1.
What would you answer if you were asked what the climax of the forty days that begin on Rosh Chodesh Elul and end on Yom Kippur is? What is the most sublime moment? Where are we closest to God?
I assume one will say that in "all the vows" of the Yom Kippur holiday. The second will mention the closing prayer. The third will talk about the blowing of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah. The fourth about "and we will be successful" and the fifth about the "order of work." And all are true. It's all in the eyes of the worshiper.
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But one of the highlights of this month is right at the beginning. In fact, on its first day: the 1st of Elul. Or a few days later, on September 1. Depending on which education system your children are in. The first few days of the school year are steeped in heartfelt prayers.
Two and a half million children are returning to school, and millions of parents are praying for them.
True, we don't have a menstrual period in hand, the Ark of the Covenant is not open, we are not fasting, but I wish we were blessed with such simple and pure intention in the prayers of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, to truly speak with God, as in the moments when we send our children to the education system.
2.
The famous saying goes that "there are no atheists in the trenches," meaning that on the battlefield under shelling, even the greatest infidel prays from the bottom of his heart. It seems to me that even in these moments of sending a child off to school, everyone looks up to heaven. Everyone prays. Not just those who do it three times a day.
You can see this in Israeli culture too. Take the song that is played every year on September 1st, "As Long As," written by Eli Mohar and composed by Yoni Rechter: "A child walks down the street / On a bright morning of Tishrei / The children go to school again / Again they sing about the rain / Again they sing about autumn / And on the blackboard the letters of the script appear again.".
Okay, I won't write the entire charming chorus here with the ALF, BIAT, GIML, etc. until the end of the day. But pay attention to the following verses: "A man in the middle of the morning / A man in the heart of his life / By a school fence he stands alone / And he remembers that his father / Once followed him / He tries to hear the sound of his footsteps.".
So much for the moving nostalgic fondness for the days when his father took him to school. But look where Ali Mohar goes from here: "But the children still sing / A song about a spear and a stone / And even a man's lips whisper now / Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death / I will not fear / Even if I fall suddenly / My heart will say a song.".
Since this song was released, almost thirty years ago, and to this day, it has been the soundtrack to this time of the beginning of the school year. It is always there in the background, with the Uni-Richter piano playing and the sweet children's choir. But the first time I delved into the lyrics as well as the melody – I was amazed.
Why does Ali Mohar, a symbol of secular Tel Aviv, suddenly push, in the middle of this universal experience of a father accompanying his son to school for the first time, a verse (and another verse!) from the Book of Psalms? The answer is simple: Apparently, for him too, these were moments of prayer. Of faith. Of God, I will not lack a shepherd.
3.
I don't think any more proof is needed, but I can't do without mentioning another familiar example. A song that is traditionally played on the radio over and over again at the beginning of the school year, almost like the interviews with Ran Erez: "Shalom, Grade 1" by Naomi Shemer, better known as "Dana Nama, Dana Kama.".
If Eli Mohar wrote about the thrilling moments of the first day of school from the perspective of the father accompanying his child, Naomi Shemer describes the experience from the mother's perspective and feelings: "Dana is asleep, Dana is getting up / She puts the schoolbag on her shoulders / With an apple and a banana / Hello, first grade.".
Then comes the next image: "And mother is already standing there / Like Yocheved or Miriam / A great journey begins today / Hello first grade.".
For Naomi Shemer, who was connected to Jewish sources, the excitement and apprehension on the first day of school, of the mother who watches from the sidelines at her child with the schoolbag, the apple and the banana, are immediately connected to "and his sister stood afar off to see what would be done to him" in the story of Moses being thrown into the ark of the covenant. It is very possible that she was also familiar with the Gemara's words on the verse: "Rabbi Yitzhak said: This verse is entirely in the name of the Shekhinah.".
What is clear is that even those moments, at the beginning of first grade, take her to the Bible and to the Mother's Prayer. How much depth is hidden behind a song with simple words like "Dana Nama, Dana Kama.".
Dr. Dror Idar, a literary scholar who currently serves as Israel's ambassador to Italy, once wrote about these two poems, and observed: "Both poets, in describing the experience of separation from their child, relied on the language of the ancients and the Bible. The reliance on the Bible indicates that personal experience transcends epic proportions, because it touches on fundamental experiences that have accompanied humanity since time immemorial.".
4.
These are just two poems by two important authors, who wrote about these moments of the beginning of the school year. Now imagine if every father and mother knew how to write poems, to put into words what they felt this week. Wow. We had countless more poems and prayers and images for joy, for worry, for relief, for apprehension, for happiness, for anxiety. For everything that flows into these moments of sending a child or a girl off to school on the first day.
And of course - and this is worth a separate column and lots of poems - all of these overlap with our childhood memories and experiences, our parents' experiences with the education system, and our encounters with it as students. Each with their own experience, each with their own teachers. As the saying goes: I pray for my children's teachers, that they will not inherit the scars of my teachers.
• The column is published in the newspaper 'Bisheva''
