The Sights, Sounds, Smells and Tastes of Tishrei

Rabbi Avrohom Brashevitzky, Shliach to Doral, FL, takes a trip down memory lane in this pre-Yom Kippur essay on the unrivaled experience of spending Tishrei in Crown Heights, which he opted to share with the readers of CrownHeights.info:

It’s Thursday morning, a day before Erev Yom Kippur.  As it’s a Yom Hakri’a I’m reading V’zos Habracha. Suddenly I have a sense of excitement. I can literally smell a strong odor of Farbrengen & Simcha. It feels as if open bottles of Mashkeh and  half finished jars of Shmaltz herring are strewn about.

I can almost see the figure of a short man with black glasses, his Tallis over his head perched behind his ears, bobbing to the rhythm of the familiar Simchas Torah Kri’a. I’m hearing the familiar voice of The Rebbe’s Baal Koireh, Rabbi Shusterman OBM so eloquently delivering the most perfect and favorable Kri’a. (All year round his reading was something special, but the Yomim Tovim were above and beyond).

Baruch Hashem I very quickly remember that it is still before Yom Kippur (and sadly Moshiach has not yet arrived), we still need to get through the Holiest Day of the year. Then will come Sukkos, Hoshana Rabba and then Shmini Atzeres & Simchas Torah.

But “the damage was done”… And my senses were wandering down memory lane, unrestrained.    Suddenly I feel myself pinned against The Rebbe’s Bimmah(. It’s by choice that so many Bochurim opted to stand on their feet in total discomfort – all day Yom Kippur -) for a better glimpse of The Rebbe’s holy face during Napoleon’s March. I don’t feel hot or hungry, nor does my throat feel dry from thirst of 20+ hours of Yom Kippur that have already passed.

One of the great blessings of age is the reality of your various body parts’ importance. As they each scream out for attention you are cautious not to provoke their nerves. The consequential pain is just not worth it. But back then. Back then “in the good old days” one was transported to a different state of being. It didn’t hurt, we didn’t notice the discomfort; not only the Bochurim, even the older men.

Forward to Sukkos. I can taste the evergreens. You know, that wonderfully smelling Schach which would shed into your soup, only to be detected by that bitter taste after you have already bitten into it. Ahhh, those primitive Sukkos, the ones you built yourself (or bought prefab that were “made NOT in China”). From one year to the next,  the holes always mismatched, leaving the whole Schuna with sounds of drilling, banging and sawing. It sounded and felt like Sukkos. Today, all I hear (at least where I live – we’re the only Sukkah in town so far) is the light sound of metal clinging together and Velcro pairs being torn apart.

The bitter taste of the falling evergreen leaves is quickly dissipating due to the beautiful aroma of the Esrogim the kids are playing with: and by the fresh farm smell of recently whacked out Hoshanos. The glamorous crown of Hoshanos forming on top of The Rebbe’s Aron Kodesh is so royal and beautiful. But too soon the lights are being dimmed, the Rebbe’s Shul is slowly but surely emptying out (except of course for the (self appointed) Meyuchasim…). Shmiddy is running around (like a survivor of Kapores) like a chicken without a head armed with all his fancy power tools. You can literally touch and feel the great excitement of what’s to begin very soon: one of (or perhaps THE) greatest events of Tishrei by The Rebbe: Hakafos!

Who ever knew that our senses have imagination too?

OK. Enough. Back to reality. Still need to get ready for Yom Kippur and build a Sukkah and…

A Chasimah and Gmar Chasima Tova!