Who am I? - Tribute
I have already posted two "Who am I" posts, and I believe that the time has come for a third. In Pirkei Avos we are taught, "Da Mai'ayin Baasa" know from where you come.
This is meant as mussar, but I am taking it in a different vain. To know who someone is, one of the most telling things is to know where that person comes from.
It's a b'fairushe Lion King, when Rafiki looks at Simba and says, "I know who you are." He doesn't say you are Simba. His next line is "You Mufasa boy".
Over the last few years I have truly come to realize that I come from incredible "stock". I don't know what I did in a previous life, but I must have done something right to be blessed with two such unbelievable parents as I was. Each very different, but each unbelievably special in their own way. Both were Holocaust survivors, although taking VERY different paths to get through it and get here.
I was not the first child born in the family, and there is a gap between me and my older siblings. I guess I lucked out, I have the advantage of allowing my parents a few more years to settle into their own and discover themselves as individuals and parents before I came along. My siblings and I often joke about the fact that we had two sets of parents. Mine being the older, further removed from the horrors and guilt of surviving the Holocaust, and consequently more laid back and tolerant ones. I also had the privilege of being alone in the house much of the time growing up which allowed me private time to study my parents and glean from each of their incredible traits. It's amazing because as a child I remember my father working very hard and not being around much, yet he definitely managed to make his mark.
My father was always a man of action, never one to sit still. If something needed to be done, he was always the man. I believe this is a major difference between our generation and theirs. We sit around trying to figure out how to do something, they just DID it. Whereas most people today don't do anything without fanfare, many of his actions remain unknown until this day other than to him and the person for whom he did it. Many of his actions my mother never even knew about. Not because he hid them from her, but because he didn't see these things as something to talk about. To him they were no big deal.
He was always one of the friendliest men in shul and in the community. So many people have told me that when they first moved to the community, he was the first (if not, only) person, to go over and greet them, no matter what the age difference was. How often do I remember from my childhood, my father just bringing someone home from shul, and my mother adding an extra setting in such a way that the uninvited guest didn't notice and it seemed as if there had been a place for him/her before he even arrived. As if they had been expected after all.
Due to the interruption of the war, his torah education was somewhat stunted, but he maintained a respect for torah and rabbanim and encouraged us to get a profession, but learn as well. He set very high standards for us, but he did it in a loving way so that I was eager to please, not anxious to rebel. It was always abundantly clear that there is NOTHING that he wouldn't do for us.
Everything that was done, was done with a cheshbon. We don't always know what that cheshbon is, but he does, and it seems to be working.
My mother was the akeres habayis. She did things in a much quieter way, but her actions still spoke louder than words. It amazed me that she never appeared to have (m)any close friends, yet when any woman in the neighborhood needed advice, it was my mother that they called.
She was always a very humble woman, always believing the best in anybody. She was always dan l'kaf zchus to unimaginable degrees. For herself however she demanded no kavod. It always blew me away how once I was married, when I would go over or call her to wish her a good year and ask mechila, before I managed to get the words out, SHE would ask ME for mechila.
Believe me, I could probably continue writing for days and compile pages and pages, but Yom Tov is rapidly approaching and it's just about time to end this blog.
I just hope I gave you a sneak peek into who AFI is and where he came from.
Good Yom Tov!
This is meant as mussar, but I am taking it in a different vain. To know who someone is, one of the most telling things is to know where that person comes from.
It's a b'fairushe Lion King, when Rafiki looks at Simba and says, "I know who you are." He doesn't say you are Simba. His next line is "You Mufasa boy".
Over the last few years I have truly come to realize that I come from incredible "stock". I don't know what I did in a previous life, but I must have done something right to be blessed with two such unbelievable parents as I was. Each very different, but each unbelievably special in their own way. Both were Holocaust survivors, although taking VERY different paths to get through it and get here.
I was not the first child born in the family, and there is a gap between me and my older siblings. I guess I lucked out, I have the advantage of allowing my parents a few more years to settle into their own and discover themselves as individuals and parents before I came along. My siblings and I often joke about the fact that we had two sets of parents. Mine being the older, further removed from the horrors and guilt of surviving the Holocaust, and consequently more laid back and tolerant ones. I also had the privilege of being alone in the house much of the time growing up which allowed me private time to study my parents and glean from each of their incredible traits. It's amazing because as a child I remember my father working very hard and not being around much, yet he definitely managed to make his mark.
My father was always a man of action, never one to sit still. If something needed to be done, he was always the man. I believe this is a major difference between our generation and theirs. We sit around trying to figure out how to do something, they just DID it. Whereas most people today don't do anything without fanfare, many of his actions remain unknown until this day other than to him and the person for whom he did it. Many of his actions my mother never even knew about. Not because he hid them from her, but because he didn't see these things as something to talk about. To him they were no big deal.
He was always one of the friendliest men in shul and in the community. So many people have told me that when they first moved to the community, he was the first (if not, only) person, to go over and greet them, no matter what the age difference was. How often do I remember from my childhood, my father just bringing someone home from shul, and my mother adding an extra setting in such a way that the uninvited guest didn't notice and it seemed as if there had been a place for him/her before he even arrived. As if they had been expected after all.
Due to the interruption of the war, his torah education was somewhat stunted, but he maintained a respect for torah and rabbanim and encouraged us to get a profession, but learn as well. He set very high standards for us, but he did it in a loving way so that I was eager to please, not anxious to rebel. It was always abundantly clear that there is NOTHING that he wouldn't do for us.
Everything that was done, was done with a cheshbon. We don't always know what that cheshbon is, but he does, and it seems to be working.
My mother was the akeres habayis. She did things in a much quieter way, but her actions still spoke louder than words. It amazed me that she never appeared to have (m)any close friends, yet when any woman in the neighborhood needed advice, it was my mother that they called.
She was always a very humble woman, always believing the best in anybody. She was always dan l'kaf zchus to unimaginable degrees. For herself however she demanded no kavod. It always blew me away how once I was married, when I would go over or call her to wish her a good year and ask mechila, before I managed to get the words out, SHE would ask ME for mechila.
Believe me, I could probably continue writing for days and compile pages and pages, but Yom Tov is rapidly approaching and it's just about time to end this blog.
I just hope I gave you a sneak peek into who AFI is and where he came from.
Good Yom Tov!
posted by A Frum Idealist | 10/13/2006 12:11:00 PM
2 Comments:
Thanks for the insight. For some, learning to appreciate our parents takes a lifetime.
"We sit around trying to figure out how to do something, they just DID it" -Great line.
That was a great peek, now could you give us a bigger peek into your life lol.
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