What If

My brother and sister and I used to ask 'what if's. A 'what if' is a question that is always hypothetical and usually far out. I think we would ask 'what if's because we were trying to figure out our parents, trying to find their boundaries. Mom and Dad would always answer seriously, thoughtfully, as if our 'what if' was the most natural question in world; as if everybody wondered about those things.

"What if the house was on fire? Would we go out into the street in our pajamas?"
("Yes.")
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"What if a bear was chasing you? Would you jump in a river full of piranhas?"
(We don't have piranhas here and anyway bears can swim.")
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On the Oregon coast there's a place where the water has carved a channel into the rocks called "the Devil's Churn". The waves break on the stone with such force that no man or vessel that washes in can survive. When I was a kid there was an overlook on a cliff directly above with only a lifesaver tied to a rope and a sign which read something like, "No jumping to aid people in the water!" It was thrilling to be so close to peril so absolute and final.


"What if I fell in?", I asked my dad, "Would you jump in to save me?"
"No", he answered, "there's no point in both of us dying."

Here's another "what if" question:
What if you were in Europe during the Holocaust and you were lucky enough to be a Gentile? Would you be willing to risk yourself to rescue Jews from the Nazis?

That's not a simple question. Those righteous gentiles that saved Jews not only endangered themselves, but also their families. There were some, not many, not enough, but there were a few. The best known is probably Corrie ten Boom, who together with her family help Jews escape the Nazis in Holland and eventually went with them to concentration camps when they got caught.

I can understand someone answering no to that question and can only wonder at the courage and moral conviction of those that risked, and often sacrificed, their lives and their families for the sake of Jews.

Once we were riding with mom. I asked her, "What if you were driving and on one side of the road there was a little boy and on the other side a dog and you couldn't stop. Who would you run over?"
"I'd run over the dog."
"Why?"
"Because the little boy has a soul and the dog doesn't."
"And if there was a little boy on one side and I was on the other?"
"I'd run over you", she said.
"Why?"
"Because one day I'll see you again in heaven."

I think I remember that because I was taken aback; when you're a kid you want to believe that mom's love is absolute and unconditional. But I learned something about my parents, that there were things they believe in that were/are worth more to them than life itself.

I believe that if my folks had been in Europe during the Holocaust, they would have helped Jews, even at the price of their family. I think that their morals, like those of the heroes that rescued Jews from the darkness of WWII, come from faith. The Torah says of Abraham that "he believed and it was counted him righteousness." (Gen. 15:6) A man can go all the way with his conscience when he believes that the final reckoning will be "up there" and not "down here".

Once on a family visit in Oregon we came once again to the "Devil's Churn". Today there's a railing there. I reminded dad of what he'd said there back then.
He didn't remember. "I suppose I was afraid that if I said that I'd save you, you'd get too close to the edge."
"So, tell me, what if I had fallen in," I asked him, "Would you have jumped in for me?"
He smiled.
"Fortunately, we'll never know."

Maayan's Killer Apartment in Jerusalem

My daughter Maayan lives in Jerusalem. She has an apartment with two flatmates on the fifth floor in Rechavia, a quiet neighborhood in the western part of the city. It's a thirty minute walk from the walls of the old city and has a view of the new city's skyline.

Maayan wasn't able to make it home for Shabbat, so on Thursday I took Saba Mel and Savta Pat for an overnight at her place.

I like going to Jerusalem because there's always something new. Jerusalem is like my room when I was a kid; cluttered with the streets making a trail between the odds and ends, brand new toys like the modern Calatrava lightrail bridge piled on top of old keepsakes like the Wailing Wall.


There's Maayan. She is on the balcony ajoining her room.







She's too busy with her mobile to notice me snooping around.










The flat has balconies facing three directions, but one they use for storage. Maayan was using a flatmate's Internet connection, but he got married and took the connection with him, so now she has to take her laptop out on the balcony off of their living room to try to find a wireless connection in the area. It's hard to see the screen in the direct sunlight, so Saba and Savta tried to help by providing shade.

I like the balcony off of her bedroom the best.

You can see the new Supreme Court Building and the Knesset, Israel's parliment, over the rooftops.























I woke before dawn and watched the morning paint the building opposite in gold and rose with sunlight.

A young woman's apartment is a fascinating place.
Maayan has a life, and I'm only a small part of it.

................................................................................................. I like seeing where she works.

I like watching her get ready to go out.















I'm not a city person, but I love Jerusalem. I think it's the only city I could live in. I love her color and history and her crazy mix of people.
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But what I love the most about Jerusalem is Maayan.

Not a Girl

Britney Spears: "Not a girl, not a yet woman ...."

Odelia: Abba, if you want to understand me, then listen to this song. It's all about me.

Abba: You're not a girl?

Odelia (knowingly): No

Abba: Okay, so the song is about me too. I'm not a girl.

Odelia (groaning): Not a girl, not YET a woman. Never mind!

Abba: ha ha

Britney Spears: "Not a girl, not yet a woman...."

Checklist

Maayan wanted to come home for Shabbat, but she has a big test on Sunday. She has to stay in Jerusalem and study. I understand. I know she wants to succeed, to get good marks.

Xiu says that if you don't succeed now, when you're young, you'll get left behind. She says the four words that make the blood of every student freeze, I can almost hear the panic in her voice….

"I am not ready."

What do we parents do to our kids? Does this pressure come from us? Do we have a list of things we demand of our children and simply want to check it off?

□ Career
□ Success
□ Money
□ Marriage
□ Grandchildren

Maybe we screwed up somewhere. Maybe we should have given them another list. Maybe it should be:

□ Love
□ Decency
□ Happiness
□ Contentment
□ Confidence

Maayan, Megan-Xiu, I have this to say to you. It's important to do your best, but your best is good enough. You won't get left behind if you choose the right boat.

Solomon in all his glory was never clothed like the wild flowers in spring; the sparrow doesn't plan its life or even its day, but every one is in the Father's eye. Seek Him first, and all the other things will be added unto you. He will send you the boat you need.

So here's your new checklist:

□ God

So good luck and give it all you got, but just keep in mind that you will never have these years again, no matter how high you climb.

Love, Abba

Imagine That

Mom was a girl during World War II; she was in the 3rd grade when it ended. My Grampa Dan and her uncles went off to war in the Pacific and returned only years later and uncle Sammy didn't come back at all. Mom must have imagined that war is a black hole where the men in her life disappeared, sometimes forever.

When I was a boy the war was a distant memory. In my imagination it was this great adventure with tanks and planes, like a Hollywood movie where the good guys win and with a happy end. Mom didn't like wars. She didn't care if little boys daydream about soldiers and guns and she wouldn't let us see war movies, so I watched The World at War, a documentary series on the public educational channel which was every bit as good as a war movie and the tanks and things blowing up were real.

I was about 12 years old when I saw an episode called "The Final Solution". I had never heard about the Holocaust. I was totally unprepared for what I would see the next hour. By the time it was done, I was in tears, horrified by what I had seen.

Even now I find it hard to imagine. I can't get my head around it. The deaths of the 3000 victims of 9/11 that shocked the world in 2001 was a slow day at Auschwitz.

It's hard to imagine how cheap human life was back then. How can human beings hate so much that they will kill people they don't even know. I can't imagine monsters that can kill without anger, hearts that are so frozen that they can't be moved even by the cries of babes.

I tried to imagine how big it was. I thought that if I put 6,000,000 dots on my blog, it would be possible to imagine the Holocaust. I pressed on the period button, and when I had 1000 dots I copied and pasted until I had 10,000, and then copied and pasted until I had 100,000 and so on. Finally I had 6,000,000 dots, more than 500 pages on a word document. Copying that took several minutes, and then I tried pasting on my blog.

My computer stopped functioning. The cursor wouldn't move. I couldn't close Explorer. I had to restart in order to use the computer again. I guess that six million dots are too much for a computer to imagine.

And you think about it; that each dot is a life, someone that was a whole world that loved people and was loved by people, and each one disappeared forever into a black hole.

If six million is too much for a computer, if there is a face and a name and a life for each dot, how do you imagine that?