Thanks to Flu B, Ari is home again today. I’ve canceled a medical procedure, meetings, workouts, and most of my writing time. But there was something on my calendar that I planned to show up to today — no matter what. At 11:30 AM EDT, I planned to stop what I was doing to join in the Sh’ma with Jews around the world.
Why today?
Today is the Fast of Esther, a minor fasting day (I’ve never observed it.) that precedes the joyous holiday of Purim. A prayer assembly and mass recitation of the Shema Yisrael prayer were held at the Western Wall. Jews worldwide were encouraged to stop what they were doing at their local time, which corresponded to 5:30 PM IDT, to unite for the safe return of hostages.
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I haven’t written much about the October 7th Massacre on this blog. However, not a day goes by when it isn’t at the top of my mind.
It’s been challenging for us, as parents, to talk about what happened on October 7th with our children. We’ve censored the news as much as possible. Yes, they know there were innocent people taken as hostages. No, they don’t know how they were ripped from their homes and concert site or what’s happened to them since they were taken 167 days ago. I could point out how we’ve done this, but I don’t want to. Trust me when I say it’s been challenging to parent developmentally appropriately through these times.
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Ari was home. I explained to Ari why I planned to stop my day at 11:30 AM in the most appropriate way possible. After I explained, we tuned into the prayer service from the Western Wall. It was a Hebrew broadcast from the men’s side of the Wall. Therefore, I went to the UJA-Federation of New York‘s livestream on Facebook, where we tuned into Rabbi Menachem Creditor’s broadcast from New York City.
Rabbi Creditor asked those in the room and those watching from home to rise for the recitation of the Shema. I was shocked when Ari stood from his place at the kitchen table, without prompting, where he was eating his first food of the day. It’s traditional to close one’s eyes when reciting the Sh’ma so you can concentrate. That’s when I heard my son’s small voice reciting the prayer beside me. I blinked back tears at the end of the prayer and encouraged him to sit. He didn’t. He stood by my side, listening to Rabbi Creditor speak for a few more minutes before concluding with Hatikvah, Israel’s national anthem that translates the hope.
In those quiet moments, I realized the significance of what had just happened. Despite the disruptions caused by illness, this time of global Jewish unity unfolded in a way I could have never anticipated. The cancellation of plans and the rearrangement of schedules had led me to this very moment, where Ari stood beside me, joining his voice with Jews across the globe.
Raising Literate Humans 
This is beautiful! Praying with a large group, is alway sa special experience for me and if I’d known in advance I would have joined in today. This is all made even more special because you were able to share it with Ari.
That’s really kind of you, Lisa. Thank you.
What a beautiful, powerful moment. I write with tears in my eyes and a prayer in my heart.
What a beautiful moment with Ari, and so beautifully captured in your writing.
It is so challenging to parent in difficult moments. I remember my kids were in 4th and 7th grade on 9/11. It was everything I could do to shield them from the news and the constant awful videos.
October 7th was horrible beyond words. I’m glad you were able to share in this moment of prayer and peace. Sending positive thoughts your way.
I know this post was hard to write:
However, I hope writing it helped you process all of these sentiments. I think Ari’s choice to rise and participate demonstrates that you’re on the right path with how you’ve dealt with all of this so far. Thank you for sharing. We see you.
Goosebumps came as I read how Ari joined you in this moment. The joy and peace that comes as we see our children join us in these times of struggle. It is a wonderful I will never forget as my children grew and understood the importance of these times. Bless you and your family!
What a wonderful moment with your son. I have no words.
Thank you for sharing this faithful, spiritual moment with us. I appreciate how you were able to build background knowledge for your readers without losing the narrative flow that makes the story so powerful. Thank you for teaching me, and for bringing me into your parenting, too.
Thank you for sharing this, Stacey. I know it is hard to write about this tragedy, this ongoing horror. Your one simple line, “He stood by my side” moved me to tears – this is how we get through this time, together, in love, our families and community holding each other up. What a beautiful image, your son standing there alongside you, deep in prayer.
I am not often brought to tears by SOL posts. This time I was. It is clear you have fostered an understanding of the gravity of a horrid situation as well as a compassionate child who sees life as far greater than his own Flu. You are, I am sure, as you should be, proud.
Oh, I am *so* glad I circled back to this one. I literally got tears in my eyes as you narrated Ari standing up and *saying the prayer* – it just gave me shivers again. What a powerful moment of community; what a testament to you & Marc’s ability to allow your children to grow up knowing that Judaism is a beautiful, important part of who they are. I am, in a way, so glad he had the flu.