I’ve put the Middle East on hold!
On Sunday night my niece Rochelle Engel died.
I mourn her death, a death that defies reason and can't be explained by any rationale.
When we stood by her grave on Monday afternoon and someone read “El Malai Rahamim” (God Full of Mercy) I recalled Yehuda Amichai’s poem
If God was not full of mercy,
Mercy would have been in the world,
Not just in Him.
I, who plucked flowers in the hills
And looked down into all the valleys,
I, who brought corpses down from the hills,
Can tell you that the world is empty of mercy.
I, who was King of Salt at the seashore,
Who stood without a decision at my window,
Who counted the steps of angels,
Whose heart lifted weights of anguish
In the horrible contests.
I, who use only a small part
Of the words in the dictionary.
I, who must decipher riddles
I don't want to decipher,
Know that if not for the God-full-of-mercy
There would be mercy in the world,
Not just in Him.
I thumb through my album of images to later on when the family moved to Sde Nitzan, the high school years and her army service. Then the trips overseas, her marriage to Amir, motherhood and her home in Tel Adashim. Rochelle remained almost unchanged. She never lost her special sense of humour, her wry intonated style of speech. I still hear her lilting greeting when we met, that inimitable "Uncle." . The blonde tresses should have bleached in the sun while she grazed their open range herd of cattle, but they didn’t. Instead they became a shade of golden flax. Later when her doctors diagnosed that she was ill with that dreadful disease we fear to mention by name she lost her flaxen hair. Like Samson in Gaza her hair grew back and those of us who hoped beyond hope that her strength was renewed and eventually a new treatment, some untried wonder drug or miracle working device would restore her health, we too succumbed to the awful reality that time was running out.
A few weeks ago Rochelle came to a family gathering at Ein Harod. We are quite a tribe! The northern branch at Ein Harod, Tel Adashim and Pardess Hana. A central offshoot in the greater Tel Aviv area and the southern branch at Sde Nitzan and Ein Habsor. Plus considerable extensions in Edmonton, Canada, London, UK, Australia and Auckland New Zealand.
Rochelle, her husband Amir and their five children were at the gathering, two of them are serving in the IDF. I noticed that Rochelle’s flaxen hair had grown a darker shade. For me she will remain the girl with the flaxen hair. Late Sunday afternoon we went to see her. I held her hand for the last time and looked into her eyes exchanging an unspoken goodbye. On the way home I thought of Claude Debussy’s prelude –"The girl with flaxen hair. “Critics claim that despite its technical and harmonic simplicity the work possesses emotional depth. While the images of my niece flashed through my mind’s eye the chords of Debussy’s haunting melody echoed an appropriate accompaniment. Rochelle the girl with the flaxen hair, we will never forget you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfQ5hOOLk1o
Beni 8th of October, 2009.
On Sunday night my niece Rochelle Engel died.
I mourn her death, a death that defies reason and can't be explained by any rationale.
When we stood by her grave on Monday afternoon and someone read “El Malai Rahamim” (God Full of Mercy) I recalled Yehuda Amichai’s poem
God Full of Mercy
If God was not full of mercy,
Mercy would have been in the world,
Not just in Him.
I, who plucked flowers in the hills
And looked down into all the valleys,
I, who brought corpses down from the hills,
Can tell you that the world is empty of mercy.
I, who was King of Salt at the seashore,
Who stood without a decision at my window,
Who counted the steps of angels,
Whose heart lifted weights of anguish
In the horrible contests.
I, who use only a small part
Of the words in the dictionary.
I, who must decipher riddles
I don't want to decipher,
Know that if not for the God-full-of-mercy
There would be mercy in the world,
Not just in Him.
Translated from the Hebrew by Barbara and Benjamin Harshav
I thumb through my album of images to later on when the family moved to Sde Nitzan, the high school years and her army service. Then the trips overseas, her marriage to Amir, motherhood and her home in Tel Adashim. Rochelle remained almost unchanged. She never lost her special sense of humour, her wry intonated style of speech. I still hear her lilting greeting when we met, that inimitable "Uncle." . The blonde tresses should have bleached in the sun while she grazed their open range herd of cattle, but they didn’t. Instead they became a shade of golden flax. Later when her doctors diagnosed that she was ill with that dreadful disease we fear to mention by name she lost her flaxen hair. Like Samson in Gaza her hair grew back and those of us who hoped beyond hope that her strength was renewed and eventually a new treatment, some untried wonder drug or miracle working device would restore her health, we too succumbed to the awful reality that time was running out.
A few weeks ago Rochelle came to a family gathering at Ein Harod. We are quite a tribe! The northern branch at Ein Harod, Tel Adashim and Pardess Hana. A central offshoot in the greater Tel Aviv area and the southern branch at Sde Nitzan and Ein Habsor. Plus considerable extensions in Edmonton, Canada, London, UK, Australia and Auckland New Zealand.
Rochelle, her husband Amir and their five children were at the gathering, two of them are serving in the IDF. I noticed that Rochelle’s flaxen hair had grown a darker shade. For me she will remain the girl with the flaxen hair. Late Sunday afternoon we went to see her. I held her hand for the last time and looked into her eyes exchanging an unspoken goodbye. On the way home I thought of Claude Debussy’s prelude –"The girl with flaxen hair. “Critics claim that despite its technical and harmonic simplicity the work possesses emotional depth. While the images of my niece flashed through my mind’s eye the chords of Debussy’s haunting melody echoed an appropriate accompaniment. Rochelle the girl with the flaxen hair, we will never forget you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfQ5hOOLk1o
Beni 8th of October, 2009.
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