Where We Come From

Avremel sent us a cd with maoz tzur.

The one that my zeidy a'h used to sing.


Mother is not in the kitchen when father pops it into the handy dandy under-the-counter cd player in the kitchen.


I listen with half an ear as I am busy typing about hakuna matata and ain od milvado...


"Nice harmony...interesting...hmmm...i wonder who's in the choir...woah creative...yivunim, yivunim nigbitzee oolai...beautiful."


The song ends.



~~~


Mother walks into the kitchen.

Walks over to the player and presses play.




The song begins.




Suddenly her entire body straightens in concentration.


Breathing changes.

Tears well up.



I can't even imagine what the song evokes...



For her the harmonies don't matter.

Or the choir.



There's a whole world in this song.

A flood of memories.

A different place.

With holy souls and generations past.


~~~



We should be zocheh to sing maoz tzur with all of our zeidehs with moshiach in yerushalayim ir hakodesh tonight!