For Shavuot - A Memory and a Poem
For the holiday of Shavuot, AJL President Susan Dubin wanted to share a family tradition and poem she wrote about the holiday and what it means to her:
I share the book The 11th Commandment and have the children share their own 11th commandment. I also have written several poems that I am happy to share about the story of Ruth:
Orpah
I am alone now.
My husband is dead.
My father-in-law is also gone, as is my husband's brother.
But still I had you, Mother Naomi, and Ruth, my sister.
I know I am not the daughter of your flesh,
But you are the mother of my heart.
I did not share parents with you, Ruth,
But you are my chosen sibling.
And now you, too, must go.
So, I am truly alone.
I cannot come with you like my sister Ruth.
It is not because I love you less, Mother.
My home is not in Israel.
My people are not the children of Jacob.
My god is not the God of Abraham.
I would be a stranger in your land.
When you have returned to your home, Mother,
Will you remember me?
I knew happiness with your son.
He loved me, and I loved him.
If he had lived, I would still be your daughter.
My children would be part of your household.
But you have left me in my own land.
I will never see your face again.
For this I weep.
Good-bye, Naomi.
Your Moabite daughter will sing your praises now and forever.
Good-bye, Ruth.
Hold the memory of your Moabite sister in your heart.
Ruth
When I said that I would follow you,
I did not know where we would go.
I did not know who we would meet.
I did not know.
When I said that I would be one with your people,
I did not know how different our life would be.
I did not know how bitter you would become.
I did not know.
When I said that I would accept your God,
I did not know if your God would accept me.
I did not know if I could truly believe.
I did not know.
Now I know that when my husband died my life was not over.
Now I know that love can be mine again.
Now I know that happiness still awaits me.
Now I know.
Your people have shown me kindness and compassion.
Your kinsman has accepted my love.
Now I am a daughter of Israel even though I was born a stranger.
Now I am home.
Naomi
How can I welcome this bride of my son?
She is not of my people.
She is not of my land.
And yet, she has been a faithful wife.
She has been a devoted daughter.
If she comes with me,
I will have to care for her.
I am afraid that my shriveled heart
Cannot make room for her devotion.
She claims that she desires only to make my people hers,
My home, her home,
My G-d, her G-d.
But what if she grows lonely for her own people,
Her own land, her own G-D?
I know not what awaits me in Bethlehem.
Maybe all she wants is my mother-love.
But I am a bitter woman
Who dares not promise anything.
If she leaves me, I will truly have nothing.
Can her daughter-love sweeten my sour soul?
