Ukraine – The Tree of Life

Taanis Esther 5783

“‘Think not with thyself that thou shalt escape in the king’s house, more than all the Jews. For if thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, then will relief and deliverance arise to the Jews from another place, but thou and thy father’s house will perish; and who knoweth whether thou art not come to royal estate for such a time as this?’” – Esther 4:13-14, JPS 1917 Tanach

“There is no man who has not his hour, and no thing that has not its place.” – Pirkei Avos 4:3

Esther petitioned King Ahasuerus to spare her people. She, her maidens, and the Jewish people fasted for three days, before she approached the King. She was risking her life, in doing so, because, no one could approach the king without permission. Yet, she was emboldened to approach him, after fasting, with all of her people in support of her.

Queen Esther was given her moment: “who knoweth whether thou art not come to royal estate for such a time as this?” H’Shem arranges the remedy, before the sickness (Talmud). Esther was made queen, before Haman hatched his plan to eliminate the Jewish people. Thank G-d. And, may we also see hidden remedies revealed as miracles, speedily in our days.

Ultimately, we have H’Shem to seek as a refuge, both then and now; we should not take His shield of protection for granted; our refuge and fortress in Whom we trust (Psalm 91:2). We should seek Him in all of our trials and tribulations, keeping in mind that He is the Source of our well-being. Especially, at this time to remember our brothers and sisters in peril, is an obligation and responsibility of K’lal Yisrael.

Yom HaShoah 5782 – In Memory of

“Then he said to me: ‘Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel; they say: Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are clean cut off. Therefore, prophecy, and say to them: Thus saith the L-rd G-D: Behold, I will open your graves, and cause you to come up out of your graves, O My people; and I will bring you into the land of Israel.” – Ezekiel 37:11-12. JPS 1917 Tanach

Bolechov martyrs from my family:

Chaim ben Yaakov (Schnee):

Elka Schnee (nee Fasberg)

Gitel bas Chaim

Isaac ben Chaim

Sarah bas Chaim

Sason ben Chaim

Yaakov ben Chaim

Melamed

Sosie bas Chaim

Joseph ben Melamed

Chaje Ruchel bas Chaim

~~~~~ ~~~~~

Yehoshua Mordechai ben Yaakov (Schnee):

Ziona Schnee (nee Weisbard)

Moses ben Yehoshua Mordechai

Chana Schnee (nee Turkel)

Yaakov ben Moses

Celina bas Moses

Tzila bas Moses

Israel ben Yehoshua Mordechai (Schnee)

Sorke Schnee (nee Goldfischer)

Aryeh ben Israel

Tzinah bas Israel

Basia bas Yehoshua Mordechai (Kornblitz, nee Schnee)

Gotshalk ben Basia

Hirsch Ber Tzvi Dov ben Yehoshua Mordechai

Kalman ben Yehoshua Mordechai

Esther bas Yehoshua Mordechai

Reisel bas Yehoshua Mordechai

note: Certain genealogical information set forth herein is based upon research performed on the website of Jewish Records Indexing-Poland, Inc. (www.jri-poland.org).

Hope Surfaces

Hope, is the mainstay of my life

and the fruition of my thoughts.

Hope, will outweigh the strife

that weighs heavily upon my heart.

Hope, the champion of the future,

a prelude to ultimate victory.

Hope, is enough to suture

the wounds inflicted by misery.

Hope, will mend the broken fragments

of a life unduly shattered.

Hope, will diminish the lament

of those whose clothes are tattered.

Hope, designed to stich each patch

and sew together the unraveled strands.

Hope, will help to gather all who are lost,

like collecting so many grains of sand.

Hope, will meld with faith,

bridging the gap in between.

Hope obtained, will never fade,

always realizing the dream.

Ukrainian Blues

The surrounding countryside of Kiev, and other cities, such as Lviv, and even my own ancestral hometown, Bolekhiv, are quiet in the night, while the Russians prepare their next attempts to maneuver their positions, to be in alignment with their next forward march into the fray. By now, they know that they will continue to meet with resistance from the Ukrainian defenders. These are not nationalists, like the propaganda espoused by the Putin regime would have it known; rather, these are loyal citizens of a country that has been trying to gain its complete freedom for decades. True, it was Ukrainian nationalists in the midst of WW2, who were no friends of the Jewish population in Bolechov, Poland in 1939, when the Soviets retreated. However, the current generation of Ukrainians are not responsible for the sins of their ancestors.

After WW2, my ancestral hometown fell in under the new lines of demarcation, designating the city as Bolekhiv in the newly established boundaries of Soviet Ukraine. And, now, 58 years later, and, incidentally, fifty-eight miles south of Lviv, I wonder how far the smoldering torches of war have receded, or perhaps impeded upon the place where the graves of my ancestors rest. Of course, most of them, were actually buried in either one of two mass graves. The first, 7 km outside of Bolechov (now, Bolekhiv) in Tarnipol. The other, hastily made grave in the actual cemetery. This cemetery is the best preserved Jewish cemetery in Europe. I have always wanted to visit, since I “found” my ancestors through genealogical research. And, now, How am I to do so? Ultimately, if am able to do so in the future, will I be entering Ukraine, or Soviet-controlled Ukraine?

My ancestors souls,

transcend earthly boundaries,

knowing only peace.

Let Faith Reign

And there’s a slow, slow train comin’ up around the bend.
Slow Train, by Bob Dylan

When society is upended,

and people are tormented,

take heart in your faith,

don’t let your soul go to waste;

there will be a slow train

coming around the bend.

Let faith reign in your heart,

don’t pretend to play the part,

when the mind is sincere,

and the pathway is clear,

there will be a slow train

on the tracks ready to start.

Let’s dare not be hesitant,

when opportunity prevails, take that first step,

look, the passenger door is open,

these tired souls that appear to be broken,

will be renewed on the slow train,

moving along the tracks.

Hidden Lives

From deep within a heart of stone,

lies the essence of a kernel, soon to bloom.

Behind these stony faces, tears run dry,

emotions hidden inside the outer shell,

where hope mixes with fear, and a suppressed cry.

The seedling will soon sprout,

when watered by tears of joy;

then, this plant will blossom in the sunshine,

of a new day, when faith reigns,

in the hearts of once lifeless ruins.

The stones from where the seedlings thrived,

will break away to reveal what was hidden inside –

people stepping out from beneath the earth,

to greet the sunrise with all that they are worth.

No more concealed in the basements below;

now, blessed to watch the sun’s glow.

Heaven Is Still Waiting

Living in the belly of the beast,

rising up from the vacant grave,

reaching towards the light from the East,

an angel from Heaven appears,

with a mission to save.

Crying out from a land of tears,

dying to ourselves every day,

casting away all of our fears,

gaining ground over the years,

as the enemy retreats the other way.

Opening up to the possibility,

of hope becoming permanently ingrained,

indelible as ink, on a deed of civility,

or the silver lining of a cloud,

that is translucent with sunbeams.

The sunflowers in the land of the living,

sway in tune with a heavenly chorus of angels,

and a myriad of people singing

the refrain of the song of Moses,

shining like golden bells.

Butterflies

Amongst the fields of sunflowers,

dreaming in the winds of change,

butterflies roam, partaking of the nectar.

Sweet dreams interrupted by a shift

in the pleasant breezes,

accompanied by dark clouds.

Nectar runs dry, and petals wilt,

as the resting places

of the fragile two-winged creatures,

disappear from the fields.

How many Ukrainian refugees,

who have taken flight,

from the devastation,

will be blessed with a new beginning,

in faraway places, where safety resides,

miles away from their homes?

My ancestors, with prescient insight,

migrated across the Atlantic Ocean,

before the flames of the Shoah

engulfed Bolechov, and took the lives

of those who remained in the shtetl.

Ghosts of the past cry out,

Release me, into the wind,

so that our memories

will not be forgotten.

Memories and Current Events

My recent poems have been written,

primarily in response to the Ukraine war.

Feeling, recently, that the tides of change

cannot be explained any further,

nor rearranged into coherent descriptions,

I sought to refrain from this endeavor.

Yet, my heart is overflowing,

teeming with complex emotions,

and my pen, figuratively speaking,

is writing (typing out) words again,

in response to the internal reservoir,

of all that remains to be said.

My muse? Ineffable, for He Knows all,

and is above and beyond all muses.

So, redeemed, is each word that I reckon,

as not my own, rather, from deep within,

a pool of reflection, tinged with a conscience,

and a consciousness, stemming

from the part of mankind’s soul,

that is connected to the Divine.

In addition to all this, I do not know

how I can even factor into the equation,

that Bolekhiv, my ancestral hometown,

is fifty-eight miles south of Lviv,

where several dozen of my relatives

were buried in mass graves,

during the Shoah.

Purim: Taanis Esther 5782

“There is no man who has not his hour, and no thing that has not its place.” – Pirkei Avos 4:3