This was written by Blimie Israel. She gave my permission to share it with you.
A man decided it is high time he teach his young son how to play bow and arrow. He takes the young boy to a large forest where a dartboard was nailed on a huge oak tree. Setting the boy down on a trunk, the father picks up his well worn bow and arrow. With practiced hands, he gently pulls back the string.
"Father!" the child cried, "That will hurt you! Don't do that! This game is not meant to be played like that!".
The father gently placed the set on the ground and put his arms around his dear son. "My beloved child, quite the contrary. In this game the string is meant to be pulled back. The strength and power when you release the string will push the arrow with such strength, hitting the target with exact precision. My son, I have been around longer than you. My practiced hands have sent forth millions of arrows, each one hitting its mark. Trust me. Allow me to teach you".
Many times in life, we are tested with challenges. With sufferings. With pain. Oh how we cry out to Hashem! "Hashem, it hurts!!!! Don't do this to me! Life is not meant to be this way!!" and Hashem through his presence, comforts us, soothing our pain and tells his beloved children "My children, just the opposite. Life down here is not meant to be comfortable. The pain, the anguish you experience is for a reason. The force of such pain, the tears, the broken heart, the challenges we don't understand..all combined with such force, will capitulate you to soar to great heights. Yes, it might seem like you are being pulled back, dragged down but it is those struggles who will shape you to become the greatest you can possibly be".
It is time to let go and let God.
Showing posts with label Father. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Father. Show all posts
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Baby Talk
I wrote this last year and wanted to share the message with you again.
"Aah-pi-dee coo-key"
I'm walking back from the bus stop with my baby and my neighbor.
"He wants me to open his bag of cookies...isn't that cute?"
"I would have no clue what he was talking about!" she says.
And I'm reminded about something I heard a while back about tefillah and the way we daven.
When a little baby or toddler who is just learning how to talk starts to communicate in his own language, only his own parents can truly understand the things he is saying. He is not using real words yet, just a combination of sounds...but every sound has real meaning...to him. And his mother and father know exactly what he means to say with each sound that comes out of his mouth.
But a stranger wouldn't understand at all.
When we daven, there are times when we mumble the words, don't pronounce them correctly...and just rush through our tefillos. We can't always say the words the way they were meant to be said, with the proper pronunciation and concentration.
After all, we are human beings.
But Hashem is our Father. And He understands the thoughts and feelings behind the words we say. He understand what we really mean to say, even if sometimes we're talking in baby talk.
He knows we really want to praise Him. He knows that we really mean to ask him for health, parnassah, refuos and yeshuos. He knows that when we go through shemona esrei and we don't really think about the meaning of every single word, we really do want to. We want to do it right.
But sometimes we stumble.
Sometimes we mumble.
Sometimes we don't think into the meaning of the things we are saying and asking for.
And He understands our baby talk.
But...does that mean we should stay that way? Just because He understands, should we talk like little kids?
Of course not.
Let's try.
Let's grow up.
Let's work on our concentration.
On our pronunciation.
On saying our brachos and tefillos the way they were meant to be said.
Because even though Hashem understands that we mean a lot more than "baruchata...borei minaymezonos..." or "selachlanu...mechalanu", we might as well put in the effort and talk big...like adults...like a professional businessman. Like someone who knows his stuff.
Hashem is always listening. He understands our innermost thoughts and feelings...even when we can't express them in words.
But when it's time to daven, when it's time to say our brachos, when it's time to bench, to ask Hashem for things we need and thank Him for the things He gives us, let's try to do it right.
Enough with the baby talk. It's cute...but at some point we need to grow up.
I open the bag of cookies for my baby and he spills most of it on the floor. But I understand. He's just a baby. He asks for things and he can't even enjoy all of it. But I'm his mother...and so I give.
Hashem knows us so much better. He knows what is good for us, what we need...and what we want...and when the time is right for us to get it. He is our Father...and He gives us...so much good.
May you be able to express yourself properly with the words of your tefillos and brachos...and mature in your tefillos from baby talk to big-girl talk!
"Aah-pi-dee coo-key"
I'm walking back from the bus stop with my baby and my neighbor.
"He wants me to open his bag of cookies...isn't that cute?"
"I would have no clue what he was talking about!" she says.
And I'm reminded about something I heard a while back about tefillah and the way we daven.
When a little baby or toddler who is just learning how to talk starts to communicate in his own language, only his own parents can truly understand the things he is saying. He is not using real words yet, just a combination of sounds...but every sound has real meaning...to him. And his mother and father know exactly what he means to say with each sound that comes out of his mouth.
But a stranger wouldn't understand at all.
When we daven, there are times when we mumble the words, don't pronounce them correctly...and just rush through our tefillos. We can't always say the words the way they were meant to be said, with the proper pronunciation and concentration.
After all, we are human beings.
But Hashem is our Father. And He understands the thoughts and feelings behind the words we say. He understand what we really mean to say, even if sometimes we're talking in baby talk.
He knows we really want to praise Him. He knows that we really mean to ask him for health, parnassah, refuos and yeshuos. He knows that when we go through shemona esrei and we don't really think about the meaning of every single word, we really do want to. We want to do it right.
But sometimes we stumble.
Sometimes we mumble.
Sometimes we don't think into the meaning of the things we are saying and asking for.
And He understands our baby talk.
But...does that mean we should stay that way? Just because He understands, should we talk like little kids?
Of course not.
Let's try.
Let's grow up.
Let's work on our concentration.
On our pronunciation.
On saying our brachos and tefillos the way they were meant to be said.
Because even though Hashem understands that we mean a lot more than "baruchata...borei minaymezonos..." or "selachlanu...mechalanu", we might as well put in the effort and talk big...like adults...like a professional businessman. Like someone who knows his stuff.
Hashem is always listening. He understands our innermost thoughts and feelings...even when we can't express them in words.
But when it's time to daven, when it's time to say our brachos, when it's time to bench, to ask Hashem for things we need and thank Him for the things He gives us, let's try to do it right.
Enough with the baby talk. It's cute...but at some point we need to grow up.
I open the bag of cookies for my baby and he spills most of it on the floor. But I understand. He's just a baby. He asks for things and he can't even enjoy all of it. But I'm his mother...and so I give.
Hashem knows us so much better. He knows what is good for us, what we need...and what we want...and when the time is right for us to get it. He is our Father...and He gives us...so much good.
May you be able to express yourself properly with the words of your tefillos and brachos...and mature in your tefillos from baby talk to big-girl talk!
Labels:
Baby,
Concentration,
Daven,
Father,
Tefillah,
Understand,
Word
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Baby Talk
"Aah-pi-dee coo-key"
I'm walking back from the bus stop with my baby and my neighbor.
"He wants me to open his bag of cookies...isn't that cute?"
"I would have no clue what he was talking about!" she says.
And I'm reminded about something I heard a while back about tefillah and the way we daven.
When a little baby or toddler who is just learning how to talk starts to communicate in his own language, only his own parents can truly understand the things he is saying. He is not using real words yet, just a combination of sounds...but every sound has real meaning...to him. And his mother and father know exactly what he means to say with each sound that comes out of his mouth.
But a stranger wouldn't understand at all.
When we daven, there are times when we mumble the words, don't pronounce them correctly...and just rush through our tefillos. We can't always say the words the way they were meant to be said, with the proper pronunciation and concentration.
After all, we are human beings.
But Hashem is our Father. And He understands the thoughts and feelings behind the words we say. He understand what we really mean to say, even if sometimes we're talking in baby talk.
He knows we really want to praise Him. He knows that we really mean to ask him for health, parnassah, refuos and yeshuos. He knows that when we go through shemona esrei and we don't really think about the meaning of every single word, we really do want to. We want to do it right.
But sometimes we stumble.
Sometimes we mumble.
Sometimes we don't think into the meaning of the things we are saying and asking for.
And He understands our baby talk.
But...does that mean we should stay that way? Just because He understands, should we talk like little kids?
Of course not.
Let's try.
Let's grow up.
Let's work on our concentration.
On our pronunciation.
On saying our brachos and tefillos the way they were meant to be said.
Because even though Hashem understands that we mean a lot more than "baruchata...borei minaymezonos..." or "selachlanu...mechalanu", we might as well put in the effort and talk big...like adults...like a professional businessman. Like someone who knows his stuff.
Hashem is always listening. He understands our innermost thoughts and feelings...even when we can't express them in words.
But when it's time to daven, when it's time to say our brachos, when it's time to bench, to ask Hashem for things we need and thank Him for the things He gives us, let's try to do it right.
Enough with the baby talk. It's cute...but at some point we need to grow up.
I open the bag of cookies for my baby and he spills most of it on the floor. But I understand. He's just a baby. He asks for things and he can't even enjoy all of it. But I'm his mother...and so I give.
Hashem knows us so much better. He knows what is good for us, what we need...and what we want...and when the time is right for us to get it. He is our Father...and He gives us...so much good.
May you be able to express yourself properly with the words of your tefillos and brachos...and mature in your tefillos from baby talk to big-girl talk!
I'm walking back from the bus stop with my baby and my neighbor.
"He wants me to open his bag of cookies...isn't that cute?"
"I would have no clue what he was talking about!" she says.
And I'm reminded about something I heard a while back about tefillah and the way we daven.
When a little baby or toddler who is just learning how to talk starts to communicate in his own language, only his own parents can truly understand the things he is saying. He is not using real words yet, just a combination of sounds...but every sound has real meaning...to him. And his mother and father know exactly what he means to say with each sound that comes out of his mouth.
But a stranger wouldn't understand at all.
When we daven, there are times when we mumble the words, don't pronounce them correctly...and just rush through our tefillos. We can't always say the words the way they were meant to be said, with the proper pronunciation and concentration.
After all, we are human beings.
But Hashem is our Father. And He understands the thoughts and feelings behind the words we say. He understand what we really mean to say, even if sometimes we're talking in baby talk.
He knows we really want to praise Him. He knows that we really mean to ask him for health, parnassah, refuos and yeshuos. He knows that when we go through shemona esrei and we don't really think about the meaning of every single word, we really do want to. We want to do it right.
But sometimes we stumble.
Sometimes we mumble.
Sometimes we don't think into the meaning of the things we are saying and asking for.
And He understands our baby talk.
But...does that mean we should stay that way? Just because He understands, should we talk like little kids?
Of course not.
Let's try.
Let's grow up.
Let's work on our concentration.
On our pronunciation.
On saying our brachos and tefillos the way they were meant to be said.
Because even though Hashem understands that we mean a lot more than "baruchata...borei minaymezonos..." or "selachlanu...mechalanu", we might as well put in the effort and talk big...like adults...like a professional businessman. Like someone who knows his stuff.
Hashem is always listening. He understands our innermost thoughts and feelings...even when we can't express them in words.
But when it's time to daven, when it's time to say our brachos, when it's time to bench, to ask Hashem for things we need and thank Him for the things He gives us, let's try to do it right.
Enough with the baby talk. It's cute...but at some point we need to grow up.
I open the bag of cookies for my baby and he spills most of it on the floor. But I understand. He's just a baby. He asks for things and he can't even enjoy all of it. But I'm his mother...and so I give.
Hashem knows us so much better. He knows what is good for us, what we need...and what we want...and when the time is right for us to get it. He is our Father...and He gives us...so much good.
May you be able to express yourself properly with the words of your tefillos and brachos...and mature in your tefillos from baby talk to big-girl talk!
Labels:
Baby,
Concentration,
Daven,
Father,
Tefillah,
Understand,
Word
Monday, August 5, 2013
Park Musings
I'm in the park with my baby. I watch a whole group of girls entering the park excitedly, together with their counselor. They walk together, as one unit, in close-knit groups of friends having fun together.
And I think.
I think about these girls...as individuals. Each one of them is precious to their parents. Each one comes from her own home with parents who worry about them as they hope for them to have a good day, to have good friends, to just be happy.
Yes, these girls look like one group of happy day-campers, having fun and playing together. But there is so much more behind each face. Siblings who love them (hopefully), parents who care for them, grandparents who enjoy them and shep nachas when they see them...a whole separate family unit, away from the group of girls they spend most of their days with.
There's a girl running through the sprinkler, having a great time, getting soaking wet.
There's another girl who trips and falls down, but her counselor gets her back up again without even giving her a chance to cry. She joins the rest of the group and forgets about her fall within seconds.
She's just a counselor, I think.
How would her mother react?
Her mother's heart would skip a beat when she'd see her child fall. She'd quickly embrace her, calm her down, comfort her and then let her run off again to play...with a warning to be more careful next time.
Parents love each child...each one as an individual.
It doesn't matter how many other cute, pretty or smart girls there are in her bunk.
Each child belongs to her mother. To her father. To her parents. To parents who love them with their whole heart, who would do anything for their children.
Even if a parent has more than one child, they worry and care about each one separately, independent of their other children. Each child, with his/her character, personality and makeup has different needs...and every parent wants to do their utmost to take care of them and make sure those needs are met.
We are all children of Hashem.
Hashem loves each of us as an individual.
We are like an only child to Him.
Yes, there are so many other "children" playing in the park of life, running through sprinklers, getting wet, having fun, tripping and falling and needing help getting back up.
That's the greatness of Hashem.
He is not like a human being who is limited by time and space, who cannot do more than one (or two or three for the really talented multi taskers out there!) thing(s) at a time.
Hashem, like a loving, caring father, looks out for each of us at all times.
Tomorrow is Rosh Chodesh Elul. Elul is an acronym for ani ledodi vedodi li. It is a time for us to come closer to Hashem, closer to our loving Father, look inside ourselves and around us and think about the things we want to change.
Our relationship with Him.
If you moved away from your parent and during that time your relationship got somewhat strained and then you found out that your parent was moving back...to your city...to your town...down the street from you...wouldn't you want to work on fixing your relationship? Wouldn't you want to become close once again?
Well, now's the chance.
Hashem is moving back. He's moving in. He's coming back to you. To your neighborhood...
He will enter your heart.
All you have to do is let Him in.
Try to rid yourself of things that distract you from Him. Try to connect to Him once again...with your siddur, with your tehillim, with your own words...with His Torah.
Take out a book, a Jewish book, an inspiring book, a book that talks about growth...and try to reconnect.
Your Loving Father is waiting for you.
Don't wait.
As the month of Av, which stands for Elul Ba, comes to a close, and we welcome in the month of Elul, do what it takes to achieve that closeness and connection your heart is yearning for.
Hashem will welcome you with open arms. You just have to take the first step towards Him.
Pischu Li Pesach...you open the opening the size of the head of a needle...V'ani eftach lachem...and I [Hashem] will open for you...the size of a ballroom.
May you be able to utilize the time you have during the coming month to take positive steps towards change and growth. May you be able to move slowly, one baby step at a time...so those changes last. And may you be able to look back at the end of this month and be proud of yourself and what you accomplished!
And I think.
I think about these girls...as individuals. Each one of them is precious to their parents. Each one comes from her own home with parents who worry about them as they hope for them to have a good day, to have good friends, to just be happy.
Yes, these girls look like one group of happy day-campers, having fun and playing together. But there is so much more behind each face. Siblings who love them (hopefully), parents who care for them, grandparents who enjoy them and shep nachas when they see them...a whole separate family unit, away from the group of girls they spend most of their days with.
There's a girl running through the sprinkler, having a great time, getting soaking wet.
There's another girl who trips and falls down, but her counselor gets her back up again without even giving her a chance to cry. She joins the rest of the group and forgets about her fall within seconds.
She's just a counselor, I think.
How would her mother react?
Her mother's heart would skip a beat when she'd see her child fall. She'd quickly embrace her, calm her down, comfort her and then let her run off again to play...with a warning to be more careful next time.
Parents love each child...each one as an individual.
It doesn't matter how many other cute, pretty or smart girls there are in her bunk.
Each child belongs to her mother. To her father. To her parents. To parents who love them with their whole heart, who would do anything for their children.
Even if a parent has more than one child, they worry and care about each one separately, independent of their other children. Each child, with his/her character, personality and makeup has different needs...and every parent wants to do their utmost to take care of them and make sure those needs are met.
We are all children of Hashem.
Hashem loves each of us as an individual.
We are like an only child to Him.
Yes, there are so many other "children" playing in the park of life, running through sprinklers, getting wet, having fun, tripping and falling and needing help getting back up.
That's the greatness of Hashem.
He is not like a human being who is limited by time and space, who cannot do more than one (or two or three for the really talented multi taskers out there!) thing(s) at a time.
Hashem, like a loving, caring father, looks out for each of us at all times.
Tomorrow is Rosh Chodesh Elul. Elul is an acronym for ani ledodi vedodi li. It is a time for us to come closer to Hashem, closer to our loving Father, look inside ourselves and around us and think about the things we want to change.
Our relationship with Him.
If you moved away from your parent and during that time your relationship got somewhat strained and then you found out that your parent was moving back...to your city...to your town...down the street from you...wouldn't you want to work on fixing your relationship? Wouldn't you want to become close once again?
Well, now's the chance.
Hashem is moving back. He's moving in. He's coming back to you. To your neighborhood...
He will enter your heart.
All you have to do is let Him in.
Try to rid yourself of things that distract you from Him. Try to connect to Him once again...with your siddur, with your tehillim, with your own words...with His Torah.
Take out a book, a Jewish book, an inspiring book, a book that talks about growth...and try to reconnect.
Your Loving Father is waiting for you.
Don't wait.
As the month of Av, which stands for Elul Ba, comes to a close, and we welcome in the month of Elul, do what it takes to achieve that closeness and connection your heart is yearning for.
Hashem will welcome you with open arms. You just have to take the first step towards Him.
Pischu Li Pesach...you open the opening the size of the head of a needle...V'ani eftach lachem...and I [Hashem] will open for you...the size of a ballroom.
May you be able to utilize the time you have during the coming month to take positive steps towards change and growth. May you be able to move slowly, one baby step at a time...so those changes last. And may you be able to look back at the end of this month and be proud of yourself and what you accomplished!
Sunday, May 26, 2013
A Different Connection
There is something I once heard about our relationship with Hashem that I would like to share with you.
Sometimes, when going through the tests that come along with real life, we start to question and challenge things that may have been part of the foundations of our emunah. It's not such a great feeling...to know that we have these doubts. And it makes us feel distant when we have the big WHY in our head.
Why is this happening?
Hashem...why are you doing this to me? This is too hard.
A person can start to feel like they are disconnected from Hashem. Like asking and questioning is sure proof of how far they have gone.
What happened to the good Bais Yaakov girl they once were? What happened to the idealism? What happened to the hashkafos that were so ingrained in them?
They used to accept everything they heard at any speech, class or lecture without challenging any of it. They used to drink in spirituality whenever they read or heard anything inspiring.
Suddenly, it's not so easy anymore. Suddenly, they aren't so sure that things are the way people say they are. Who says anything is so true? How does anyone really know the reasons and the answers?
So they begin to ask...why questions, questions of uncertainty, questions that search for clarity. Sometimes they verbalize them-when there is someone to ask, and other times they keep them inside, because those questions seem like...too much. But they are there-the skepticism, the doubts, the confusion.
Is this all a clear sign of how far they strayed from Him?
In truth, all of this shows just how deeply they were hurt by, but at the same time connected to, Hashem. Those questions come from a burning desire for closeness, understanding and clarity. They ask because really, what they want is an end to the difficulties...for things to be somewhat easier...and they want to understand, they want to be close, even while going through such strong and difficult tests.
Many of us think of a relationship with Hashem in positive terms, like noticing Hashem in the good things, appreciating Him and asking Him for things when we need. But there's a different connection, a bond just as real and as close, in the complaining and asking why.
Why is that so?
When a person turns TO Hashem when they're upset...or just plain frustrated...and they don't turn away from Him, it shows they still have that kesher. They KNOW the difficulties they are experiencing are from Him and they're annoyed at Him, almost as if they're saying, How could you do this to me? How could you pile this on-on top of everything else I'm dealing with?? Since the person continues to acknowledge and talk to Him, with the awareness that it all comes from Hashem, it shows that they are still so very close.
This can be compared to someone who comes to their father/mother when they are fuming mad at him/her for doing something to them-knowing that it came directly from their parent. The child does not cut off ties with them because of what was done, no matter how upset he is. The child is still talking to their father or mother. The two of them still have that connection...and it's a very strong one. This bond is so powerful and it will keep them close even when they are angry or hurt.
When a person reaches inside themselves when they are experiencing real challenges, when they start to question everything they hear, they may feel distant. But really, this is an expression of the pain they're in, of the depth of the soul connection they have with the One Above, albeit not a connection one would use to describe closeness. But honestly, it IS a connection of closeness, of yearning, of desire...and yes, of love. Love amidst anger and pain but love nonetheless.
There are different stages of our relationship with Hashem. Sometimes it is positive and easy and other times it is tough-but one must remember that at all points, that connection is never severed. The bond is there, always.
May you be able to always feel close to Hashem...no matter what kind of connection you have.
Sometimes, when going through the tests that come along with real life, we start to question and challenge things that may have been part of the foundations of our emunah. It's not such a great feeling...to know that we have these doubts. And it makes us feel distant when we have the big WHY in our head.
Why is this happening?
Hashem...why are you doing this to me? This is too hard.
A person can start to feel like they are disconnected from Hashem. Like asking and questioning is sure proof of how far they have gone.
What happened to the good Bais Yaakov girl they once were? What happened to the idealism? What happened to the hashkafos that were so ingrained in them?
They used to accept everything they heard at any speech, class or lecture without challenging any of it. They used to drink in spirituality whenever they read or heard anything inspiring.
Suddenly, it's not so easy anymore. Suddenly, they aren't so sure that things are the way people say they are. Who says anything is so true? How does anyone really know the reasons and the answers?
So they begin to ask...why questions, questions of uncertainty, questions that search for clarity. Sometimes they verbalize them-when there is someone to ask, and other times they keep them inside, because those questions seem like...too much. But they are there-the skepticism, the doubts, the confusion.
Is this all a clear sign of how far they strayed from Him?
In truth, all of this shows just how deeply they were hurt by, but at the same time connected to, Hashem. Those questions come from a burning desire for closeness, understanding and clarity. They ask because really, what they want is an end to the difficulties...for things to be somewhat easier...and they want to understand, they want to be close, even while going through such strong and difficult tests.
Many of us think of a relationship with Hashem in positive terms, like noticing Hashem in the good things, appreciating Him and asking Him for things when we need. But there's a different connection, a bond just as real and as close, in the complaining and asking why.
Why is that so?
When a person turns TO Hashem when they're upset...or just plain frustrated...and they don't turn away from Him, it shows they still have that kesher. They KNOW the difficulties they are experiencing are from Him and they're annoyed at Him, almost as if they're saying, How could you do this to me? How could you pile this on-on top of everything else I'm dealing with?? Since the person continues to acknowledge and talk to Him, with the awareness that it all comes from Hashem, it shows that they are still so very close.
This can be compared to someone who comes to their father/mother when they are fuming mad at him/her for doing something to them-knowing that it came directly from their parent. The child does not cut off ties with them because of what was done, no matter how upset he is. The child is still talking to their father or mother. The two of them still have that connection...and it's a very strong one. This bond is so powerful and it will keep them close even when they are angry or hurt.
When a person reaches inside themselves when they are experiencing real challenges, when they start to question everything they hear, they may feel distant. But really, this is an expression of the pain they're in, of the depth of the soul connection they have with the One Above, albeit not a connection one would use to describe closeness. But honestly, it IS a connection of closeness, of yearning, of desire...and yes, of love. Love amidst anger and pain but love nonetheless.
There are different stages of our relationship with Hashem. Sometimes it is positive and easy and other times it is tough-but one must remember that at all points, that connection is never severed. The bond is there, always.
May you be able to always feel close to Hashem...no matter what kind of connection you have.
Labels:
Challenge,
Connection,
Father,
Life,
Mother,
Questions,
Relationship,
Understand
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Dear Precious Neshama
Dear Precious Neshama,
So many people are mourning your loss. People who didn't know your family, and who surely didn't get to know you in the short time you spent here on this earth.
But your story is touching so many.
You are proof, once again, of how much we humans cannot understand.
Your short life is one big mystery...in our little minds.
One big question mark.
One big question.
A question that cannot be answered.
Why?
Why so much pain?
Why were you put into this world for such a short amount of time...only to return to shamayim without doing, without accomplishing?
There is no one to sit shiva for you. No one to mourn your loss.
So instead, all of us are mourning.
All of us are crying.
All of us are in pain.
But you, you have accomplished whatever you were put here to do. You didn't need as much time as the rest of us. You had to take a measured amount of breaths in this world...and then you were ready to ascend to the next world.
You are so pure, shining little soul.
You are so completely clean, precious neshama.
You are so holy.
You were encased in holiness in those few months that your mother carried you, spending all your time learning with a malach...all you would have to know.
What did you learn in there, little neshama?
What did the malach teach you?
What did you need to learn if you were going to be taken so soon after your body entered this world?
So many questions.
I certainly don't have answers.
Little neshama, now you are in a lofty place. You are together with your parents, together with your mother, together with your father...and together with our tatte in himmel, the only Father each of us can call our own.
You are so close to kedusha. You are in a place of clarity.
You understand everything we wish we can understand.
Precious, shining neshama, can you please have a little conversation with your Father, with my Father, with Our Father?
Can you please ask Him to put an end to our pain? An end to our suffering?
Can you please ask Him to replace our tears of sorrow, of anguish and of despair...with tears of joy, of happiness and of hope?
We've been hoping for so long. We've been waiting for too long.
Don't you think it's time?
Precious neshama, I know you can hear me. Please...I wish I can hear your answer.
So many people are mourning your loss. People who didn't know your family, and who surely didn't get to know you in the short time you spent here on this earth.
But your story is touching so many.
You are proof, once again, of how much we humans cannot understand.
Your short life is one big mystery...in our little minds.
One big question mark.
One big question.
A question that cannot be answered.
Why?
Why so much pain?
Why were you put into this world for such a short amount of time...only to return to shamayim without doing, without accomplishing?
There is no one to sit shiva for you. No one to mourn your loss.
So instead, all of us are mourning.
All of us are crying.
All of us are in pain.
But you, you have accomplished whatever you were put here to do. You didn't need as much time as the rest of us. You had to take a measured amount of breaths in this world...and then you were ready to ascend to the next world.
You are so pure, shining little soul.
You are so completely clean, precious neshama.
You are so holy.
You were encased in holiness in those few months that your mother carried you, spending all your time learning with a malach...all you would have to know.
What did you learn in there, little neshama?
What did the malach teach you?
What did you need to learn if you were going to be taken so soon after your body entered this world?
So many questions.
I certainly don't have answers.
Little neshama, now you are in a lofty place. You are together with your parents, together with your mother, together with your father...and together with our tatte in himmel, the only Father each of us can call our own.
You are so close to kedusha. You are in a place of clarity.
You understand everything we wish we can understand.
Precious, shining neshama, can you please have a little conversation with your Father, with my Father, with Our Father?
Can you please ask Him to put an end to our pain? An end to our suffering?
Can you please ask Him to replace our tears of sorrow, of anguish and of despair...with tears of joy, of happiness and of hope?
We've been hoping for so long. We've been waiting for too long.
Don't you think it's time?
Precious neshama, I know you can hear me. Please...I wish I can hear your answer.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Dear Precious Newborn
Dear Precious Newborn,
I heard what happened and my heart is breaking for you.
You came into this world without parents-they were killed while you survived. The day of your birth, your birthday, will always be the yartzheit of your parents, of the parents you will never be lucky enough to know.
You will never feel the warmth of a mothers kiss on your cheek. You will never be able to run into your mother's loving arms when you fall and hurt yourself.
You will never be able to be comforted with the simple, innocent cry of "Mommy"...because there will be no one to answer that call.
And you will never have a father to do homework with you, to share special moments with, to sing songs to you or to tell you funny stories.
I don't know your parents. I never did.
And...neither will you.
I heard their story, I heard your story, and connected to your pain.
You will be raised by others. Others who will love you and take care of you...and treasure you.
If there is one thing I can tell you, precious little newborn, one message that I can give over to you, it would be this.
So many of our great people grew up without parents and they became great despite...or because of, their circumstances. They struggled, they fought and they achieved.
Hashem is on your side. Hashem will be with you, little neshama. Hashem put you in this world at the precise moment that He desired...and He chose to take your parents away from you at the very same moment.
We don't understand why.
We can't understand why.
But we do know...that there is a reason.
There is a plan.
And you are a part in it.
Just like your birth was so clearly a miracle, Hashem's hand in your life, your parents death was also a manifestation of Hashem's hand in your life.
Hashem gives...
Hashem gave you life.
Hashem takes...
Hashem took your parents' life.
Yehi sheim Hashem mevorach.
May you be able to see Hashem's hand in your life...always.
May you be able to feel Hashem by your side when you call out "Tatty"...because He is your only Father. The only Father you have.
I heard what happened and my heart is breaking for you.
You came into this world without parents-they were killed while you survived. The day of your birth, your birthday, will always be the yartzheit of your parents, of the parents you will never be lucky enough to know.
You will never feel the warmth of a mothers kiss on your cheek. You will never be able to run into your mother's loving arms when you fall and hurt yourself.
You will never be able to be comforted with the simple, innocent cry of "Mommy"...because there will be no one to answer that call.
And you will never have a father to do homework with you, to share special moments with, to sing songs to you or to tell you funny stories.
I don't know your parents. I never did.
And...neither will you.
I heard their story, I heard your story, and connected to your pain.
You will be raised by others. Others who will love you and take care of you...and treasure you.
If there is one thing I can tell you, precious little newborn, one message that I can give over to you, it would be this.
So many of our great people grew up without parents and they became great despite...or because of, their circumstances. They struggled, they fought and they achieved.
Hashem is on your side. Hashem will be with you, little neshama. Hashem put you in this world at the precise moment that He desired...and He chose to take your parents away from you at the very same moment.
We don't understand why.
We can't understand why.
But we do know...that there is a reason.
There is a plan.
And you are a part in it.
Just like your birth was so clearly a miracle, Hashem's hand in your life, your parents death was also a manifestation of Hashem's hand in your life.
Hashem gives...
Hashem gave you life.
Hashem takes...
Hashem took your parents' life.
Yehi sheim Hashem mevorach.
May you be able to see Hashem's hand in your life...always.
May you be able to feel Hashem by your side when you call out "Tatty"...because He is your only Father. The only Father you have.
Labels:
Father
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Spoken Words-A Poem
This poem was written by S.R. Thank you for emailing it to me and allowing me to share it with everyone here.
I talked to You, Hashem, today
I wonder if You heard.
I tried to pick up forsaken treasures
But did You hear my words?
I opened pages so close, so far
And read aloud each word.
A voice once hesitant again poured forth
As the soul inside me stirred.
I wondered as I stood alone
Two feet close like one,
If I were an angel by Your side,
Could I still be Your son?
Did you know when I was far
That pain was there like stones-
Blocking off my path to go
Obstructing ways once home?
Were You there when I was lost
At the times I couldn’t see-
In the moments when all was dark
Too much for me to see me?
In those days, the longest yet
Far outstretching years,
When I sat low, detached, so far,
Why’d you have faith in me?
Was it okay that I talked to none
You’re presence inclusive with all?
For like I said, I was a son
Leaving angels for Your halls…
Why, now, after I stayed so far
When I try to connect with You,
Does something say it’s okay for me
To speak the words I do?
Is it really when I’ve strayed so far
And connection brought to nil-
Unable to muster three short words
Content with “One day I will.”?
Why, within me is a voice
That says, “Child, it’s fine.”
For between the words “One day I will”,
Was, ‘Dad, still call me Mine.”
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Journey
Thank you R.P. for emailing this to me.
To My Dearest Child,
To My Dearest Child,
We have to part for now, for you are about to embark on a most special journey. I’m sending you on this trip so that you can strengthen yourself, and reaffirm your devotion to me. Here is the starting point and there is the end where I’ll be waiting to reunite with you. You’ll be given a suitcase with everything you will need for the trip. Make sure to take stock of your tools and utilize them to help make your trip most effective.
The road you take will swerve with frequent ups and downs and plenty of obstacles that will stand in your way. As soon as you overcome an obstacle you will find yourself closer to me than ever before.
Don’t forget to study the map I gave you for it is the most valuable possession on this trip. I will guide you with each turn you take, and will indicate when you should stop and ask for directions. The billboards along the way will try to entice you to veer from the path. Don’t be deceived! Keep your eyes focused on the map & follow it religiously. Share it with others who might be lost or searching.
There will be small pleasures along the road to enhance your trip. Stop to eat, to rest, & enjoy. But beware. These pleasures are just means to help you efficiently reach your goal. Don’t get caught up in their web, because you’ll have a hard time getting back on track. Be careful not to fill up your bags with things you don’t need because any garbage you collect will tie you down and make it harder for you to reach me.
You will make friends along the way. Cherish them, give to them, and hold their hands as you travel towards me. There will be times that you might feel lonely, but don’t be frightened. I’m watching you closely, & I’m eagerly waiting for you at the end. I am available at all times should you feel the need to speak with me. I can hear your every word, even the slightest whisper.
There will be many things you see & experience along the way that you will not understand. Just remember that you only see what’s right before your eyes. I have the view from above, where I see it all. I personally have tailored the journey just for you, with every detail designed to ensure a successful trip.
Your days on this trip are short in numbers but great in potential. Use each one to it’s fullest, traveling towards me at all times.
And remember-this is no ordinary journey, this is the journey of your lifetime.
The road you take will swerve with frequent ups and downs and plenty of obstacles that will stand in your way. As soon as you overcome an obstacle you will find yourself closer to me than ever before.
Don’t forget to study the map I gave you for it is the most valuable possession on this trip. I will guide you with each turn you take, and will indicate when you should stop and ask for directions. The billboards along the way will try to entice you to veer from the path. Don’t be deceived! Keep your eyes focused on the map & follow it religiously. Share it with others who might be lost or searching.
There will be small pleasures along the road to enhance your trip. Stop to eat, to rest, & enjoy. But beware. These pleasures are just means to help you efficiently reach your goal. Don’t get caught up in their web, because you’ll have a hard time getting back on track. Be careful not to fill up your bags with things you don’t need because any garbage you collect will tie you down and make it harder for you to reach me.
You will make friends along the way. Cherish them, give to them, and hold their hands as you travel towards me. There will be times that you might feel lonely, but don’t be frightened. I’m watching you closely, & I’m eagerly waiting for you at the end. I am available at all times should you feel the need to speak with me. I can hear your every word, even the slightest whisper.
There will be many things you see & experience along the way that you will not understand. Just remember that you only see what’s right before your eyes. I have the view from above, where I see it all. I personally have tailored the journey just for you, with every detail designed to ensure a successful trip.
Your days on this trip are short in numbers but great in potential. Use each one to it’s fullest, traveling towards me at all times.
And remember-this is no ordinary journey, this is the journey of your lifetime.
From,
Your Loving Father
Sunday, November 13, 2011
A Mother's Tears
This was posted before and has a very powerful message.
Yair Eitan’s father ran a produce distribution business in Northern Israel. When Yair was old enough, he began driving the delivery truck. One of his regular deliveries was at Yeshivah Lev V’Nefesh, whose student body was primarily comprised of baalei teshuvah. Yair’s parents had carefully shielded him from his religion; his upbringing was strictly secular.
The joy and excitement Yair saw within the yeshivah walls aroused his curiosity. He allowed himself to be drawn into conversation with a few yeshivah students. On his third trip there, Yair was already sitting down for a few minutes to sample Torah study. When Yair finally told his parents what he had discovered in the yeshivah, his father became enraged.
"No son of mine is going to become a backward, bearded chareidi! You are no longer to deliver to that route and you are forbidden to visit that yeshivah, or any other yeshivah, ever again!"
Yair knew that one must obey one’s father, except when a parent explicitly commands a child to disobey the Torah. He continued to clandestinely visit the yeshivah. But his father found out, and he reacted violently. Yair, however, was determined. He inquired as to other available yeshivos, left a note wishing his parents well, and left without revealing his destination.
His father searched for him and forced him to return home. Not only that, he blamed the Rosh Yeshivah of Lev V’Nefesh and filed charges against him of brainwashing his 18-year-old son and of engineering his flight from home. The trial aroused great interest, and the trial date found a packed courtroom eagerly awaiting to hear the proceedings. Yair’s testimony did not help the prosecution at all. Yair insisted that he had not been coerced to attend the yeshivah; it was of his own volition.
While Yair was recounting his story, the judge presiding over the case, an elderly man, seemed a bit distracted. He would intermittently take his eyes off the speaker to gaze intently at Yair’s father. When Yair left the witness stand, the judge announced, "I would like Mr. Eitan to step forward."
Yair’s father was surprised as he stepped up to the witness stand. The judge asked if he was of Eastern European descent, if his name back in Europe was perhaps "Stark". Mr. Eitan was clearly taken aback, and he stammered that the judge was indeed correct. "And are you originally from Pinsk?" asked the judge. Mr. Eitan nodded meekly.
The judge continued, "I remember you well. You come from one of the finest homes of pre-War Pinsk. Your father was a deeply religious and highly respected man. Your mother was renowned for her kindness. She would cook meals for the poor and the sick regularly. I remember well when, as an 18-year-old, you openly departed from your parents’ ways. When you publicly desecrated the Shabbos for the first time, your father aged overnight and seemed to be constantly in mourning. Your mother would shed a river of tears every Friday night when she lit the candles. I often wondered what became of all her tears. I’m not the most religious person, but I know that there is a G-d who runs this world, and I could not understand how the tears of so righteous a woman could be ignored in Heaven.
"Today my question has been answered. I see that her tears were not shed in vain. Today, almost 50 years later, her grandson has returned to the ways of his ancestors. Mr. Eitan, I’m sure you recall that on more than one occasion, friends of your parents pleaded with you that for your parents’ sake you should at least refrain from public transgression. As I recall, your response was, ‘I’m now eighteen and I make my own decisions. I can live my life any way I please.' And you dare to file charges because your eighteen-year-old son has returned to the ways that you abandoned?”
“Case dismissed.”
Yair Eitan’s father ran a produce distribution business in Northern Israel. When Yair was old enough, he began driving the delivery truck. One of his regular deliveries was at Yeshivah Lev V’Nefesh, whose student body was primarily comprised of baalei teshuvah. Yair’s parents had carefully shielded him from his religion; his upbringing was strictly secular.
The joy and excitement Yair saw within the yeshivah walls aroused his curiosity. He allowed himself to be drawn into conversation with a few yeshivah students. On his third trip there, Yair was already sitting down for a few minutes to sample Torah study. When Yair finally told his parents what he had discovered in the yeshivah, his father became enraged.
"No son of mine is going to become a backward, bearded chareidi! You are no longer to deliver to that route and you are forbidden to visit that yeshivah, or any other yeshivah, ever again!"
Yair knew that one must obey one’s father, except when a parent explicitly commands a child to disobey the Torah. He continued to clandestinely visit the yeshivah. But his father found out, and he reacted violently. Yair, however, was determined. He inquired as to other available yeshivos, left a note wishing his parents well, and left without revealing his destination.
His father searched for him and forced him to return home. Not only that, he blamed the Rosh Yeshivah of Lev V’Nefesh and filed charges against him of brainwashing his 18-year-old son and of engineering his flight from home. The trial aroused great interest, and the trial date found a packed courtroom eagerly awaiting to hear the proceedings. Yair’s testimony did not help the prosecution at all. Yair insisted that he had not been coerced to attend the yeshivah; it was of his own volition.
While Yair was recounting his story, the judge presiding over the case, an elderly man, seemed a bit distracted. He would intermittently take his eyes off the speaker to gaze intently at Yair’s father. When Yair left the witness stand, the judge announced, "I would like Mr. Eitan to step forward."
Yair’s father was surprised as he stepped up to the witness stand. The judge asked if he was of Eastern European descent, if his name back in Europe was perhaps "Stark". Mr. Eitan was clearly taken aback, and he stammered that the judge was indeed correct. "And are you originally from Pinsk?" asked the judge. Mr. Eitan nodded meekly.
The judge continued, "I remember you well. You come from one of the finest homes of pre-War Pinsk. Your father was a deeply religious and highly respected man. Your mother was renowned for her kindness. She would cook meals for the poor and the sick regularly. I remember well when, as an 18-year-old, you openly departed from your parents’ ways. When you publicly desecrated the Shabbos for the first time, your father aged overnight and seemed to be constantly in mourning. Your mother would shed a river of tears every Friday night when she lit the candles. I often wondered what became of all her tears. I’m not the most religious person, but I know that there is a G-d who runs this world, and I could not understand how the tears of so righteous a woman could be ignored in Heaven.
"Today my question has been answered. I see that her tears were not shed in vain. Today, almost 50 years later, her grandson has returned to the ways of his ancestors. Mr. Eitan, I’m sure you recall that on more than one occasion, friends of your parents pleaded with you that for your parents’ sake you should at least refrain from public transgression. As I recall, your response was, ‘I’m now eighteen and I make my own decisions. I can live my life any way I please.' And you dare to file charges because your eighteen-year-old son has returned to the ways that you abandoned?”
“Case dismissed.”
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
The Race - A Poem
Part 1:
“Quit! Give up! You’re beaten!”
They shout out and plead.
“There’s just too much against you now,
This time you can’t succeed!”
And as I start to hang my head
In front of failure’s face,
My downward fall is broken by
The memory of a race.
And hope refills my weakened will
As I recall that scene;
For just the thought of that short race
Rejuvenates by being.
Part 2:
A children’s race – young boys, young men
How I remember well.
Excitement, sure, but also fear;
It wasn’t’ hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope;
Each thought to win the race,
Or tie for first, or if not that,
At least take second place.
And fathers watched from off the side,
Each cheering for his son,
And each boy hoped to show his dad
That he would be the one.
The whistle blew and off they went,
Young hearts and hopes afire!
To win, to be the hero there,
Was each young boy’s desire.
And one boy in particular
Whose dad was in the crowd,
Was running near the lead and thought
“My dad will be so proud!”
But as he sped down the field
Across a shallow dip,
The little boy who thought to win,
Lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself
His hands flew out to brace,
And mid the laughter of the crowd,
He fell flat on is face.
But as he fell, his dad stoop up
And showed his anxious face,
Which to the boy so clearly said,
“Get up and win the race!”
He quickly rose, no damage done,
Behind a bit, that’s all –
And ran with all his mind and might
To make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself
To catch up and to win,
His mind went faster than he legs;
He slipped and fell again!
He wished that he had quit before
With only one disgrace.
“I’m hopeless as a runner now;
I shouldn’t try to race.”
But in the laughing crowd he searched
And found his father’s face,
That steady look which said again,
“Get up and win the race!”
So he jumped up to try again,
Ten yards behind the last –
“If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought,
“I’ve got to move real fast.”
Exerting everything he had
He gained eight or ten,
But trying so hard to catch the lead,
He slipped and fell again!
Defeat! He lay there silently
A tear dropped from his eye
“There’s no sense running anymore;
Three strikes, I’m out, why try?”
The will to try had disappeared
All hope had fled away;
So far behind, so error prone,
A loser all the way.
“I’ve lost; so what’s the use,” he thought.
“I’ll live with my disgrace.”
But then he thought about his dad
Whom soon he’d have to face.
“Get up!” an echo sounded low.
“Get up and take your place.
You were not meant for failure here.
Get up and win the race!”
With borrowed will, “Get up,” it said,
“You haven’t lost at all.
For winning is not more than this –
To rise each time you fall.”
So up he rose to win once more,
And with new commit,
He resolved that win or lose,
At least he wouldn’t quit.
So far behind the others now
The most he’d ever been
Still he gave it all he had
And ran as though to win.
Three times he’d fallen stumbling,
Three times he’d rose again,
Too far behind to hope to win
He still ran to the end.
They cheered the winning runner
As he crossed first place,
Head high, proud and happy,
No falling, no disgrace.
But when the fallen youngster
Crossed the line, last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer
For finishing the race.
And even though he came in last
With head bowed low, un-proud,
You would have thought he won the race
Just listening to the crowd.
And to his dad he sadly said,
“I didn’t do so well.”
“To me you won,” his father said.
“You rose each time you fell!”
“Quit! Give up! You’re beaten!”
They shout out and plead.
“There’s just too much against you now,
This time you can’t succeed!”
And as I start to hang my head
In front of failure’s face,
My downward fall is broken by
The memory of a race.
And hope refills my weakened will
As I recall that scene;
For just the thought of that short race
Rejuvenates by being.
Part 2:
A children’s race – young boys, young men
How I remember well.
Excitement, sure, but also fear;
It wasn’t’ hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope;
Each thought to win the race,
Or tie for first, or if not that,
At least take second place.
And fathers watched from off the side,
Each cheering for his son,
And each boy hoped to show his dad
That he would be the one.
The whistle blew and off they went,
Young hearts and hopes afire!
To win, to be the hero there,
Was each young boy’s desire.
And one boy in particular
Whose dad was in the crowd,
Was running near the lead and thought
“My dad will be so proud!”
But as he sped down the field
Across a shallow dip,
The little boy who thought to win,
Lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself
His hands flew out to brace,
And mid the laughter of the crowd,
He fell flat on is face.
But as he fell, his dad stoop up
And showed his anxious face,
Which to the boy so clearly said,
“Get up and win the race!”
He quickly rose, no damage done,
Behind a bit, that’s all –
And ran with all his mind and might
To make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself
To catch up and to win,
His mind went faster than he legs;
He slipped and fell again!
He wished that he had quit before
With only one disgrace.
“I’m hopeless as a runner now;
I shouldn’t try to race.”
But in the laughing crowd he searched
And found his father’s face,
That steady look which said again,
“Get up and win the race!”
So he jumped up to try again,
Ten yards behind the last –
“If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought,
“I’ve got to move real fast.”
Exerting everything he had
He gained eight or ten,
But trying so hard to catch the lead,
He slipped and fell again!
Defeat! He lay there silently
A tear dropped from his eye
“There’s no sense running anymore;
Three strikes, I’m out, why try?”
The will to try had disappeared
All hope had fled away;
So far behind, so error prone,
A loser all the way.
“I’ve lost; so what’s the use,” he thought.
“I’ll live with my disgrace.”
But then he thought about his dad
Whom soon he’d have to face.
“Get up!” an echo sounded low.
“Get up and take your place.
You were not meant for failure here.
Get up and win the race!”
With borrowed will, “Get up,” it said,
“You haven’t lost at all.
For winning is not more than this –
To rise each time you fall.”
So up he rose to win once more,
And with new commit,
He resolved that win or lose,
At least he wouldn’t quit.
So far behind the others now
The most he’d ever been
Still he gave it all he had
And ran as though to win.
Three times he’d fallen stumbling,
Three times he’d rose again,
Too far behind to hope to win
He still ran to the end.
They cheered the winning runner
As he crossed first place,
Head high, proud and happy,
No falling, no disgrace.
But when the fallen youngster
Crossed the line, last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer
For finishing the race.
And even though he came in last
With head bowed low, un-proud,
You would have thought he won the race
Just listening to the crowd.
And to his dad he sadly said,
“I didn’t do so well.”
“To me you won,” his father said.
“You rose each time you fell!”
Taken from www.chinuch.org by Miss Antebi
Sunday, February 20, 2011
A Letter - Tefillah
Someone emailed this to me - she wrote this for a tefillah class and I'm posting it here with her permission.
On his deathbed, a father wrote this letter to his son.
Dear child,
I know you are suffering and in pain. I know you miss me and things are hard. I am enclosing a name and number of someone who can help you with all your problems.
I have someone who will help you learn. He has all the tools to help you get 100 on every test. He is never to busy and you can call him at all hours.
This someone has all the money in the world; so don’t feel bad to ask.
This someone has the power to grant your every request big or small.
Just call out to this “Someone”.
I’m going to give you this someone’s address and phone number so you can reach him.
Actually, you can dial any number to reach him and his line is never busy. His address is everywhere; you don’t have to search. He’s with you at all times throughout your day, and is watching you even as you are reading this letter.
Just know He is your father and call out to him. As I’ve said, His line is never busy. They call this someone Hashem, He created the whole world and surely He can help you.
Cry.
Beg.
Plead.
Make a connection. The more you talk to Him the more He’ll help you.
I love you.
Abba
On his deathbed, a father wrote this letter to his son.
Dear child,
I know you are suffering and in pain. I know you miss me and things are hard. I am enclosing a name and number of someone who can help you with all your problems.
I have someone who will help you learn. He has all the tools to help you get 100 on every test. He is never to busy and you can call him at all hours.
This someone has all the money in the world; so don’t feel bad to ask.
This someone has the power to grant your every request big or small.
Just call out to this “Someone”.
I’m going to give you this someone’s address and phone number so you can reach him.
Actually, you can dial any number to reach him and his line is never busy. His address is everywhere; you don’t have to search. He’s with you at all times throughout your day, and is watching you even as you are reading this letter.
Just know He is your father and call out to him. As I’ve said, His line is never busy. They call this someone Hashem, He created the whole world and surely He can help you.
Cry.
Beg.
Plead.
Make a connection. The more you talk to Him the more He’ll help you.
I love you.
Abba
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