Cry, Chana Jenny, Cry

Cry, Chana Jenny, Cry

I haven’t cried since that Shoah-Shabbat 2 weeks ago.

It’s like I can’t let myself really feel the pain. Because I have to stay strong. For my family. For people who’ve been impacted first hand by tragedy. For myself, so I don’t get sucked down into a rabbit hole of fear and despair.

But tonight, during a writing workshop with Yocheved Rottenberg I found myself writing about the war, and how I haven’t cried. And then out of nowhere, I wrote the words: “Cry, Mama Rachel, Cry.”

The pain Rachel Imenu feels for her children is the root of her strength. Of her impact on Hashem. Of her ability to give her children impossible hope as they head off for exile.

On Rachel’s yahrzeit this week she’ll be crying with all of us. With the grieving families. And with the injured. And with the hostages. And with all of us who cry. Or can’t.

[Painting by Yaeli Vogel]



  1. I think I am numb for similar reasons. I work with very young children who BH are not exposed to any of the terror, danger, or horrors of the situation. We have to be living joyfully to project the ultimate geulah that is right around the next corner. With blessings for healing and safety,

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