Posted to General on
by Mimi Notik
On the way.

Niggunim are playing.

The vintage tape is unclear, but the Rebbe's voice is strong. Relevant. Urgent.

Out my window, Jewish faces zoom by.

We have begun the march.

We're on our way.

There's a lot of traffic for 10 pm.

“Are they going to the Ohel?”

Two Minutes

by Mimi Notik

On the way.

Niggunim are playing.

The vintage tape is unclear, but the Rebbe’s voice is strong. Relevant. Urgent.

Out my window, Jewish faces zoom by.

We have begun the march.

We’re on our way.

There’s a lot of traffic for 10 pm.

“Are they going to the Ohel?”

“Don’t think so. They’re black.”

“Ya, you’d be surprised.”

The Rebbe was everyone’s Rebbe.

We are quite the flock.

Parking.

I’m trying to prepare.

I’m thinking, “Who is the Rebbe? What is this all about?”

I’m thinking, “Who am I? What am I all about?”

In line.

So it’s not just me.

We all want to be Chassidim.

The men. The women. The young. The old. The bearded. The shaven. The skirt. The pants. No one’s claiming rights here. G-d wants us all, and the Rebbe proved it.

I watch the policemen.

Where they see a graveyard, we see life.

Crazy crazy Jews.

So I take out my paper.

I breathe in and focus.

My heart spills in black ink.

From, Your proud soldier.

Miriam bas Leah Simcha.

I open my Tehillim. Always the right words.

All of a sudden, someone wants to use my phone. There’s no such thing as strangers in a line like this, a line with this purpose. Sure, here’s my phone. And here’s my pen. And I have paper, too. Hi Doris from Iran. Nice to meet you. My name is Mimi. But you know what, call me Miriam.

A baby is crying. We all feel the mother’s needs. Afterall, Chassidim are one family. Come here, nurse your baby. We’ll block you. The crying stops. The family of hundreds feels calm again.

Inching closer. No rush. A calm focus.

A young boy rests his head on Tatty’s shoulder. Tatty is telling a story to an older man. It seems to be this man’s first time. His eyes are glistening.

A Rebbe video is playing. The Rebbe is talking. He is singing. He is so alive.

I want to pluck him from the screen.

Rebbe, why are you on a video? Come on. What are you doing there?

A pain in my heart longs for closeness.

And suddenly I am being rushed in.

I hold the line to drop some coins.

And here I go.

Inside.

In the womb.

I look around.

Two headstones surrounded by life.

Absorbing.

Prayers. Tears. Gratefulness.

Hashem, look at your children.

Just look at us.

We always show up.

Even for two minutes.

And two minutes is enough.

We’re on Rebbe time. Each second is packed.

Besides, when you’re face to face like this, the truth comes out.

Time forces honesty. No words are extra.

The depths come rushing to my lips.

Hashem, I just want to be good.

I want to be good.

Throat tightening.

Eyes wetting.

Hashem, I want to be good.

Lips tighten.

A tear.

Hashem, I want to do good.

Cheeks flushed.

Eyes moist.

Hashem, be with me.

I want to be good.

I want to be passionate and alive for you.

And here’s what I’m going to do.

A holy conversation. Tehillim.

I read my letter.

I scatter the pieces and everything falls into place.

And I’m being rushed to my left.

Outside.

I feel humbled.

I feel light.

I feel strong.

I feel heard.

I feel ready.

Going home.

Niggunim are playing.

The vintage tape is unclear, but the Rebbe’s voice is strong. Relevant. Urgent.

Out my window, the Jewish people zoom by.

We have begun the march.

We’re on our way.

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13 Comments

  • born a yr b4 gimmel tamuz

    baeutifully written and very expressive!!! it kind of sums up what our generation feels like at times like these

  • CL/G

    Mimi, once again, I feel like you wrote exactly exactly what I feel…Mimi you’re incredible. Incredible how you could put down the feelings so well…I feel like you wrote whats in my heart. G-d bless u Mim. With everything u need Bgashmiyus and Bruchniyus.

  • Kop Doktar

    It’s sad when someone you know becomes someone you knew.

    For some, the rebbe remains someone they know. They are indeed blessed. For others – he is someone they knew. Nevertheless, let the the latter treasure the warm memories of the gift they had, while some of us hold tightly to the treasure in hand..

    It has been 14 long years…tears begin to form but I wipe them away…the rebbe wanted joy. Simcha poretz geder.

    Joy lifts the soul and makes the spirit soar, while no soul can bear the crushing weight of sadness as the spirit drowns in tears.

    Tears are words the heart can’t express. Tears were created to wash the eyes, so we can see life with a clearer view. They are like summer showers that refresh the soul.

    A Jew must be b’simcha at all times. Chassidim in particular were never m’hader in Inyonei Avelus (Items of Mourning). True, Shlomo Hamelech said “Ais livkos” (-there is a time to cry), but that time can be satisfied with a mere moment.

    Although I wipe the tears from my eyes, I leave their stains on my heart.

    What else can I do? Let’s all say l’chaim and have a little tantz and really believe that very soon Mashiach will come and end this bitter golus (exile).

    Maybe then I will become a chassid. Could be even a Lubavitcher. Will it matter? So long as we are whatever the Rebbe wants us to be.

    L’chaim!

  • mashpia

    words that come from the heart enter the heart–such as these. thank you, mimi. To those who eould like to know who this is by–its Mimi Notik. it says in the top right corner.

  • IS-UA

    BS”D

    Mimi, I did not even have to look at the credits to know you wrote this. Yasher koiach as always!