Thursday, July 25, 2013
Monday, July 22, 2013
A Daughter of Sarah - by Rabbi Aaron Zimmer
This post is written in memory of Shani Feder a"h.
The Torah in Chayei Sarah (24:67) tells us about Yitzchak's reaction to meeting his new bride, Rivka, in one short verse that contains three elements:
The Torah in Chayei Sarah (24:67) tells us about Yitzchak's reaction to meeting his new bride, Rivka, in one short verse that contains three elements:
וַיְבִאֶהָ יִצְחָק, הָאֹהֱלָה שָׂרָה אִמּוֹ, וַיִּקַּח אֶת רִבְקָה וַתְּהִי לוֹ לְאִשָּׁה, וַיֶּאֱהָבֶהָ; וַיִּנָּחֵם יִצְחָק, אַחֲרֵי אִמּוֹ
Yitzchak brought Rivka into the tent of his mother Sarah, then he marries her and loves her, and then he is comforted after the loss of his mother.
Why did Yitzchak bring Rivka into Sarah's tent? Why does the Torah tell us that he loved his wife? In general, the Torah does not go out of its way to tell us things that we would already have known, like the fact that a man loves his wife. What exactly was it that comforted Yitzchak and gave him consolation after the death of his mother? What is the relationship between the three elements mentioned in the verse?
In order to understand the nature of Yitzchak's consolation, we must first turn our attention to his loss, Sarah his mother. We will begin with Rashi's explanation of the the enigmatic phrase "הָאֹהֱלָה שָׂרָה אִמּוֹ" (lit. the tent Sarah his mother):
האהלה שרה אמו: ויביאה האהלה ונעשית דוגמת שרה אמו, כלומר והרי היא שרה אמו, שכל זמן ששרה קיימת היה נר דלוק מערב שבת לערב שבת, וברכה מצויה בעיסה, וענן קשור על האהל, ומשמתה פסקו, וכשבאת רבקה חזרו
He brought her to the tent and she became just like Sarah his mother (and behold, she was Sarah his mother). As long as Sarah was alive, a candle burned from one eve of Shabbos to the next, a blessing was found in the dough, and a cloud was attached to the tent. When she died, these things ceased, and when Rivka came, they resumed.
It is no accident that Rashi is describing Sarah's tent in a similar manner that the Torah describes the tent that her children later built as a resting place for the שכינה (Divine Presence), which also had a candelabra, a table with bread, and a cloud attached to it. This is consistent with Rashi's explanation (on the gemara Shabbos 55b) of the שכינה being found in the tents of Yaakov's wives: עד שלא נבנה אהל מועד היתה שכינה מצויה באהלי צדיקים
Yitzchak was mourning the loss of his mother, because when Sarah departed the שכינה left with her. The שכינה dwelt in the tent of Sarah, and it was not the same tent without her. Gone were the Shabbos candles that lasted all week; the bread no longer had the same taste. Everything was different, because without Sarah there was no שכינה.
In order to understand the relationship between the presence of Sarah and the presence of the שכינה, we need to appreciate the experience of being in Abraham and Sarah's tent. We need to appreciate what it really meant to be in the presence of Sarah. Fortunately, the Torah describes for us in vivid details one such afternoon in Abraham and Sarah's tent.
It was a hot sunny day with few travelers, and things were slow in the tent of Abraham and Sarah. Abraham sees three men, and immediately tries to persuade them to take a break and grab a quick bite. As soon as the travelers acquiesce, Abraham and Sarah's operation kicks into high gear.
The Rambam explains in the Laws of Personality Traits (1:6-7) that the ways of Abraham and Sarah are identical to the ways of the שכינה.
There was no limit to how many people Sarah could love; no limit to how many sons and daughters she could adopt. The more children she loved, the more room in her heart there was for more. When Hashem finally blessed her with her own cherished son, Yitzchak, her initial reaction was to think about other people (21:6):
Sarah was a unique individual. A woman who embodied the very essence of kindness and dignity. When you entered into her kitchen to talk to her, you were introduced to a personality that radiated the ways of the שכינה. The way of life that Abraham and Sarah lived, their actions and their speech, were identical to the ways of Hashem. If you wanted to greet the face of the שכינה, you went to Sarah's tent. If you wanted to learn the behavior of the שכינה, the proper ways for a person to imitate, you went to Sarah. She was a personification of the שכינה itself. Truly, the שכינה dwelt in the tent of Sarah our mother.
But on that one dark day that Sarah died, it all changed. No longer did the Shabbos candles last all week. Of course, Abraham tried his best. Of course he lit Shabbos candles, but by the next morning the flame was out. The bread he baked for the guests just didn't taste the same. Running the tent of Abraham and Sarah was not a one man operation. It took both Abraham and Sarah to run the show. When Sarah departed, the cloud departed. Without Sarah in the tent, there was no שכינה in the tent.
How great was Abraham and Yitzchak's pain? How great was the sadness and mourning by all of Sarah's children? The show could not continue without her. She was simply irreplaceable, and there had never before been anyone like her. The Ramban says that this sad state of affairs persisted for a long time. Yitzchak refused to be consoled, as his grief was too great. He was not just mourning the loss of his mother Sarah, but the loss of the שכינה from her tent.
Then Rivka came, and accomplished the impossible. She entered Sarah's tent and the שכינה entered with her. The cloud returned, and the Shabbos candles lasted all week. The bread she made for the guests reminded everyone of Sarah's famous bread. ויביאה האהלה ונעשית דוגמת שרה אמו, כלומר והרי היא שרה אמו. Yitzchak was amazed. Could it really be true? Another Sarah?
What comforted Yitzchak was the discovery that while Sarah herself might be gone, her character traits and personality lived on in her descendants. (Rashi says that Rivka was the granddaughter of Sarah's sister). Yes, Sarah was the first of her kind, but she would not be the last of her kind. There would be others like her, with whom the שכינה would dwell.
Unfortunately, the era of the שכינה dwelling in the tent of Abraham and Sarah was over, but a new era had begun. The שכינה would now dwell in the tent of Yitzchak and Rivka. Time moves on, but the personality and soul of Sarah persists through the next generation, and it will remain forever in her offspring. There will always be daughters of Sarah throughout the generations.
All of Sarah's children partake of her qualities to some degree, but some of them do so to an exceptionally high degree, where the resemblance is unmistakable. Shani Feder was a true daughter of Sarah. If you wanted to know what it meant to walk into Sarah's tent and see the smile on her face as she greeted you, you merely had to walk into Shani's kitchen. All who wanted to learn the ways of the שכינה, knew where to go. The שכינה continued to dwell with the daughter of Sarah.
How great is our loss! We mourn not just the loss of Shani, but the loss of a daughter of Sarah our mother. We mourn the loss of the שכינה she brought into her house. Where will we go when we need to see her face smiling at us? Where will we go when we need to be in her presence?
There can only be one consolation for us, and it is none other than that which consoled Yitzchak. Shani is gone, but if there is one thing Sarah did best, it was to transmit her personality and perfections to others; to her children and family, to her adopted children and extended family, to her many best friends, and to all those who came into contact with her.
Shani the daughter of Sarah is gone, but the שכינה will return to the houses of those that follow in her ways. This, and only this, can comfort our bereaved hearts. May Hashem console us after Shani's passing, as He consoled Yitzchak after his mother Sarah's passing.
In order to understand the relationship between the presence of Sarah and the presence of the שכינה, we need to appreciate the experience of being in Abraham and Sarah's tent. We need to appreciate what it really meant to be in the presence of Sarah. Fortunately, the Torah describes for us in vivid details one such afternoon in Abraham and Sarah's tent.
It was a hot sunny day with few travelers, and things were slow in the tent of Abraham and Sarah. Abraham sees three men, and immediately tries to persuade them to take a break and grab a quick bite. As soon as the travelers acquiesce, Abraham and Sarah's operation kicks into high gear.
וַיְמַהֵר אַבְרָהָם הָאֹהֱלָה, אֶל שָׂרָה; וַיֹּאמֶר, מַהֲרִי שְׁלֹשׁ סְאִים קֶמַח סֹלֶת לוּשִׁי, וַעֲשִׂי עֻגוֹת. וְאֶל הַבָּקָר, רָץ אַבְרָהָם; וַיִּקַּח בֶּן בָּקָר רַךְ וָטוֹב, וַיִּתֵּן אֶל הַנַּעַר, וַיְמַהֵר, לַעֲשׂוֹת אֹתוֹ. וַיִּקַּח חֶמְאָה וְחָלָב, וּבֶן הַבָּקָר אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה, וַיִּתֵּן, לִפְנֵיהֶם; וְהוּא עֹמֵד עֲלֵיהֶם תַּחַת הָעֵץ, וַיֹּאכֵלוּ. וַיֹּאמְרוּ אֵלָיו, אַיֵּה שָׂרָה אִשְׁתֶּךָ; וַיֹּאמֶר, הִנֵּה בָאֹהֶלAbraham hastens to the tent to tell Sarah about their new guests. She quickly starts baking a separate loaf of her famous bread for each traveler. According to Rashi, Abraham prepared three separate calves, so that each guest could get the best cut of meat. It had to be the best meat and it had to be the best sauce. Each guest had to have their favorite dish. Sure there would be extra food left over, but that was price you paid for your guests. That is how things were done in Abraham and Sarah's tent.
If that was how a stranger was treated, we can only imagine what it meant to be part of Abraham and Sarah's household. The Rambam tells us (A.Z. 1:14) that their household comprised tens of thousands of people (עד שנתקבצו אליו אלפים ורבבות והם אנשי בית אברהם). What was their method? How did they have such a large household?
Rashi explains the verse in Lech Lecha (12:5) that states that Abraham and Sarah took the "souls they made" and traveled to Canaan:
אשר עשו בחרן: שהכניסן תחת כנפי השכינה, אברהם מגייר את האנשים, ושרה מגיירת הנשים, ומעלה עליהם הכתוב כאלו עשאוםAbraham would bring the men under the wings of the שכינה, and Sarah would bring the women. Together, they became the parents of many new souls. Everyone was Abraham's son. Everyone was Sarah's daughter. They extended their family with no limit, until they brought everyone they could into their household; until they introduced them all to the ways of the שכינה.
The Rambam explains in the Laws of Personality Traits (1:6-7) that the ways of Abraham and Sarah are identical to the ways of the שכינה.
כך למדו בפירוש מצוה זו. מה הוא נקרא חנון אף אתה היה חנון. מה הוא נקרא רחום אף אתה היה רחום. מה הוא נקרא קדוש אף אתה היה קדוש...ולפי שהשמות האלו נקרא בהן היוצר והם הדרך הבינונית שאנו חייבין ללכת בה נקראת דרך זו דרך ה'. והיא שלמד אברהם אבינו לבניו שנאמר כי ידעתיו למען אשר יצוהAbraham and Sarah adopted many sons and daughters and taught them the ways of the שכינה. We know that Abraham taught classes to his sons, and maybe Sarah did the same for her daughters. Or perhaps Sarah just brought her daughters under the wings of the שכינה using her more subtle methods; having a conversation with you, asking you if you wanted a coffee, or maybe it was just the light in her eyes and the smile on her face.
There was no limit to how many people Sarah could love; no limit to how many sons and daughters she could adopt. The more children she loved, the more room in her heart there was for more. When Hashem finally blessed her with her own cherished son, Yitzchak, her initial reaction was to think about other people (21:6):
וַתֹּאמֶר שָׂרָה צְחֹק עָשָׂה לִי אֱלֹהִים כָּל הַשֹּׁמֵעַ יִצֲחַק לִיSarah was happy because everyone else was happy for her. Was there ever a happier household in history than the tent of Abraham and Sarah on the day Yitzchak was born? Sarah was a person that everyone could be happy for, because she was only happy for them! Sarah loved them and they loved her. There was no pettiness or jealousy between Sarah and all her best friends (and everyone was Sarah's best friend).
Sarah was a unique individual. A woman who embodied the very essence of kindness and dignity. When you entered into her kitchen to talk to her, you were introduced to a personality that radiated the ways of the שכינה. The way of life that Abraham and Sarah lived, their actions and their speech, were identical to the ways of Hashem. If you wanted to greet the face of the שכינה, you went to Sarah's tent. If you wanted to learn the behavior of the שכינה, the proper ways for a person to imitate, you went to Sarah. She was a personification of the שכינה itself. Truly, the שכינה dwelt in the tent of Sarah our mother.
But on that one dark day that Sarah died, it all changed. No longer did the Shabbos candles last all week. Of course, Abraham tried his best. Of course he lit Shabbos candles, but by the next morning the flame was out. The bread he baked for the guests just didn't taste the same. Running the tent of Abraham and Sarah was not a one man operation. It took both Abraham and Sarah to run the show. When Sarah departed, the cloud departed. Without Sarah in the tent, there was no שכינה in the tent.
How great was Abraham and Yitzchak's pain? How great was the sadness and mourning by all of Sarah's children? The show could not continue without her. She was simply irreplaceable, and there had never before been anyone like her. The Ramban says that this sad state of affairs persisted for a long time. Yitzchak refused to be consoled, as his grief was too great. He was not just mourning the loss of his mother Sarah, but the loss of the שכינה from her tent.
Then Rivka came, and accomplished the impossible. She entered Sarah's tent and the שכינה entered with her. The cloud returned, and the Shabbos candles lasted all week. The bread she made for the guests reminded everyone of Sarah's famous bread. ויביאה האהלה ונעשית דוגמת שרה אמו, כלומר והרי היא שרה אמו. Yitzchak was amazed. Could it really be true? Another Sarah?
What comforted Yitzchak was the discovery that while Sarah herself might be gone, her character traits and personality lived on in her descendants. (Rashi says that Rivka was the granddaughter of Sarah's sister). Yes, Sarah was the first of her kind, but she would not be the last of her kind. There would be others like her, with whom the שכינה would dwell.
Unfortunately, the era of the שכינה dwelling in the tent of Abraham and Sarah was over, but a new era had begun. The שכינה would now dwell in the tent of Yitzchak and Rivka. Time moves on, but the personality and soul of Sarah persists through the next generation, and it will remain forever in her offspring. There will always be daughters of Sarah throughout the generations.
All of Sarah's children partake of her qualities to some degree, but some of them do so to an exceptionally high degree, where the resemblance is unmistakable. Shani Feder was a true daughter of Sarah. If you wanted to know what it meant to walk into Sarah's tent and see the smile on her face as she greeted you, you merely had to walk into Shani's kitchen. All who wanted to learn the ways of the שכינה, knew where to go. The שכינה continued to dwell with the daughter of Sarah.
How great is our loss! We mourn not just the loss of Shani, but the loss of a daughter of Sarah our mother. We mourn the loss of the שכינה she brought into her house. Where will we go when we need to see her face smiling at us? Where will we go when we need to be in her presence?
There can only be one consolation for us, and it is none other than that which consoled Yitzchak. Shani is gone, but if there is one thing Sarah did best, it was to transmit her personality and perfections to others; to her children and family, to her adopted children and extended family, to her many best friends, and to all those who came into contact with her.
Shani the daughter of Sarah is gone, but the שכינה will return to the houses of those that follow in her ways. This, and only this, can comfort our bereaved hearts. May Hashem console us after Shani's passing, as He consoled Yitzchak after his mother Sarah's passing.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
My "New Old Friend" - by Terri Schneeweiss
When my son Matt left home to study at YBT over a decade ago, I felt the pain of the separation that generations of moms have felt when their oldest child leaves home. I was excited at his anticipation about starting this part of his young adult life; I knew he would be fine and learn so much and meet new friends. As he began "introducing" me by phone to many of the families that invited him to Shabbos meals, I felt less stressed knowing, as would any Jewish mom, that my son was at least eating well.
One family he mentioned frequently was the Feder family, especially Shani, Mom Extraordinaire. "Mom, you have to meet her, you would really love her." I did and I do. How fortunate I was to meet such a "new old friend" in the senior years of my life. She and Mendy hosted our family for many meals and for many Shabbos stays during our visits from Seattle to spend time with Matt and Jon. She and I shared so many laugh-and-anecdote-filled hours of our lives; I miss her wise feedback and contagious good humor and serene humility. I prayed daily for her health. The news of her passing stunned me, even though I knew she was very ill.
I miss my friend Shani very, very much, my "new old friend" who I knew for such a short time and yet as if forever. During our "confabs" her expressive eyes did most of the talking and always, always there was that smile, warm and caring, upturned at the corners as if hiding secret chortles remembered from past conversations. When she asked me how I was, she listened with her whole heart to my answers and wasn't just trying to be polite. She really did care how I was. And in nearly every conversation, she somehow deflected any praise away from herself; during every visit, she reminded me how my two sons reflected my own middos, Torah values, goodwill, integrity, and intellect. I often echoed those thoughts back to her about her own legacy; hearing the loving words of her family as they bid farewell to her confirmed that her spirit will always be with them and with us.
Shani Feder's wisdom and strength stays with all of us who were blessed to know her. Surely she is soaring now, having broken through the shackles of pain that bound her to this earth. I saved her last voicemail to me; we'd been unable to see each other during my last visit five months ago. She sounded happy and peaceful, positive and encouraging as always and, appropriately (as I'm from Hawaii), she signed off saying "Aloha". There's an old song about what "Aloha" means - goodbye, good night, hello, welcome … but also - I love you, until we meet again.
So indeed, Shani, ALOHA … with much love from your new old friend,
Terri.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
In Honor of Shani (by Flo Fruchter)
Friday, July 5, 2013
Thank You, Shani (by Aryeh Edelman)
Mendy, Elie, Zahava and David,
Wish there were words that could do justice to the feelings I have about your loss. Many of my earliest memories are in your home in Staten Island. Your mother always knew what to say and do to make us feel happy and comfortable. Despite the many years that have passed, I have always had a special place in my heart for Shani. She played a big role in my growth and maturation as a child and always played a central role in my parents' life on a regular basis. I am forever indebted to her for that. Was so elated to see her at Tani's wedding this past March and to preserve in my mind the image of her celebrating at such a beautiful simcha. Our hearts are with you. May Hashem bless you with true nechama and the strength to carry on Shani's legacy.
Wish there were words that could do justice to the feelings I have about your loss. Many of my earliest memories are in your home in Staten Island. Your mother always knew what to say and do to make us feel happy and comfortable. Despite the many years that have passed, I have always had a special place in my heart for Shani. She played a big role in my growth and maturation as a child and always played a central role in my parents' life on a regular basis. I am forever indebted to her for that. Was so elated to see her at Tani's wedding this past March and to preserve in my mind the image of her celebrating at such a beautiful simcha. Our hearts are with you. May Hashem bless you with true nechama and the strength to carry on Shani's legacy.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Shani was Sunshine (by Estee Lichter)
To me, Shani was sunshine.
I brought her cookies a few weeks ago on a Friday. Soft, spiced, oatmeal raisin -- Zahava thought she would like them.
I had thought Bebe might open the door, as Shani had been resting the last time I had come by. But Shani herself opened the door, smiling as if she had been waiting for me, even though I was unannounced.
We stood and chatted by the door. I did not want to impose on her, again, having not phoned to say I was coming. But Shani was so welcoming that I just allowed myself to enjoy her company.
She inhaled deeply of the cup which held the cookies, and smiled, and said that she always liked to smell her food. She said Elie liked to smell his food too. I told her I had been reading a book about taste recently, and we chatted about the senses of smell and taste.
As we spoke, I marveled at this little lady. I knew she was sick. But a lady she was, so fine, so sweet and so pleasant, even as she spoke about the problems she was having with her vision. I did not want to keep her, to make her stand, but the smiles she gave me were so warm, so full of light and friendliness, that I just basked in it.
I loved that conversation with her. The sun was warm outside, the air was beautiful, and the greenery outside was swaying softly, but the person I was with was more radiant than it all. I smiled for hours afterwards. She was a beautiful person. I felt she loved me. I have come to see that everyone who knew her felt that way too.
I brought her cookies a few weeks ago on a Friday. Soft, spiced, oatmeal raisin -- Zahava thought she would like them.
I had thought Bebe might open the door, as Shani had been resting the last time I had come by. But Shani herself opened the door, smiling as if she had been waiting for me, even though I was unannounced.
We stood and chatted by the door. I did not want to impose on her, again, having not phoned to say I was coming. But Shani was so welcoming that I just allowed myself to enjoy her company.
She inhaled deeply of the cup which held the cookies, and smiled, and said that she always liked to smell her food. She said Elie liked to smell his food too. I told her I had been reading a book about taste recently, and we chatted about the senses of smell and taste.
As we spoke, I marveled at this little lady. I knew she was sick. But a lady she was, so fine, so sweet and so pleasant, even as she spoke about the problems she was having with her vision. I did not want to keep her, to make her stand, but the smiles she gave me were so warm, so full of light and friendliness, that I just basked in it.
I loved that conversation with her. The sun was warm outside, the air was beautiful, and the greenery outside was swaying softly, but the person I was with was more radiant than it all. I smiled for hours afterwards. She was a beautiful person. I felt she loved me. I have come to see that everyone who knew her felt that way too.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Love from Linda
As I get up from shiva for my mother, also Raizel, I marvel at how many similar qualities she and Shani shared. Friendship. They always made you feel that what you were saying and how you were feeling was the most important thing to them. When Esther came to pay a shiva visit to my sister and me, she commented that Esther, Channie and Shani were always best friends. It reminded me of something Mark Weiss said at Howie`s lavaya. He said that everyone believed that they were Howie`s best friend. So too with Shani, we all believed that Shani loved us the most. SELFLESSNESS. Shani and my mother were selfless and caring and positive people, with an inner strength that I saw in my mother as a Holocaust survior and in Shani as a thirty year warrior in her battle with a disease she fought so bravely to erraticate. I am trying so hard to follow Shani`s words of wisdom. Enjoy today and do not worry about tomorrow. If we spend today worrying about tomorrow, we will lose today AND tomorrow. But right now I only feel lost, because I just lost my two best friends. -- Linda
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Women's Shiur in Memory of Shani
When our mother was very ill around 5 years ago, our father started giving a weekly women's shiur over the phone to our mother's friends. Upon her recovery, our mother also participated and enjoyed it greatly. The shiur will continue, l'zecher nishmasa.
It is given at 8:30 PM on Tuesday nights (tonight included) and is approximately 1 hour. It is on chumash, hashkafa, tefilla, and various other topics. The call in number is 218-936-4343, with a pin# of 7630910.
All interested are invited to call in.
- Elie, David and Zahava Feder
It is given at 8:30 PM on Tuesday nights (tonight included) and is approximately 1 hour. It is on chumash, hashkafa, tefilla, and various other topics. The call in number is 218-936-4343, with a pin# of 7630910.
All interested are invited to call in.
- Elie, David and Zahava Feder
Shani's Memorial
A few months ago, when I was reviewing the laws of mourning, I came across an interesting halacha in the Mishneh Torah. In Hilchos Avel 4:4* the Rambam writes:
This morning I decided to browse the nosei kelim to see if they shed any light on this halacha. Thanks to the Kesef Mishneh, I found a tshuvah of the Rivash (siman 421) which provided a helpful explanation. According to the Rivash, when the Rambam spoke about the "devarim" of the tzadikim, he was referring to all of their "maaseihem ha'tovim" (their good actions) - not just their divrei chochmah. He explains that unlike average people, tzadikim don't need tombstones in order to be remembered, since their actions serve as their memorial.
All of this made sense on a purely intellectual level, but it wasn't until this week that I finally appreciated what the Rambam meant.
Today the Feder family got up from sitting shivah for Shani Feder a"h. Over the past week we have seen a great outpouring of feelings and memories from those who knew and loved Shani. These hespedim have had a ripple effect: even those who didn't know Shani, or only knew her peripherally, have been deeply moved by hearing what type of person she was. Rafi K. epitomized this phenomenon in his comments on my initial blog post:
But all of this is insignificant next to the true memorial: Shani's descendants. Shani's devarim will live on in her children, her grandchildren, all of their offspring. It is clear to everyone that all three of Shani's children have learned a lot from their mother during her time on this earth. This is the toras ha'eim ("mother's teaching") that Elie referred to in his hesped. Her grandchildren will, in turn, learn Shani's toras ha'eim from their parents. They will then transmit these same principles and qualities to their children, and so on. In this manner, Shani's devarim will continue to shape the lives and souls of countless generations.
Perhaps this is why, in the case of a tzadik, we specifically do not build a tombstone as a memorial. The tombstone functions as a memorial in a very restricted way. When people see it, memories are awakened in their minds, along with all of the thoughts and feelings associated with those memories. But these recollections are transient and have very little effect outside of the inner experiences of the living. Moreover, their range is very limited: the tombstone only functions as a memorial for the people who actually knew the deceased during his or her lifetime; for everyone else, the tombstone is just an inscription on a rock.
In contrast, the devarim of the tzadikim are a true memorial. These devarim exist not only in the memories of loved ones, but they continue to have a beneficial impact on reality itself. In this sense, these devarim stand as a far superior memorial to the life of a tzadik than a mere stone on a grave. Even the people who didn't know the tzadik or who lived at a later time will be affected by his devarim.
This is certainly true of Shani's devarim. For example, many people have noted that Shani always greeted every person with a cheerful countenance (see Avos 1:15), no matter how much pain and suffering she felt on the inside. Elie, Zahava, and David all embody this characteristic, and it is clear that they got it from their mother. Another example: Shani always prioritized the needs of others over her own. I see this in Shani's children as well, especially in watching them raise their children. The same is true of Shani's equanimity, her chesed, her modesty, her love for her family, and all of her other wonderful principles and traits. All of these devarim will stand for generations as a memorial for the life Shani lived.
Chazal teach that tzadikim, even in their death, are called "living." With Hashem's help, Shani's memory will live on in the lives of her children, grandchildren, and future descendants. They are her true memorial.
* In case you were wondering, the minhag Yisrael for many centuries has been to make tombstones for all graves, even those of tzadikim. See Iggros Moshe YD 4:57 for an explanation of the current practice.
We make markings on the graves, and we place a tombstone on the grave. For tzadikim we do not build a tombstone on their graves; their devarim are their memorials ...I assumed that the word "devarim" referred to the divrei Torah and divrei chochmah that were said by the tzadikim during their lifetime. This led me to wonder why the halacha was formulated in terms of tzadikim and not talmidei chachamim. I also wondered why the halacha was formulated as "we do not build a tombstone [on the graves of tzadikim]." What would be wrong with making a tombstone in addition to their devarim being their memorials?
This morning I decided to browse the nosei kelim to see if they shed any light on this halacha. Thanks to the Kesef Mishneh, I found a tshuvah of the Rivash (siman 421) which provided a helpful explanation. According to the Rivash, when the Rambam spoke about the "devarim" of the tzadikim, he was referring to all of their "maaseihem ha'tovim" (their good actions) - not just their divrei chochmah. He explains that unlike average people, tzadikim don't need tombstones in order to be remembered, since their actions serve as their memorial.
All of this made sense on a purely intellectual level, but it wasn't until this week that I finally appreciated what the Rambam meant.
Today the Feder family got up from sitting shivah for Shani Feder a"h. Over the past week we have seen a great outpouring of feelings and memories from those who knew and loved Shani. These hespedim have had a ripple effect: even those who didn't know Shani, or only knew her peripherally, have been deeply moved by hearing what type of person she was. Rafi K. epitomized this phenomenon in his comments on my initial blog post:
Beautiful post, thank you for writing this up. For me, Shani's hesped was the only one I can remember that served to elevate my soul. Even in her passing, the mentioning and recognition of her outstanding qualities is an inspiration to us all, and helps us focus on serving Hashem.This is what the Rambam was talking about when he said that the "devarim of tzadikim are their memorial." Hundreds of individuals have been (and will continue to be) inspired by the devarim of Shani - both her maasim tovim and her chochmah. I haven't been able to pay a shivah call, but I have no doubt that the Feder home has been packed with people who have been influenced by Shani's devarim. "Remembering Shani" has, to this date, received close to 2500 hits since its creation on Friday. Hundreds of us have experienced the same type of inspiration of which Rafi K. spoke.
But all of this is insignificant next to the true memorial: Shani's descendants. Shani's devarim will live on in her children, her grandchildren, all of their offspring. It is clear to everyone that all three of Shani's children have learned a lot from their mother during her time on this earth. This is the toras ha'eim ("mother's teaching") that Elie referred to in his hesped. Her grandchildren will, in turn, learn Shani's toras ha'eim from their parents. They will then transmit these same principles and qualities to their children, and so on. In this manner, Shani's devarim will continue to shape the lives and souls of countless generations.
Perhaps this is why, in the case of a tzadik, we specifically do not build a tombstone as a memorial. The tombstone functions as a memorial in a very restricted way. When people see it, memories are awakened in their minds, along with all of the thoughts and feelings associated with those memories. But these recollections are transient and have very little effect outside of the inner experiences of the living. Moreover, their range is very limited: the tombstone only functions as a memorial for the people who actually knew the deceased during his or her lifetime; for everyone else, the tombstone is just an inscription on a rock.
In contrast, the devarim of the tzadikim are a true memorial. These devarim exist not only in the memories of loved ones, but they continue to have a beneficial impact on reality itself. In this sense, these devarim stand as a far superior memorial to the life of a tzadik than a mere stone on a grave. Even the people who didn't know the tzadik or who lived at a later time will be affected by his devarim.
This is certainly true of Shani's devarim. For example, many people have noted that Shani always greeted every person with a cheerful countenance (see Avos 1:15), no matter how much pain and suffering she felt on the inside. Elie, Zahava, and David all embody this characteristic, and it is clear that they got it from their mother. Another example: Shani always prioritized the needs of others over her own. I see this in Shani's children as well, especially in watching them raise their children. The same is true of Shani's equanimity, her chesed, her modesty, her love for her family, and all of her other wonderful principles and traits. All of these devarim will stand for generations as a memorial for the life Shani lived.
Chazal teach that tzadikim, even in their death, are called "living." With Hashem's help, Shani's memory will live on in the lives of her children, grandchildren, and future descendants. They are her true memorial.
 |
| Shani with four of her grandchildren. |
* In case you were wondering, the minhag Yisrael for many centuries has been to make tombstones for all graves, even those of tzadikim. See Iggros Moshe YD 4:57 for an explanation of the current practice.
Letter from Zahava to James Lapin (Shani's Kidney Donor)
Dear Mr. Lapin,
On behalf of my brothers and I, I would like to extend Hakaras Hatov to you. Although
words cannot adequately express how grateful we are to you, I would like to try.
I would firstly like to tell you a little bit about the wonderful person you are helping. Our mother has been sick for a great part of my childhood. And although she was always visiting doctors, passing kidney stones, taking medications causing her hair to thin, face and legs to swell up, she was never our "sick" mother. She made our lives and herself as normal as any other. We never really knew if she was not feeling well or too tired to cook dinner, drive carpool, take us shopping, and everything else a mother does. She did not want her children to have that burden, and we truly did not. Not only however is she not a "sick" mother but she is the most giving, loving mother to us. My mother is honestly my best friend. Now that I am a mother myself I am grateful to have such a great role model to guide me. My mother is not only an amazing mother to us but she is as dedicated to her grandchildren. "Savti" is a vital part of our children's lives. With her amazing enthusiasm she is constantly showering them with love, attention, and of course presents! With your gift we look forward to having her continue to guide us with her love and wisdom for many more years to come.
Besides for being a special mother, she is simply a very special woman. Throughout my life I have met friends, acquaintances, and strangers all telling me different stories demonstrating my mother's kindness and sensitivity. She is always involved in helping others. She is a real sweetheart. I don't really think my words can capture her character. But I would like you to know that she is very special.
Once again I would like to thank you. It takes an extraordinary, selfless, kind person to do such a tremendous chesed. I would also like to thank your family, especially your wife for supporting you in this undertaking. As a wife and mother I can only imagine the inner strength necessary to be part of such an endeavor. Everyday when I daven for the health of my mother and family I also pray for you. I wish you a full and speedy recovery.
Thank you again,
Zahava Goldberg
On behalf of my brothers and I, I would like to extend Hakaras Hatov to you. Although
words cannot adequately express how grateful we are to you, I would like to try.
I would firstly like to tell you a little bit about the wonderful person you are helping. Our mother has been sick for a great part of my childhood. And although she was always visiting doctors, passing kidney stones, taking medications causing her hair to thin, face and legs to swell up, she was never our "sick" mother. She made our lives and herself as normal as any other. We never really knew if she was not feeling well or too tired to cook dinner, drive carpool, take us shopping, and everything else a mother does. She did not want her children to have that burden, and we truly did not. Not only however is she not a "sick" mother but she is the most giving, loving mother to us. My mother is honestly my best friend. Now that I am a mother myself I am grateful to have such a great role model to guide me. My mother is not only an amazing mother to us but she is as dedicated to her grandchildren. "Savti" is a vital part of our children's lives. With her amazing enthusiasm she is constantly showering them with love, attention, and of course presents! With your gift we look forward to having her continue to guide us with her love and wisdom for many more years to come.
Besides for being a special mother, she is simply a very special woman. Throughout my life I have met friends, acquaintances, and strangers all telling me different stories demonstrating my mother's kindness and sensitivity. She is always involved in helping others. She is a real sweetheart. I don't really think my words can capture her character. But I would like you to know that she is very special.
Once again I would like to thank you. It takes an extraordinary, selfless, kind person to do such a tremendous chesed. I would also like to thank your family, especially your wife for supporting you in this undertaking. As a wife and mother I can only imagine the inner strength necessary to be part of such an endeavor. Everyday when I daven for the health of my mother and family I also pray for you. I wish you a full and speedy recovery.
Thank you again,
Zahava Goldberg
Monday, July 1, 2013
Esther's Recollections
It’s six am and of course I can’t sleep. I’m in Texarkana so somehow the events of the past 24 hours don’t seem real to me yet. I am thinking back over forty-four years. I remember as if it were yesterday the carefree days of high school where three girls met and became best friends. Shani-Chani-Esther; I didn't fit the rhyme scheme but still we were as one.
How can I describe Shani in those days? I can show you pictures but still you won’t understand; so blonde, so beautiful, so full of fun and life and laughter. We were all so innocent and naive and blissfully unaware of life’s hardships that were to come. I guess that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Shani was the first of us to get engaged, get married and have a child. Mendy said she was his childhood sweetheart. He was head over heels in love with her then and always.
Cutting school when Shani’s parents were on vacation-- hanging out at her house, going to Coney Island, to the movies, to Kings Plaza—and never getting caught.
Wearing a path thin between our houses walking to visit each other every Shabbos.
Learning about “life” from Shani’s more worldly next door neighbor Audrey.
Shani arriving late one night to show off her sparkling new engagement ring.
Shopping for gowns our first time as bridesmaids.
Shani newly pregnant at my wedding.
Elie’s bris in a snowstorm.
David’s Bar Mitzvah again in a snowstorm.
How can I describe Shani in those days? I can show you pictures but still you won’t understand; so blonde, so beautiful, so full of fun and life and laughter. We were all so innocent and naive and blissfully unaware of life’s hardships that were to come. I guess that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Shani was the first of us to get engaged, get married and have a child. Mendy said she was his childhood sweetheart. He was head over heels in love with her then and always.
Certain images flash through my mind:
Cutting school when Shani’s parents were on vacation-- hanging out at her house, going to Coney Island, to the movies, to Kings Plaza—and never getting caught.
Wearing a path thin between our houses walking to visit each other every Shabbos.
Learning about “life” from Shani’s more worldly next door neighbor Audrey.
Shani arriving late one night to show off her sparkling new engagement ring.
Shopping for gowns our first time as bridesmaids.
Shani newly pregnant at my wedding.
Elie’s bris in a snowstorm.
David’s Bar Mitzvah again in a snowstorm.
We shared each other’s good times--children being born, Bar Mitzvahs, Bat Mitzvahs, weddings, grandchildren; and we sustained each other during the hard times.
Shani was sick for so many years but her illness did not define who she was; she wouldn't let it. She fiercely protected her children from her reality because that was what felt right to her. A mom should be a nurturer and not a burden to her kids. Shani taught us all lessons in courage and bravery. Not even those closest to her knew the extent of her daily pain and suffering. If you asked her how she was she would deflect you with an upbeat answer. She was always okay. You had to really press her to get a semblance of the truth and I believe she only shared that with a select few. During all the trials of endless hospitalizations, surgeries, and close to the brink experiences, we always believed Shani would persevere. How could it be otherwise? Her will to live was so strong that we thought she was invincible, and in truth how could we go on without her? As Chani said, she feels like she lost a limb. I guess that’s how it feels when you lose one of your best friends.
Shani was sick for so many years but her illness did not define who she was; she wouldn't let it. She fiercely protected her children from her reality because that was what felt right to her. A mom should be a nurturer and not a burden to her kids. Shani taught us all lessons in courage and bravery. Not even those closest to her knew the extent of her daily pain and suffering. If you asked her how she was she would deflect you with an upbeat answer. She was always okay. You had to really press her to get a semblance of the truth and I believe she only shared that with a select few. During all the trials of endless hospitalizations, surgeries, and close to the brink experiences, we always believed Shani would persevere. How could it be otherwise? Her will to live was so strong that we thought she was invincible, and in truth how could we go on without her? As Chani said, she feels like she lost a limb. I guess that’s how it feels when you lose one of your best friends.
My Friend Shani (by Gittie Farkas)
My Friend Shani
For four years of high school, Shani sat behind me in class. A for Alster, B for Beer. We had loads of fun, and got into tons of trouble. I was always the instigator, but Shani was always up for a good time. Our friendship endured for the 44 years since that first day in class. It started in high school, and continued through college years, our marriages, children and grandchildren. We couldn't wait to share the news with each other when one of us had a new grandchild. We didn't see each other often because of physical distance, but when we spoke every few weeks it was if we lived next door to each other. Shani had closer friends than me, but none who loved her more.
As you've heard over and over, her life was her family. She was so incredibly proud of her children, and so madly in love with each and every one of her grandchildren. Her Mendy was her childhood sweetheart, her Prince and her Protector. That he saved and extended her life many times over, we are all aware. But it's the quality of life that he provided her that deserves the credit. Nothing was too good for her, no vacation out of reach.
I haven't stopped crying since we lost her, but I've come to realize that I'm not crying for her. She is finally pain free and doesn't have to put on a brave face for all those around her. I am crying for me, and for all of you, and our tremendous loss. She represented to me all that was goodness, kindness and loyalty in a person. To some, that might sound melodramatic, but to anyone who knew Shani it is an understatement and an inspiration. Over the years, there were many incidents with people we knew, and you never heard a judgmental word out of her.
She believed the best of everyone, and in turn everyone loved her for it.
Shani you will be sorely missed, and I promise never forgotten.
Much love,
Gittie
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