Early man swung axes
In animal skins,
But relevant human
History really begins
When readiness to receive
G-d’s law appears,
With the Hebrew calendar
Spanning six thousand years.
If it were millions of years,
We couldn’t connect –
No memory, essentially
No effect;
Our struggles, victories, inconsequential,
Our very existence, incidental,
Faceless, subject
To the winds of chance,
Lives meaning nothing
In time’s vast expanse.
Your grandparents have stories
That can track
Life lessons learned,
Generations back;
They carry the experiences
Faith and grit revealed
Of their own grandparents’
Trials and ordeals.
A fair percent of six thousand,
Several hundred years
Our journey continues,
Because they persevered.
Yaakov went back for small jars,
Seems insignificant;
These jars held the oil
Of his Charan monument.
Rabbi Shlomo Luria,
The Maharshal,
Connects these “small” jars
To the Chanukah miracle!
For returning in His Honor,
HaKadosh Baruch Hu expends
A sealed jar of oil
To the Chasmoneans!
The wolf’s eyes
Look to the forest;
No matter how well-fed,
Eisav’s wealth couldn’t
Quell his drive
To see his brother Yaakov dead.
Hashem sent down an angel,
The champion of Eisav,
To stake his claim to overrule
In battle with Yaakov.
The battle was ferocious,
An historic milestone;
The dust of their struggle
Reached the heavenly throne;
Yaakov emerged victorious,
Though wounded in his hip,
But until the angel blessed him,
Yaakov held him in his grip.
He vindicated Yaakov
Before taking flight;
Yaakov’s name now Israel,
The blessings his, by right.
Edom is alive and well –
Amalek, his prodigy –
Still sworn to wipe out Yaakov
From the river to the sea.
We must never despair,
Our prayer is precious to Hashem;
We are Yaakov’s children,
Our lot is with them.
Six thousand years
To Hashem are nothing;
The message to us, paramount:
All we do in life matters,
Each one of us counts!
By Sharon Marcus
