Ashreinu! Mah tov chelkeinu u’mah na’im goraleinu u’mah yafah yerushateinu.
How fortunate are we! How good is our portion, how pleasant our lot, and how beautiful our heritage.
These words, found in the traditional morning service and in our Gates of Repentance for High Holy Days, have been running through my head for a few weeks. I sang the particular setting* by Bonia Shur, z’l, during my Year in Israel for the High Holy Days. The masterful melody is at once meditative and majestic, encompassing the everyday-ness of the “lot” we handle daily and the expansiveness of our “heritage”. We are meant to be grateful both deeply and broadly each and every day.
My older child will be a kindergartner in a few short months. This morning she asked, “Do I really still have to lie on my mat during nap time? It’s soooooo boring,” sounding more like a teenager than a five-year-old. “Sweetheart, there are no naps in kindergarten. You only need to keep this rest time for a few more weeks, and then preschool will be over for you.”
Preschool will be over for her. Suddenly, we will be the parents of an elementary school student and will morph into those parents I’ve seen at the Charlotte Jewish Preschool all of these years: parents who are dropping off just one older preschooler – these mysterious parents of older children. No babies. No toddlers. No strollers. No wrangling two kids and all of their stuff into the building each morning. Just one, pretty big kid walking calmly (usually) to preschool.
I remember when I would hide around a corner when her little class of 1-year-olds would walk through the building while I was working. What if she sees me? Then she will cry and be so sad! Better to stay out of sight.
No more a shy and clingy toddler – she cares deeply for her friends and teachers; she loves to dance and longs for the limelight.
I remember when she learned to count and to spell her name. They happened right alongside sleepless nights and tantrums and defiance. All of these things, I know now, are a part of her doing what she is destined to do – to be her own person, created in God’s image, with a path and a dream and an entire world of her own.
This morning in a matter of minutes, I read three social media posts, Jewish in nature, that talk about something as “bittersweet.” There seems to be something about Passover that brings out this special melancholy in the Jewish zeitgeist – a sense of possibility for what lies ahead commingled with a longing to hold fast to what is so fleeting.
This privilege is not lost on me. Our special seasons are the vantage points we need as human beings to express our deepest gratitude. Holidays, when we change status – moving from one stage to the next, from one job or house or relationship – we are given the opportunity to breathe in the sense of wonder for what we have and the sense of what might be right around the corner.
Ashreinu! How fortunate are we!
*If you’d like to hear this setting of the text, our TBE Women’s Ensemble will sing it at Sisterhood Shabbat on May 13th at 6pm.
