomes clearer and clearer by the minute that the world hates the Jews. A Jew is not safe ANYWHERE but here. Because this is our home. This is where my children are gonna grow up. This is where they will flourish as good, strong and contributing members of a society that needs them so. And instead of sitting in a classroom in Canada learning about Jewish history or sitting in a comfortable armchair watching the news unfold, they will be MAKING Jewish history.
What more do I need?
With Love,
Cigal
Sunday, July 6, 2014
Speak Your Truth with Love
We live in a religious community with mostly wonderful people who do tremendous chessed(good deeds) and are constantly striving to improve their relationship with G-d and their fellow Jew. There are many lovely parks for small children to play in and some fantastic pre-schools. But our community is very much lacking activities for our tweens and teens. We don't have anywhere for them to gather in healthy and positive ways , such as a clubhouse, a pool hall, basketball courts, a soccer field, a swimming pool or a skating park.Unfortunately, bored teens with no healthy outlets turn to all kinds of problematic behaviors, such as drinking, smoking, using drugs and vandalism.
About a month ago, my 22 month old baby fell on his hand at a park down the street from our home and got a cut that was bleeding profusely. I was sure a piece of glass went in. There happened to be a Hatzala ambulance right near there, so I ran over with my crying baby...The guy washed his wound, bandaged him up and told me to go to my doctor. My doctor wasn't working that day. The doctor I took him to washed the hand, glued it and wrapped it up. I told her I was sure there was something in there and she adamantly disagreed. She said it looked worse than it was. That night( The eve of Shavuot), little guy pulled off the glue and the bandage.The wound got totally infected even with me putting on antibiotic cream and bandages twice a day . On Friday am, his doctor said to continue with the antibiotic cream until Sunday and that if it wasn't improving, we'd put him on oral antibiotics. I told his doctor I was sure it wasn't going to help because I was now 1000% sure there was something stuck in his hand. After a week of antibiotics, I brought him back to his doctor who said "you're probably right...go to emergency". They did an xray and I, a complete layman, saw something obviously there. They tried local anesthetic and couldn't get it out because it was too deep, so he got admitted for surgery. He stopped eating at 11am.At 12:45 am, late Wednesday night or early Thursday am, they took him in for surgery and told me it would last the most an hour. I was the only one in the waiting room, with pitch black hallways surrounding me and not a soul in sight. My heart was palpitating like it never had before.At 3:20 am( almost 3 hours later), the surgeon came out with a little jar and the piece of glass(the size of my pinky nail). Apparently, the glass had punctured an artery and two nerves, so they had to do reparative surgery to boot and then he had to be on IV blood thinners for 5 full days.
My heart aches for my brave little soldier who sat with a shard of glass in his hand for 2 1/2 weeks and barely complained. My emotions range from rage at the first doctor for undermining my very strong motherly instincts that something was in his little hand. Then the rage moves to our bored teens who hang out in the parks drinking beer and vodka. Out of sheer boredom and thoughtlessness, these wayward youth go on to smash their empty bottles on the ground where little children play. And then there's our mayor and his municipality workers who do very little, if anything to fix the problem...
I have lived here for almost 6 years and have accepted all these things like most of the other residents do, But NO MORE ACCEPTANCE. It's time to speak up. No more complacency.
The other night, as I was heading home from the supermarket, I saw a large group of teen Hebrew speaking boys smoking, being ultra loud and boisterous and hanging out on the stairs by a park near my home. I walked past them and then decided "Nope, G-d is giving me an opportunity and I'm not gonna miss it".
I walked back to the boys, stopped and wished them a good evening with a big smile on my face. I then proceeded to ask them if they ever indulge in a nice cold beer or a refreshing bottle of vodka in the parks. They rolled their eyeballs at me and one of them said" No, we don't drink at all, it's so bad for us". He laughed and then he rolled his eyes again. I didn't let that stop me. I said" Do you ever see anyone else drink and then break their bottle?" "Ya", said the ringleader. "But I never do that"(he got softer). I said"The reason I'm asking is because my baby fell on a piece of broken glass at the park and had to have major surgery". The Ringleader looked white like a ghost. I said "You boys look like good boys"(they totally LOOKED and ACTED the part of beer-bottle-smashing-teens). "I'm sure you guys are also smart boys and you know not to throw bottles on the ground, especially in a park where children play. But I'm asking you to help me out here. If you see anyone doing that, please remember my baby and tell his story". The Ringleader was silent and looked distraught after I shared our story.
If I positively affected even ONE of those 15 teens to do the right thing, that's a great start.
With Love,
Cigal
About a month ago, my 22 month old baby fell on his hand at a park down the street from our home and got a cut that was bleeding profusely. I was sure a piece of glass went in. There happened to be a Hatzala ambulance right near there, so I ran over with my crying baby...The guy washed his wound, bandaged him up and told me to go to my doctor. My doctor wasn't working that day. The doctor I took him to washed the hand, glued it and wrapped it up. I told her I was sure there was something in there and she adamantly disagreed. She said it looked worse than it was. That night( The eve of Shavuot), little guy pulled off the glue and the bandage.The wound got totally infected even with me putting on antibiotic cream and bandages twice a day . On Friday am, his doctor said to continue with the antibiotic cream until Sunday and that if it wasn't improving, we'd put him on oral antibiotics. I told his doctor I was sure it wasn't going to help because I was now 1000% sure there was something stuck in his hand. After a week of antibiotics, I brought him back to his doctor who said "you're probably right...go to emergency". They did an xray and I, a complete layman, saw something obviously there. They tried local anesthetic and couldn't get it out because it was too deep, so he got admitted for surgery. He stopped eating at 11am.At 12:45 am, late Wednesday night or early Thursday am, they took him in for surgery and told me it would last the most an hour. I was the only one in the waiting room, with pitch black hallways surrounding me and not a soul in sight. My heart was palpitating like it never had before.At 3:20 am( almost 3 hours later), the surgeon came out with a little jar and the piece of glass(the size of my pinky nail). Apparently, the glass had punctured an artery and two nerves, so they had to do reparative surgery to boot and then he had to be on IV blood thinners for 5 full days.
My heart aches for my brave little soldier who sat with a shard of glass in his hand for 2 1/2 weeks and barely complained. My emotions range from rage at the first doctor for undermining my very strong motherly instincts that something was in his little hand. Then the rage moves to our bored teens who hang out in the parks drinking beer and vodka. Out of sheer boredom and thoughtlessness, these wayward youth go on to smash their empty bottles on the ground where little children play. And then there's our mayor and his municipality workers who do very little, if anything to fix the problem...
I have lived here for almost 6 years and have accepted all these things like most of the other residents do, But NO MORE ACCEPTANCE. It's time to speak up. No more complacency.
The other night, as I was heading home from the supermarket, I saw a large group of teen Hebrew speaking boys smoking, being ultra loud and boisterous and hanging out on the stairs by a park near my home. I walked past them and then decided "Nope, G-d is giving me an opportunity and I'm not gonna miss it".
I walked back to the boys, stopped and wished them a good evening with a big smile on my face. I then proceeded to ask them if they ever indulge in a nice cold beer or a refreshing bottle of vodka in the parks. They rolled their eyeballs at me and one of them said" No, we don't drink at all, it's so bad for us". He laughed and then he rolled his eyes again. I didn't let that stop me. I said" Do you ever see anyone else drink and then break their bottle?" "Ya", said the ringleader. "But I never do that"(he got softer). I said"The reason I'm asking is because my baby fell on a piece of broken glass at the park and had to have major surgery". The Ringleader looked white like a ghost. I said "You boys look like good boys"(they totally LOOKED and ACTED the part of beer-bottle-smashing-teens). "I'm sure you guys are also smart boys and you know not to throw bottles on the ground, especially in a park where children play. But I'm asking you to help me out here. If you see anyone doing that, please remember my baby and tell his story". The Ringleader was silent and looked distraught after I shared our story.
If I positively affected even ONE of those 15 teens to do the right thing, that's a great start.
With Love,
Cigal
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Unbreakable
They want to break us. They want no remnant or reminder of the Jewish people. They steal our children. They shoot them. They bludgeon them to death. They blow up our buses filled with innocent civilians, adults and children alike, they blow themselves up in coffee shops and nightclubs and they break into our homes in the still of the night, leaving blood baths. They celebrate in the streets with each murder they accomplish. Our excruciating agony and pain gives them great joy. But they can't break us, because we are unbreakable.
The entire nation of Israel is made up of one giant heart. A giant heart that celebrates together and that grieves together. For the last 19 days, our nation has gathered together in the most united and beautiful of ways. Prayer groups, bringing in Shabbat early together, rallies to #BringBackOurBoys, making meals for soldiers who were risking their lives around the clock to try to find our stolen boys.
On a daily basis, our small nation is filled with differences of opinion, sometimes very heated ones. But Gil-Ad, Naftali and Eyal made every barrier, every bone of contention and every disagreement practically disappear. For 18 days, our nation stood strong, proud and united with a common goal and a shared mission.
I am sitting here, struggling to catch my breath as the tears roll down my face. My emotions fluctuate between deep anguish and sadness, to anger and rage. The world has become a much darker place ever since it lost our three beautiful boys. But their light will not be extinguished because it is in their merit that the nation of Israel saw such beautiful unity and togetherness.
As a believing woman, I look up into the heavens and cry out to you, Abbaleh, my father in Heaven...Why did this happen? Were our joint prayers not enough? We left divisiveness aside and were a true team...Why didn't you listen to us???
But I have to believe that G-d DID listen to our prayers, and that just as a father would always like to say "yes" to all of his children's requests, sometimes he must say "no" though the child might not understand why. So too our Father in Heaven heard our prayers, and though we don't understand why, His answer was 'no'.
To my devastated brothers and sisters, it is true that we are crushed. And heartbroken. And filled with a wide range of emotions including rage. But let us continue on our beautiful path of love for one another, unity and common mission. We will sob, we will grieve and we will heal because we are unbreakable.
May the holy beautiful souls of Eyal, Naftali and Gil-Ad rise to the highest possible level and may they smile down at their beautiful and unbreakable nation, Am Yisrael.
יהי זכרם ברוך
The entire nation of Israel is made up of one giant heart. A giant heart that celebrates together and that grieves together. For the last 19 days, our nation has gathered together in the most united and beautiful of ways. Prayer groups, bringing in Shabbat early together, rallies to #BringBackOurBoys, making meals for soldiers who were risking their lives around the clock to try to find our stolen boys.
On a daily basis, our small nation is filled with differences of opinion, sometimes very heated ones. But Gil-Ad, Naftali and Eyal made every barrier, every bone of contention and every disagreement practically disappear. For 18 days, our nation stood strong, proud and united with a common goal and a shared mission.
I am sitting here, struggling to catch my breath as the tears roll down my face. My emotions fluctuate between deep anguish and sadness, to anger and rage. The world has become a much darker place ever since it lost our three beautiful boys. But their light will not be extinguished because it is in their merit that the nation of Israel saw such beautiful unity and togetherness.
As a believing woman, I look up into the heavens and cry out to you, Abbaleh, my father in Heaven...Why did this happen? Were our joint prayers not enough? We left divisiveness aside and were a true team...Why didn't you listen to us???
But I have to believe that G-d DID listen to our prayers, and that just as a father would always like to say "yes" to all of his children's requests, sometimes he must say "no" though the child might not understand why. So too our Father in Heaven heard our prayers, and though we don't understand why, His answer was 'no'.
To my devastated brothers and sisters, it is true that we are crushed. And heartbroken. And filled with a wide range of emotions including rage. But let us continue on our beautiful path of love for one another, unity and common mission. We will sob, we will grieve and we will heal because we are unbreakable.
May the holy beautiful souls of Eyal, Naftali and Gil-Ad rise to the highest possible level and may they smile down at their beautiful and unbreakable nation, Am Yisrael.
יהי זכרם ברוך
Saturday, June 14, 2014
One Family
It could have been any one of us. It could have been our next door neighbors' kids. It could have been any of our brothers, cousins, uncles or fathers. It could have been one of our sisters, aunts or mothers. Those evil terrorists want all of us dead and would stop at nothing to make that happen...
People are criticizing the three kids, their parents, and our culture because they were hitchhiking and because they live in "the settlements".On March 11th, 2011,in the settlement of Itamar of the West Bank, five members of the same family were murdered in their beds. The victims were the father Ehud (Udi) Fogel, the mother Ruth Fogel, and three of their six children. They were also criticized for living in the settlements...
The Dolphinarium discotheque suicide bombing was a terrorist attack on June 1, 2001 in which a terrorist linked to Hamas, blew himself up outside a discotheque on a beachfront in Tel Aviv, Israel, killing 21 Israeli teenagers and injuring 132. So those teens should NOT have gone to enjoy an evening out, right?And no Jews should have gone out to enjoy a pizza at The Sbarro restaurant in downtown Jerusalem on 9 August 2001, right?15 civilians were killed, including 7 children and a pregnant woman, and 130 wounded by a terrorist. But it's OUR fault for living and breathing in OUR land.
Those three young yeshiva boys are G-d only knows where and meanwhile, the entire country is terrified, sitting glued by computers, radios and televisions, waiting to hear news of their whereabouts. Yeshivas are saying tehillim, hundreds of people gathered by the Kotel last night to pray together, groups of mothers are gathering together to do the same. Those three boys are OUR boys. Every mother and father in this country can think of nothing else. There's no room for ambivalence or indifference when you live here, because every tragedy is your own just as every happy occasion gives you a reason for pure unadulterated joy.
Since I found out about the kidnapping right before Shabbat, I haven't been able to think about much else. Those three young and innocent boys, their families, the savages who kidnapped them...When I look at my beautiful family, it tears my heart to pieces when I think that there are actually evil subhuman beings out there who would kill them if they had the chance.
We are all one family in this tiny country of ours. When one mother sobs tears of fear, all the rest of us are there, bawling right with her.
I pray from the depths of my soul that our boys come back home soon, healthy and whole.
With Love,
Cigal
People are criticizing the three kids, their parents, and our culture because they were hitchhiking and because they live in "the settlements".On March 11th, 2011,in the settlement of Itamar of the West Bank, five members of the same family were murdered in their beds. The victims were the father Ehud (Udi) Fogel, the mother Ruth Fogel, and three of their six children. They were also criticized for living in the settlements...
The Dolphinarium discotheque suicide bombing was a terrorist attack on June 1, 2001 in which a terrorist linked to Hamas, blew himself up outside a discotheque on a beachfront in Tel Aviv, Israel, killing 21 Israeli teenagers and injuring 132. So those teens should NOT have gone to enjoy an evening out, right?And no Jews should have gone out to enjoy a pizza at The Sbarro restaurant in downtown Jerusalem on 9 August 2001, right?15 civilians were killed, including 7 children and a pregnant woman, and 130 wounded by a terrorist. But it's OUR fault for living and breathing in OUR land.
Those three young yeshiva boys are G-d only knows where and meanwhile, the entire country is terrified, sitting glued by computers, radios and televisions, waiting to hear news of their whereabouts. Yeshivas are saying tehillim, hundreds of people gathered by the Kotel last night to pray together, groups of mothers are gathering together to do the same. Those three boys are OUR boys. Every mother and father in this country can think of nothing else. There's no room for ambivalence or indifference when you live here, because every tragedy is your own just as every happy occasion gives you a reason for pure unadulterated joy.
Since I found out about the kidnapping right before Shabbat, I haven't been able to think about much else. Those three young and innocent boys, their families, the savages who kidnapped them...When I look at my beautiful family, it tears my heart to pieces when I think that there are actually evil subhuman beings out there who would kill them if they had the chance.
We are all one family in this tiny country of ours. When one mother sobs tears of fear, all the rest of us are there, bawling right with her.
I pray from the depths of my soul that our boys come back home soon, healthy and whole.
With Love,
Cigal
Sunday, June 8, 2014
My Badge of Honour
My stomach is my badge of honor with all its bumps, scars and layers. It is a symbol of my strength, my resilience and my courage to get through some very difficult trials and tribulations, as well as the home that nurtured and grew my three beautiful and healthy children.
.
When I was 24 years old, I had a bowel resection for Crohn's Disease.
Years later, I grew a beautiful life in there and was blessed with a precious and healthy baby boy through a natural delivery. When he was only 10 months old, I underwent another surgery for an advanced ectopic pregnancy. Next, another beautiful life grew in there and we were blessed with our precious daughter. Then almost two years ago, we were blessed with another healthy and beautiful baby boy who joined our family via c section. Four pregnancies in less than 3 years...And three major surgeries on my abdomen. A few months after the c section, I discovered that I have a hernia near my naval. It's quite large. Hubby calls it "my peach". The doctors want me to lose the pregnancy belly before doing surgery on the hernia.
I know I can easily pass for pregnant, but I'm not. I've seen some of you park mommies stare down at my belly and wonder. Women have recently made comments like" When are you due?" or "B'sha'a Tova"(all in the right time) or "You get a double portion of cake". To those of you who have made comments, I have made a joke of it. And I know that you meant no harm. But I am strong, resilient and brave. Not every woman would be able to handle these types of comments with the grace and sense of humor that I have. Imagine I had had a bunch of miscarriages/still births and had no live babies at home. Would I want you to comment? Imagine I hadn't told my family yet and you're a stranger or an acquaintance that I see at the park with your kids on occasion? And then imagine I'm not pregnant but struggling to lose weight, be it post pregnancy weight or otherwise? To my friends who observe Torah law, this can be considered Ona'at Dvarim, causing pain with words. Truth is, you don't need to be a Torah Jew to know when to keep your thoughts to yourself.
I happen to feel proud of my stomach, bumps and all. I tell my kids all the time that my stomach was their home for 9 months each and that for that reason alone, it is beautiful.
With Love,
Cigal
.
When I was 24 years old, I had a bowel resection for Crohn's Disease.
Years later, I grew a beautiful life in there and was blessed with a precious and healthy baby boy through a natural delivery. When he was only 10 months old, I underwent another surgery for an advanced ectopic pregnancy. Next, another beautiful life grew in there and we were blessed with our precious daughter. Then almost two years ago, we were blessed with another healthy and beautiful baby boy who joined our family via c section. Four pregnancies in less than 3 years...And three major surgeries on my abdomen. A few months after the c section, I discovered that I have a hernia near my naval. It's quite large. Hubby calls it "my peach". The doctors want me to lose the pregnancy belly before doing surgery on the hernia.
I know I can easily pass for pregnant, but I'm not. I've seen some of you park mommies stare down at my belly and wonder. Women have recently made comments like" When are you due?" or "B'sha'a Tova"(all in the right time) or "You get a double portion of cake". To those of you who have made comments, I have made a joke of it. And I know that you meant no harm. But I am strong, resilient and brave. Not every woman would be able to handle these types of comments with the grace and sense of humor that I have. Imagine I had had a bunch of miscarriages/still births and had no live babies at home. Would I want you to comment? Imagine I hadn't told my family yet and you're a stranger or an acquaintance that I see at the park with your kids on occasion? And then imagine I'm not pregnant but struggling to lose weight, be it post pregnancy weight or otherwise? To my friends who observe Torah law, this can be considered Ona'at Dvarim, causing pain with words. Truth is, you don't need to be a Torah Jew to know when to keep your thoughts to yourself.
I happen to feel proud of my stomach, bumps and all. I tell my kids all the time that my stomach was their home for 9 months each and that for that reason alone, it is beautiful.
With Love,
Cigal
Monday, May 5, 2014
A Letter to Hashem
Dear Hashem,
As you know, today is Memorial Day, Yom HaZikaron, the day we remember our fallen soldiers and our victims of terror. Last night, Hubby and I went to a ceremony where fifth grade boys read letters from fallen soldiers, chapters from Psalms and in their sweet, beautiful and innocent voices, they sang songs about war, loss, pain and grieving families.
As I stood there, silent(it was standing room only), various names kept popping into my head. Eden Atias. Ro'i Klein. Yehoshua Friedberg. Nachshon Waxman. Yoni Netanyahu...Each one of them a whole world on their own merit...Yet there have been 23,169 military casualties, counted from the year 1860. And then there are the victims of terror. Asher & Yonatan Palmer. The Merkaz HaRav Massacre. The Fogels. Koby Mandell & Yosef Ishran. And the list goes on and on. And the tears that our nation cries every year can fill oceans.
As the beautiful young boys were singing, I looked at each one of them and pictured each one of them doing what young boys love to do...Riding their bikes, playing soccer, learning Torah with their fathers, secretly going for hugs from their mothers (when none of their friends can see). And then I thought about my three beautiful children, sleeping peacefully and soundly in their beds, with one of their favorite babysitters right there for them if they needed anything.
Hashem, when Eden, Ro'i, Yehoshua, Nachshon and Yoni put on their Tzahal uniforms every morning, they did so with pride. These young men loved their people and they loved their country, so much so that they were willing to die in order to let us live.
I can't stop crying as I write you this letter, Hashem. These young men in uniform...They were only just boys...
I moved to this beautiful land because I know deep in my heart and in my soul that this is where You want me to be. This is where You wanted me to meet my Hubby and this is where You wanted me to marry him. This is where You want us raise our children. This is the ONLY place in the entire universe that You want me to strengthen my connection to You. The ONLY place in the entire universe where you want my children to learn, grow and build their own lives. And so we are here. And so today I sob with the rest of the country. And today my broken heart aches for all the grieving mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers.And today, I imagine the day that I'll be kissing my own children dressed in uniforms, proud as can be and already counting the days, minutes and seconds until the day they return to my loving embrace.
I recognize that You have given us a jewel BEYOND jewels...A diamond BEYOND diamonds..This tiny, beautiful land of ours. And I really want to do my share in protecting its beauty and its sanctity.I want to make you proud..Hashem, please....I beg You. Keep our people safe. Keep our young boys and young girls free from harm. Haven't we cried enough tears throughout the generations? When will our nation FINALLY merit true Redemption???
With all my love,
Cigal
As you know, today is Memorial Day, Yom HaZikaron, the day we remember our fallen soldiers and our victims of terror. Last night, Hubby and I went to a ceremony where fifth grade boys read letters from fallen soldiers, chapters from Psalms and in their sweet, beautiful and innocent voices, they sang songs about war, loss, pain and grieving families.
As I stood there, silent(it was standing room only), various names kept popping into my head. Eden Atias. Ro'i Klein. Yehoshua Friedberg. Nachshon Waxman. Yoni Netanyahu...Each one of them a whole world on their own merit...Yet there have been 23,169 military casualties, counted from the year 1860. And then there are the victims of terror. Asher & Yonatan Palmer. The Merkaz HaRav Massacre. The Fogels. Koby Mandell & Yosef Ishran. And the list goes on and on. And the tears that our nation cries every year can fill oceans.
As the beautiful young boys were singing, I looked at each one of them and pictured each one of them doing what young boys love to do...Riding their bikes, playing soccer, learning Torah with their fathers, secretly going for hugs from their mothers (when none of their friends can see). And then I thought about my three beautiful children, sleeping peacefully and soundly in their beds, with one of their favorite babysitters right there for them if they needed anything.
Hashem, when Eden, Ro'i, Yehoshua, Nachshon and Yoni put on their Tzahal uniforms every morning, they did so with pride. These young men loved their people and they loved their country, so much so that they were willing to die in order to let us live.
I can't stop crying as I write you this letter, Hashem. These young men in uniform...They were only just boys...
I moved to this beautiful land because I know deep in my heart and in my soul that this is where You want me to be. This is where You wanted me to meet my Hubby and this is where You wanted me to marry him. This is where You want us raise our children. This is the ONLY place in the entire universe that You want me to strengthen my connection to You. The ONLY place in the entire universe where you want my children to learn, grow and build their own lives. And so we are here. And so today I sob with the rest of the country. And today my broken heart aches for all the grieving mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers.And today, I imagine the day that I'll be kissing my own children dressed in uniforms, proud as can be and already counting the days, minutes and seconds until the day they return to my loving embrace.
I recognize that You have given us a jewel BEYOND jewels...A diamond BEYOND diamonds..This tiny, beautiful land of ours. And I really want to do my share in protecting its beauty and its sanctity.I want to make you proud..Hashem, please....I beg You. Keep our people safe. Keep our young boys and young girls free from harm. Haven't we cried enough tears throughout the generations? When will our nation FINALLY merit true Redemption???
With all my love,
Cigal
Monday, April 28, 2014
Hug-A-Child Day (Dedicated to My Father, a Hidden Child of the Holocaust)
Last night, Hubby and I watched the live ceremony of Holocaust Memorial Day at Yad Vashem from the comfort of our couch. As is the case every year, 6 survivors are invited to light a torch in order to commemorate the 6 million who perished during the Holocaust. As I sat there watching and listening to the survivors share their stories, I was struck with so much awe, respect and admiration for these heroes. They are all the epitome of resilience and have literally risen from the ashes.
This morning, I sat at the table with my kids and we ate breakfast, facing the gorgeous forest and quarry that surrounds us here in our town of Beit Shemesh, in the Land of Israel. I smiled as my kids answered "Amen" to my blessings on the food, as well as when I answered in kind to theirs. And I felt THEIR loving presence with us, as I very often do. My three angels. My paternal grandmother, grandfather and uncle, all murdered at the hands of the Nazis. How many millions of families torn apart? How many beautiful and innocent children whose Mommies and Daddies were stolen from them, never to be returned?
After I dropped my older two off at their respective preschools, my baby and I went to visit a friend of mine who just had her second baby, to offer some love, support and strength, and to remind her that she was made for this holy role of Mommy. As we left her apartment, the famous Holocaust Memorial Day siren went off and I found my thoughts to be so very different than they ever were on this very sombre day on the Jewish calendar.
I grew up hearing horror stories from my Dad and his sisters. Dad was only six years old when he was all alone to face the big scary world(his two sisters were together during the war, and Dad and his brother were together until his brother was murdered)...My father was only a year and a half older than my eldest. My uncle was exactly his age. UNFATHOMABLE.
When I was 16, I was the brave trailblazer in my family to walk into Auschwitz first, on the March of the Living. I went to the archives and found my grandparents' transfer cards. And I imagined the hell on earth they experienced until their brutal deaths. Those thoughts have continued to creep into my thoughts at many times over the years. Especially on Holocaust Memorial Day. Every single Holocaust Memorial Day I can remember has been filled with tears, pain and asking WHY?. That is NOT the case today.
Today, I feel strong. Today, I feel resilient. My angels are with me and I feel proud for choosing the life that I have chosen for myself and my family. I am a proud Jewish woman. I keep the Sabbath and the holidays like my grandparents did. I keep the Laws of Family Purity like they did. And I'm doing all that in OUR LAND. The Land that G-d promised to the Jewish People. I KNOW that my holy grandparents are looking down at my family and smiling. I feel a little bit wistful; how much would I love to host them around my Shabbat table and feed them all their favorite delicacies in honor of the Sabbath Queen? But somehow, I feel their spirits with us every Sabbath and every holiday.
And that is my revenge. I have three beautiful angels watching over me, who were murdered for their only crime of being Jewish. I have three beautiful JEWISH children, Thank G-d( BA"H). I will raise them to be G-d Loving/ G-d Fearing Jews. One day, with G-d's help, they too, will have children of their own, and the legacy will continue on and on until eternity.
So to my Holy Jewish Brothers and Sisters, wipe your tears away. We are a nation of Builders. A nation of Survivors. Hitler tried to destroy us, but he couldn't because we are unbreakable. Go out there and hug children today. For they are the future generation of Am Yisrael.
Am Yisrael Chai...Long Live the Nation of Israel!
This morning, I sat at the table with my kids and we ate breakfast, facing the gorgeous forest and quarry that surrounds us here in our town of Beit Shemesh, in the Land of Israel. I smiled as my kids answered "Amen" to my blessings on the food, as well as when I answered in kind to theirs. And I felt THEIR loving presence with us, as I very often do. My three angels. My paternal grandmother, grandfather and uncle, all murdered at the hands of the Nazis. How many millions of families torn apart? How many beautiful and innocent children whose Mommies and Daddies were stolen from them, never to be returned?
After I dropped my older two off at their respective preschools, my baby and I went to visit a friend of mine who just had her second baby, to offer some love, support and strength, and to remind her that she was made for this holy role of Mommy. As we left her apartment, the famous Holocaust Memorial Day siren went off and I found my thoughts to be so very different than they ever were on this very sombre day on the Jewish calendar.
I grew up hearing horror stories from my Dad and his sisters. Dad was only six years old when he was all alone to face the big scary world(his two sisters were together during the war, and Dad and his brother were together until his brother was murdered)...My father was only a year and a half older than my eldest. My uncle was exactly his age. UNFATHOMABLE.
When I was 16, I was the brave trailblazer in my family to walk into Auschwitz first, on the March of the Living. I went to the archives and found my grandparents' transfer cards. And I imagined the hell on earth they experienced until their brutal deaths. Those thoughts have continued to creep into my thoughts at many times over the years. Especially on Holocaust Memorial Day. Every single Holocaust Memorial Day I can remember has been filled with tears, pain and asking WHY?. That is NOT the case today.
Today, I feel strong. Today, I feel resilient. My angels are with me and I feel proud for choosing the life that I have chosen for myself and my family. I am a proud Jewish woman. I keep the Sabbath and the holidays like my grandparents did. I keep the Laws of Family Purity like they did. And I'm doing all that in OUR LAND. The Land that G-d promised to the Jewish People. I KNOW that my holy grandparents are looking down at my family and smiling. I feel a little bit wistful; how much would I love to host them around my Shabbat table and feed them all their favorite delicacies in honor of the Sabbath Queen? But somehow, I feel their spirits with us every Sabbath and every holiday.
And that is my revenge. I have three beautiful angels watching over me, who were murdered for their only crime of being Jewish. I have three beautiful JEWISH children, Thank G-d( BA"H). I will raise them to be G-d Loving/ G-d Fearing Jews. One day, with G-d's help, they too, will have children of their own, and the legacy will continue on and on until eternity.
So to my Holy Jewish Brothers and Sisters, wipe your tears away. We are a nation of Builders. A nation of Survivors. Hitler tried to destroy us, but he couldn't because we are unbreakable. Go out there and hug children today. For they are the future generation of Am Yisrael.
Am Yisrael Chai...Long Live the Nation of Israel!
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