Seven Days- Part IV
Saturday had finally arrived, meaning that the sheva for Joshua's brother was now halfway over. For the only time throughout this entire ordeal, the fox could finally leave his late brother's ram-shackle house for the beauty of the outdoors, which given the surroundings- the typical mild winter of Florida in late-November would feel refreshing after three days in this cramped shack. But before the fox could leave, Joshua had received word on the telephone that he would be receiving one more guest before the afternoon services at Temple Beth Shalom would start. So, once again, he would resume his tiresome post at the front of the door waiting for a family member to come and send their condolences. It seemed strange that Chad's sister would also be mourning for her father, considering how she admitted over the phone, she never really knew.
Sure enough, there came the knock on the door, and a fox-tigress hybrid appeared with movie star good looks in spite (or maybe because of) her mixed upbringing. There was something that radiated about her young body, something attractive and exotic that a younger male would find irresistible. Joshua was married and this was neither the time nor the place. As per the requisite cutting of the cloth seemed like such a shame to be performed on a black silk taffeta that defined class but Joshua did as he was instructed by centuries of Jewish funerary tradition ("We can always get that re-sown") and said the customary mourner's greeting before they went into the sitting room which had already seen three other guests so far.
"My name is Miriam," the mixed-breed responded, an interesting Hebrew name given to a woman who Joshua believed, might have had no way of knowing who her father was until the very end of his life. "I can't say I honestly knew my father, though I did attend the funeral and was fascinated by the traditions. Could you be so kind as to tell me a little more about him? You are his brother, after all..."
And then the guilt came cascading down once more when Joshua was forced to admit that in spite of the fraternal bond he and David shared, he was just as clueless about his brother's daily struggles as his daughter-in-law was. The shame that he took in his own neglect had not stopped in three days and Joshua knew that he would be a dead fox before that shame would finally end.
"Well, I don't think you're a bad person- you just lost sight of the things which matter in life. More than money, or cars, or luxurious homes. And I think we're all a bit guilty of that," the answer raised Joshua's eyebrows, as he was unprepared for such a comment. "What exactly do you mean by that statement?"
"I was once like my brother- ignorant, hate-filled, conceited. As you might expect from someone raised by a single mother, there were needs that needed to be filled by a strong male in my life, in absence of my father. My mother, out of anger, withheld my father's identity from me- she thought David had used her and I'm sure my brother's anti-Semitic feelings can be traced to her. But I've forgiven her... and there is still room in my heart to forgive Dad as well."
Joshua was perplexed and amazed in the difference in behavior between the son-in-law he never knew and the daughter-in-law who sought out her heritage. Miriam was so well-behaved and kind that at first he could not believe her report that she at one point felt the same way her brother, Chad, currently serving a jail sentence for armed attempted robbery and vandalism, did.
"Life was very frustrating for us and we were also very poor, as you might have guessed. My brother and mother gave into despair and just accepted the fact that we would live in poverty, waiting for opportunities to arise- they never would. But I sought out knowledge; first, I found out that my father was indeed, Jewish. My family really did not have any faith at all in anyone or anything. Realizing the spiritual void in my own life, I took to the Jewish faith and that has made a huge difference," she continued.
Adjusting his jacket for a moment, Joshua listened intently to his daughter-in-law's story before asking Miriam yet more questions "So you say it's made a difference- how do you reckon that?"
"Well, Mr. Kleiner, Judaism was my inspiration in life, when things looked dark. There is no reason why I shouldn't have hated my father for abandoning his wife, my mother and leaving Chad and me to fend for ourselves. But there was something telling me he wasn't a wretched man. My brother only saw fear in those who practiced your faith but I saw hope. Hope that all members of creation can be reconciled to God in spite of our sins." She reached down the neck of her garment to pull out a Star of David she had been wearing underneath. "Mr. Kleiner, I worked so hard to triumph in spite of the circumstances- I'm in college now and gainfully employed, too. But I still feel a longing, I want to learn more of your faith- take me to the temple."
Joshua had never intended to take a guest with him to the Shabbat services, and he was not sure of how the Orthodox temple would react to seeing someone new at their services but how could he refuse a sincere request from his daughter-in-law, researching her own father's past. And she had come dressed for the occasion. It took Joshua some time to decide but ultimately he came to the conclusion there was always room for one more at the synagogue. He arrived at the temple with her, telling her along the mile-long walk the differences between the three schools of Judaism and how people might look at her differently because she was new. "Sit next to my mother and wife in the female section and let me explain everything after the service is done." As soon as the two found their seats in separate areas (Orthodox temples are bisected into "male" and "female" sections), the service began, with the traditional songs and praises, all in Hebrew. The sermon was in English, delivered by a wolf wearing the traditional black coat and felt fedora of a Hasid, with a blue-and-white tallit draped beneath his coat.
"We come here today, members of all species but united in a common goal of tikkun olam. And how may we achieve that goal?"
A voice from the male side of the room rose." We are to love one another and show kindness to all living things. We can repair the world that way."
"Correct, Mr. Rabinowitz. We are not to be an insular community, allowing in only people who we know but to show kindness and compassion to all. We are as our books say, the light to the goyim, the light to the nations. That is as much responsibility as it is privilege," he paused, to give the congregation time to reflect.
"The recent passing of David Kleiner, a beloved vulpine member of this synagogue, brought many of us to tears. Here was a man who we had seen collapse before our very eyes; all his intelligence and strength were rendered as naught by a debilitating disease sadly common to those like Mr. Kleiner. His progeny includes a Gentile family, who have as much a right, probably more so to mourn as we do. There might be foreigners in our midst but as the kohanim were instructed, when a stranger comes to our land, we are not to mistreat him- or her." And Miriam knew that the rabbi could only be referring to her, heading off the many concerned stares she received from the other members of the congregation.
"The need to mourn one's family is not unique to any one nationality or religious group- I would like us to comfort the young woman who came here to mourn after the service is over and the other members of the family, who are suffering in their loss. And I would like us to open the hymnals to a more modern song called "Mi Shebeirach"- a song written for the very purpose of mending the broken heart and the broken body. After which the service is over." And as he had finished speaking, all members of the congregation joined their paws together and started singing, led first by the baritone of the cantor and then by the congregation as a whole.
Mi shebeirach i'motei nu. M'kor habrach l'avotei nu. May the source of strength which blessed the ones before us bless the ones we love. And help us find the courage to make our lives a blessing- and let us say "Amen."
As the congregation sang, Joshua reflected on how much he had missed going to temple- in his obsession for selling real estate and acquiring new materials and wealth, he had forgotten about the things which really do matter in life. And as for Miriam, the hybrid fox-tiger who had spent so much of her time wondering about who her father really was, this whole experience was edifying. She had been practicing the faith alone and with no support group whatsoever but now, for the first time, she could see that there were others, who cared enough about what she was going through. The outside world was beckoning and soon enough, Joshua would rejoin his friends no longer bound to spend every moment in mourning for his brother. But even as he walked away with Miriam back to his temporary prison and bid her farewell, Joshua knew there were other serious things which must be done. The lesson was still not complete.