The Short Vort by Rabbi Eisenman

Leah was very nervous about the upcoming Pesach.

It had been years since she had moved from Yerushalayim to New Jersey, and much had transpired.

She had grown up in Chareidi Yersushalayim yet had to find her path in Yiddishkeit.

After a difficult marriage, she found Aharon, who, like Leah, sought to rebuild.

Leah sent her youngest daughter Ayalah to public school, hoping she would find tolerance and acceptance in their adopted host country.

Yet, her expectancy soon turned to despair.

Leah and Ayalah soon realized their dreams of becoming part of the American tapestry were dashed, and they were quickly met with the reality of intolerance and disapproval, leaving them crestfallen and dispirited.

Yet, as Jews have done for generations, Leah and Aharon began their trek back to their birthright and found their way back to Shul.

Eventually, the youngest daughter, Ayalah, would catalyze the family’s reconnecting to Yiddishkeit as she was soon enrolled in a local Yeshiva.

Leah Aharon and Ayalah would establish a true Torah home.

When Pesach approached, Leah decided it was time for the family to reconnect.

She had left her two oldest children, a young man and a post-IDF daughter, in Israel.

Leah invited them to her home in Passaic to experience Pesach and allow them to see the beautiful and warm home Leah and Aharon built up close.

Leah was quite concerned about her older children’s reaction to the new rules and regulations the observance of Pesach would require in their new Torah observant home.

Would her children understand all the necessities in keeping the house Chometz free?

And what about Kitniyos?

As her children had been living in a secular Israeli society where even many “traditional” Ashkenazim have adopted the Sephardic practice of consuming Kitniyos, would her children balk at this new stringency?

Leah called me many times to ask numerous questions regarding Kashrus and the observance of the second day of Yom Tov for Israelis.

Yet, most of all, she was concerned about how would her children, with their secular Israeli outlook, fit into her newly Torah-observant home?

Would they rebel?

Would the Seder go too long?

Her questions reflected her desire for the family to bond and her passion for the children to enjoy and revel in the beauty of the Yom Tov.

I did my best to reassure Leah that the most important task ahead of her was making her children feel wanted, loved, and accepted.

If she succeeded in displaying the love and warmth of a Jewish observant home, everything else would fall into place.

Despite my outward signs of confidence, I was pleasantly surprised when Leah described the wonderful, warm, and joyous Pesach the family shared.

Leah contacted me excitedly after Pesach to tell me breathlessly how wonderful the Yom Tov was.

Leah informed me that the Sedarim were more beautiful than she could have imagined.

The family recalled old melodies from their grandparents, and the night blissfully dissolved into the morning as the family celebrated and bonded.

There were only tears and wishes that time would stand still as Leah’s son and adult daughter left for the airport to return to Israel.

Yet, time did stand still, and the memories and feelings of the love and the bonding remained strong.

Yael, Leah’s daughter, soon informed her mother that she had brought back the warmth, beauty, and restful spirit of Shabbos to her home in secular Tel Aviv.

She had decided to commit herself as best she could to embrace the restfulness of Shabbos.

Leah was overjoyed and was proud of her daughter’s resilience and commitment to Shabbos, which came about through the memorable Pesach experience.

Leah told me about her daughter’s re-embracing of Shabbos, which was precipitated through the show of love and family togetherness at the Pesach Seder.

Yet, neither of us could have imagined the far-reaching impact of that love.

Leah’s daughter Yael contacted her on Monday, October 9, the day after the worst pogram since the Holocaust.

She told her mother what had happened.

She also sent her mother screenshots from the days preceding the horrific massacre.

Leah sent me the screenshot her daughter forwarded her.

It displayed a text message, complete with a flyer, inviting Yael to a music festival in the Negev on October 7.

The screenshot also displayed Yael’s response.

“Wow, looks’ great; if it wasn’t Shabbat I’d be there!”

Leah never attended the music festival,

She stayed home in Tel Aviv and observed Shabbos alone and quietly.

On Tuesday, she attended the levaya of her friend, who invited her to the music festival.

The love and bonding of a family continued to connect and protect in ways beyond our limited understanding of the mysteries of this world.