The Art of Hugging A Tree – A Gimmel Tammuz Diary

Where is she? I lift my eyes, searching. The silhouettes cast on the white hanging sheet catch my eye. Back lit by the sun, their shadows create the most intriguing visual. Unlike a painting or photograph this sight it is alive.

The profile of the faces of women clearly defined on the stretched white sheet is gently waving in the breeze.

Old and young ladies lips are moving in prayer while the Psalms held in their hands are close to their heads.

The outlines of restless children are moving about as much as they can in the packed line.

The baby strollers presence is revealed by the shape of the handles.

If there was to be a flag for this place and state of being this would be it, anonymous contours of people praying.

This stretched hanging white sheet, the Mechitza, separating the men’s line from the woman’s line, with it’s shadows could be a piece in some Jewish life museum.

I can’t seem to find them.

I return my attention back to the prayer book and continue to utter the words in a whisper.

They are probably far ahead, maybe they went in already?

Hopefully the woman’s line is faster than the man’s line that just doesn’t seem to proceed.

* * *

Here we are at the Rebbe’s resting place, which is anything but restful, especially not today.

This place is buzzing. The cars parked in every area possible make it difficult for the waves of new cars coming in to find a place to park. People are everywhere. On the sidewalk. In the guest lobby areas for men and those for woman. And of course the massive lines to the Rebbe’s Ohel.

The commotion of people creates a happening atmosphere of longing and desperation.

In addition to just be there on this auspicious day, everyone has come for a private reason, a need for a personal redemption in some realm. Some for a better financial situation, some seek blessings for improved health, some in finding a mate, some for having a baby, etc.

The amount of people present is quiet impressive.

My goodness, this Rabbi touches so many people, I can‘t help thinking to myself. Its striking no matter how many times I see it.

The lines are long and packed. Everybody is waiting for their turn to come into the Rebbe’s resting place for the allotted and strictly enforced two minutes on this special day, Gimmel Tammuz, the anniversary of the Rebbe’s passing.

Before joining the long lines I had gone to the restroom.

My wife took the kids with her in the woman’s line.

When I returned I saw they advanced too far for me to offer to take a kid and elevate some burden from my wife, now, with all four kids all ages four and under.

I’m reading the Maaneh Lashon, a compilation of prayers and Psalms recited by the burial sites of Tzadikim, I picked up from the table by the candle lighting stand.

Just like everybody else here, I’ve got so many Brachos, blessings, to ask for, for my family and I.

Half an hour goes by and another and another and suddenly familiar voices awaken me from my meditative state induced by reciting the holy words while I shuckle back and forth.

Finally! Amongst the sea of people swaying and waiting in prayer, I’m relieved and happy to see my family.

The kids bounce back and forth between my wife and I until we each take two.

Before we go forward , each in their own line, we take off our children’s leather shoes ahead of time, as is customary not to wear leather shoes in this holy place such as this one, where the Rebbe is buried.

I’m holding Tamar Devorah, our 9 month old and Yehudis Leah who is 4. Chana Bat Sheva, her twin and Menachem Mendel, 2, are with my wife in the woman’s line. We are so close to entering now it seems.

The woman’s line proceeds taking my wife and the two kids a bit forward and soon out of sight.

Tamar Devorah is busy leafing through various prayer books I gave her while I balance Yehudis Leah on the fence dividing the men and woman’s line all the while reciting Psalms and then my own P’an, personal letter to the Rebbe. I figure its better to read it now in the line since the Ohel will be too squashed for me to endure a minute or two with the two kids in my care inside.

Around half an hour goes by.

Finally, as we are almost by the front of the line, my daughter Yehudis Leah shocks me. At first it didn‘t register because I was dumbfounded so I asked her to repeat herself.

‘ Abba I have to make.’ She informs me.

Perfect timing! Just as we are about to enter the Ohel after nearly 2 hours in line… Oy!

I take her hand and push the few people in front of me with several ‘excuse me’s. The guard looks at me as I try to pass through and I tell him I have to take my daughter to the potty. We run into the loaded lobby area that is just brewing with life and several Minyanim for Mincha, the afternoon prayer. Ironicly enough my high wishes and noble prayers are reduced in a matter of seconds to a desperate plea ’ Hashem, please help her keep it in until we reach the toilet. Please save us from an accident in the middle of one of these packed Minyanim!’

We make it to the bathroom, thank G-d, after which we wash our hands and run back to the line explaining to every guard on our way very apologetically that Yedudis Leah had to go potty.

We are allowed to go to the front of the line and are let in.

I swoop Yehudis Leah with my left arm, while my right arm is holding Tamar Devorah.

I somehow manage to knock on the door and enter with both of our kids in my arms.

The Ohel is full to capacity.

I give Yehudis Leah My P’an to rip up and throw into the Ohel.

She takes the picture of flowers she made and brought especially for the Rebbe and puts it in.

Instead of reading the entire P’an there’s only one request that comes to mind that seems to encapsulate it all which I say with my daughter, ’ Mashiach Now‘. These simple two words pack a mighty punch, demanding, asking, wishing, praying that the righteous redeemer of Israel will come immediately ushering in the complete and final redemption.

It seems also to be the perfect request in this auspicious occasion celebrating the Rebbe, since the Rebbe’s life’s work centered around making Mashiach a reality.

That would definitely be the perfect elixir for all of us here and the world over.

We leave the Ohel as we are facing the Rebbe’s stone.

I’m walking backwards out of respect.

We walk out searching for my shoes which were moved next to pile of dozens of shoes.

While I’m putting on my shoes I can’t help thinking ‘we made it!’.

The setting sun is shining a golden light on this holy scene.

I briefly look back. The lines are still packed. The frenzy continues even though the day is about to depart.

The breeze is blowing gently, somehow managing to let the heat linger.

As we walk back to the lobby area I’m taken aback as I see it.

Maybe it never looked like this ever before. Perhaps it never will grow this way ever again. Even tough I thought I saw it many times before I didn’t really see it up until this past Shabbos.

.

* * *

This past Shabbos I was by the Ohel. Together with a couple thousand other people.

Rabbis, Chasidim, students and guests from the world over gathered there for a Shabbos of unity and Farbrengen, Chasidic gathering, as preparation for Gimmel Tammuz.

All who came were treated to free lodging and festive meals that reeked of plenty.

It was truly an outstanding spiritual Shabbos of togetherness.

Farbrenging together. Learning together. Eating together. Celebrating together.

The enormous newly built halls of the lobby area were filled with hundreds of tables and benches, all needless to say, packed with guests.

Looking around, wherever I was in, amazed me, since the sheer numbers of people created a Chasidic landscape scene, Chasidim as far as the eye can see.

By one Farbrengen I happened to be by, a charismatic Rabbi from Israel kept those in attendance riveted for literally hours. His stories and powerful Torah teachings from the Rebbe were given over with great energy and brilliance. The mood was enhanced further with moving Nigunim, Chasidic melodies, and delicious served delicacies (that were complementary).

During one of the Nigunim I happened to just look around.

Right above the table we were situated by, there was a big window.

This window was a perfect frame for this ‘postcard picture’ I saw.

Through the window you could see the sight of this grandiose tree in the foreground, while in the background white clouds were swimming in the light blue sky.

It’s big trunk loomed over the cemetery landscape. Its unusual branches, which were quite big and trunk like aimed at the sky making this tall tree look like a giant human figure with outstretched arms towards the heavens above.

Wow.

I looked around me at the masses of people present and then I looked back at the tree.

Making it even more intriguing, this tree was covered with vines of ivy.

The ivy surrounded the trunk completely and went all the way up to those big branches.

This big tree was fully dressed with ivy head to toe.

How interesting…

This was a cemetery after all. The stones were quiet and gray. The land was flat.

In this solemn place to see this unique beautiful tree, a burst of life, was somehow not a contradiction, even though it really stood out.

I then noticed the bottom of the window through which you could see a bit of the ivy growing on a fence which surrounds the cemetery.

The ivy on the fence reached maybe six feet while the ivy on the tree reached thirty or forty feet tall.

I glanced back at the people by the Farbrengen I was by. Then I stretched my gaze towards the other Farbrengens in the distance.

I looked through the window again, and this time, the connection just clicked.

The view of this magnificent tree is a mirror to what this majestic gathering is all about.

All of us are the ivy, connected to the stately tree, the Rebbe.

The tree is very tall. The ivy is enabled to grow tall too, because of its connection to the tree.

All those here have come in honor of the Rebbe, the spiritual leader of the generation, are

clinging to the tall tree…we are cleaving to the Rebbe.

We are all climbing upwards, heaven bound.

Because the tree is so high, reaching with its thick trunk like branches outstretched to the firmament, the ivy is also able to reach up high, in a sense, touching the sky.

Because of our connection to this grand supporting figure who was constantly extended to heavenly matters, we are able to reach higher levels than we could have any other way, and truly touch heaven.

He is a lofty tree connected with the Torah, the tree of life, in a seamless bond.

By attaching ourselves to him we attach to that which he is attached to…

* * *

All of the sudden, after these flashing thoughts from Shabbos I glance back towards those lines. Now inspired by my Shabbos epiphany, those seemingly unending lines of people resembled long vines of ivy, every face a leaf.

I walk towards our van where my wife waits for us.

After feeding the kids and ourselves ( I fasted this whole day) we prepare for the ride home. The intensity of the day impregnates with inspiration.

I started up our van and begin the drive home hoping, expecting, revealed goodness.

The sun setting rays of light cast an enchanting glow suggesting this day isn’t really over, but rather it reignited something that will burn within all of us who come to the Rebbe and those who let the Rebbe’s teachings come into their life, transforming, elevating and literally catapulting us sky high.

Ohel Chabad Lubavitch at the Rebbe’s Ohel is open 24 hours a day and is located at 226-20 Francis Lewis Blvd. Cambria Heights, New York 11411 Tel 718 723 4545 www.OhelChabad.Org

Rabbi Bentzion Elisha is an award winning photographer ( ElishaArt.Com) and writer. He resides with his family in NYC.