Dear Friends,
This Shabbos is Shabbos Zachor, the Shabbos on which we remember. We are instructed to remember to forget the audacious nation of Amelek who attacked us as we fled Egypt.
But, what does it mean to remember to forget? To remember, is not to forget at all. And why are we remembering to forget them so many years later?
Quite frankly, today, all I could care to remember is Rashi, a young Chabad Rebetzin only 37 years old whose life was tragically and suddenly snuffed out this week, leaving a husband and eight little orphans.
There are many reasons why she’s on the forefront of my thoughts. I did spend a summer with her way back when, one of her sixteen siblings of which she was the oldest was a classmate of mine and her mother was my teacher.
She was a beautiful, strong, happy woman whose focus was on her family and oh her community. Together with her husband, Rabbi Hirhsy Minkowics, she co directed Chabad or North Fulton in Alpharetta, Georgia. Sifting through her facebook posts I see pictures of adorable little faces, smiling and impeccably dressed. She was a fabulous baker who dished out wonderful treats for the many guests she had on a weekly basis, she was a Rebetzin not just to those in Alpharetta but stayed in touch with and was a mentor to many that came through her home and most importantly, she was a mommy to eight precious little souls.
Last night as I was putting some finishing touches on our community Purim packages Etti was still bouncing around wanting to help in any way I’d agree to let her and at the same time endlessly calling my name to tell me all sorts of tidbits that came to her mind. Even the girls helping me couldn’t help but giggle at the humor of it. It was literally, “Mommy, Boruch Hashem, you see my scrape is getting better.” “Mommy, you’re so slow, look how many boxes are waiting for you to put the candies in.” And on. And on. And on!! Then finally, “Mommy, Pleeeeeeease can I have one of these boxes of chocolates? I promise I’ll hide it in my room in the box on top of my dresser where Moussia hides her jewelry.”
It was ten thirty at night. I was tired. I barely had strength to answer her. I really wanted her in bed. I needed quiet, I needed space and mostly, I needed rest. And then it hit me all as once, this was my Amalek!
You see, as humans we each have a little Amalek inside of us, that little voice within that hinders us from maximizing our full potential or achieving what we really should or could. For each of us it’s something else. For me, it’s my patience, especially when I’m really tired!
I looked back at the very overtired but utterly excited toothless, triple dimpled doll in front of me and then I thought of Rashi, whose dimpled little babies could no longer share these moments with their Mommy and I remembered how very lucky I am. How every day moments are big moments. How the ordinary really is extraordinary. I said, “Yes Etti, you can have it, now please go to bed.” As she spun to head in that direction, she could hardly contain her joy. I called her back and said, “That’s just because I love you!”
So today I take the pledge. The remembering Rashi pledge. Not just today but every day.
To remember Rashi is to realize and not forget how very precious yet fragile life is, to cherish every moment of every day. Doing this makes getting rid of the little Amalek voice inside us disintegrate automatically. Makes him completely irrelevant.
Remembering to forget Amalek is to remind ourselves every single time he rears his little head, that he is worth forgetting. That we must forget him. Because life is just too short.