My Magical Megillah

My Magical Megillah

On a recent trip to visit my father, he gave me a very special gift. An antique silver Megillat Esther which he inherited from his mother, my grandmother, who had a sizable and wonderful judaica collection.
I don’t know if my grandmother ever used this megillah. But I know my parents never did. In fact, they were surprised when I told them that it contained a Megillat Esther.
So when I took my brand new/really old Megillah to shul this year, it was the first time in many decades, or possibly ever, that somebody was using it to fulfil the mitzvah of hearing and reading the Megillah on Purim.
And, while this might sound strange, I think my brand new/really old Megillah was over-the-moon excited to be spending this Purim being read from rather than gathering dust. I think so because of a little miracle that happened to me at this year’s megillah reading.
I have a tradition that I learned from Rabbanit Yemima, to pray the Megillah, as she puts it, rather than just reading it. This means that during the megillah reading I use the megillah as a springboard for personal prayers related to the Purim story. The problem with this tradition is that most years, between prayers, I completely lose my place in the megillah. I can even find myself searching through several chapters before I finally catch up with the baal koreh. But this Purim, for the first time I remember, every time I needed to find my place after praying, maybe even 7-8 times, my eyes fell on the place right away.
Which made me think about how this Megillah, lying on a shelf for so many decades–unread, had still been precious and holy. But you can’t compare the preciousness and holiness of that Megillah whilst lying on the shelf in the home of my parents or grandparents vs. its preciousness and holiness while being used to fulfill the purpose, the crucial mitzvah, it was created for. The mitzvah that it was, k’vyachol, hungry to fulfill.
And I thought of how I’m like that Megillah. 3 decades ago, I got pulled off the shelf, and began filling up my life with Torah and mitzvot. Fulfilling the purpose I was created for. Shaking off the dust and rising up, step by step. B”H.


  1. Mina. Gordon

    This is not just a nice essay (
    This is a work of art ‘

  2. Beautifully written! Reminds me of Abie Rottenberg’s song ‘The place where I belong’

  3. What a precious gift and story.

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