Simchas Torah: We Are All Angels

Last year I was in Chicago for Simchas Torah. Standing on the balcony at my shul, I witnessed a member of our community hand over the Torah he was dancing with to another man. This simple action touched me because I know both men and I know that both of them suffered greatly from the same pain: the pain of losing a child in their lifetime. 

While both deaths were sudden and painful, I was astounded to see the look of joy both men wore. It was obvious neither of them carried any grudges or burdens. It was clear that their nisayon did not get the better of them, that they still loved Hashem in His Torah. 

So later that night (or the next day, I don't actually remember), I wrote this poem:

I look around me and see

A group of men

Circling around the bimah

Clutching sifrie torah and children

Eyes closed and bodies swaying

Praying from a place

Of joy and intensity

Expressing their love for Hashem

And His torah

I look closer and I see

That one lost his job

That one lost his child

That one lost his wife

But no one thinks of the pain

And the hurt and anger

It’s all been swept away

Because in this moment

It’s all about connection

Happiness and life

I look down at the men dancing

And I don’t see a group of men

Instead I see

A group of angels 

One of my friends read this and responded, "that's beautiful, but what about everyone else who didn't experience one of these things? What about them?"

My initial thought ("They are donkeys, but they are like the donkey of Pinchas ben Yair") was a joke, and one that I did not think my friend would find amusing. So I didn't answer her email and didn't answer her question.

But it stayed with my for a while. And a year later, I found my answer.

Because this year I was standing on a shul balcony in Ohr Samayach, watching the men dance. Most of them were ba'ali teshuva and what I saw was drastically different than my experiences from home. Someone was wearing a purple suit, someone else was somersaulting across the room and one of the bachurim who lead a song didn't even know how to read Hebrew.

But the joy in the room...the joy.

As I looked from behind the mechitzah, my forehead pressed against the wooden panels, I realized we are all angels, if we chose to be. No, we don't have to go through something as horrendous as losing a child (may it be Hashem's will that no one will have to again). But that doesn't mean we all experienced some kind of personal pain or loss either. It doesn't matter what we went through and who went through the worst, it only matters that we chose connection despite what hurt us. It doesn't matter if we were raised frum or became frum later in life. It matter that we dance with joy. It matters that we chose Hashem, that we recognize He didn't give us mindless suffering, He gave us medicine to heal our impatience, anger, sense of entitlement etc. He gave us life. 

This Simchas Torah I learned that we don't need to be great because we went through something "totally and completely and utterly terrible" and despite that we still love. Whatever we experienced in life is our own experience and although we think we can externally compare our pain and struggle to someone else's we can't. In fact, we shouldn't because it really doesn't matter at all. We all go through tough times, whether we deem is to be a "simple" hard time or a turbulent one. 

 This Simchas Torah I learned that we are great because we still love, no complications about it.