Poetry
“Sacred Counting”
*read at my Ordination ceremony - May 21st, 2022
I remember counting my blessings when I heard the news;
my acceptance letter was my father’s birthday present.
My grandmother rejoiced saying,
“You will be a rabbi before I die.”
Three months later, I stood at her funeral as her hesped echoed,
“Her dying wish came true—her granddaughter will be a rabbi.”
I left for Israel a week later.
In Israel, time became sacred,
empty Shabbat streets my calendar.
The time seemed distant while learning about Judaism’s past, present, and future.
With each year of classes,
I would count down until standing
at Plum Street Temple,
joyous and accomplished.
March 2020—time stopped, all the counting felt useless.
Our plans unaccountable, the worries innumerable.
The ceremony we had counted on
would not be anything like we had imagined.
Still, I counted the days until my online ordination,
thinking of my grandmother and her smile.
Now, two years later, Ecclesiastes lingers.
There is a time for everything;
even if years pass,
we can carry our past with us.
Whatever has already been
and what will be has been before
and God will call the past to account.
We return to what was left behind,
knowing we’ve grown and blossomed.
In this sacred moment,
may we take time to embrace one another,
to revel in our completion.