Yom Kippur Speech
By: Esther Shwartz
Good evening. My name is Esther Schwartz. On Rosh Hashanah, Rabbi Lipzysc asked me to say a few words tonight. I was a bit stunned, but who could refuse a request from your Rabbi? We are told to go out of our comfort zones and this certainly qualifies. At least my husband David was supportive. When I told him I was speaking, he said with a smile “well, better you than me!”
My parents immigrated to America in 1949. Our family practiced Conservative Judaism, with an Eastern European flair. Yiddish was spoken daily. I just close my eyes and see my mother lighting the Shabbos candles, or my father conducting the Seder. I cherish the times we went to the Yiddish theatre on 2nd Avenue to see Molly Picon in “Yidd’l Mit’n Fidd’l” or the many other Jewish artists of that era.
I wish I could say that my mom was a great cook, but that wasn’t always the case. My dad used to say her matzoh balls were so hard they could be shot out of a cannon. My mother was always fixated that I wasn’t eating enough. She complained to the Doctor and he took one look at me and said “well, she doesn’t look like she‘s not eating!”. At home we kept kosher. Me, David and my parents once had lunch on Delancey Street, and my dad ordered a hamburger. What he got instead was a cheeseburger. We wondered how he was going to react. To our astonishment he ate the whole thing and never uttered a word. A month later, David being David, just could not let it go, and asked my father why he did not return the cheeseburger. Dad said he would never waste food, he could not bare the thought that they might throw it away. David then understood exactly what he meant.
1945. The year the Nazi Death Camps were liberated. My mother survived Bergen Belsen, and my father and brother were liberated from Auschwitz. Being a child of holocaust survivors has a profound effect on your psyche. It has been said that the wounds suffered by holocaust victims become scars on their children. To some extent that is certainly true. Being a child of holocaust survivors, means you never forget. It’s not just a slogan.
My parents met after their liberation from those death camps. They both lost spouses, in addition to many other family members. My mother had a baby girl who did not survive the German occupation, and my dad lost his older son, Jacob. My father told me that Jacob was the studious one. He had high hopes and dreams for him. However, having top grades in school did not matter if you were not physically strong. Those dreams were shattered, when too weak and too sick to work, SS guards shot Jacob, before my father’s eyes.
Sol, his younger son, was the mischievous one. He was an athlete, and he was streetwise. Being able to withstand countless beatings and steal some bread were a key to survival. And Sol survived. He went on to join the American Army where he spent a year in Korea. He was in the battle of the Chosin Reservoir, where American forces were vastly outnumbered and temperatures fell to minus 35. They famously became known as the Frozen Chosin. Again Sol survived. He always said that after the Lodz Ghetto and Auschwitz, there was nothing that could scare him.
My father often shared stories of his time during the holocaust.
He stressed that his faith in Hashem never wavered. He said it was that unwavering faith which gave him the will to live. My mother however, found it too painful to speak about the atrocities she experienced. I do remember one incident that she told me. It was after she lost her baby. Her husband had been picked up by the Nazis. She was 21 years old, alone, desperate and scared. In Krakow, Poland a famous Rabbi resided. My mom decided to visit him just to receive a blessing. When she arrived at the Rabbi’s home, he refused to see her. She persisted and made it very clear she was not leaving until he blessed her. The Rabbi relented, opened the door just a fraction and uttered “Got Zull Zein Mit Dir” –May G‑d Be With You. My mother always believed those words from the Rabbi, is what kept her alive.
My parents have since passed on. My brother Sol is now 85, and lives in Florida. He has five children, one of which is a world renowned pediatric heart surgeon. Perhaps, what Jacob may have become had he lived. The Jewish people survived, and the world is so much better for that outcome.
Although growing up with traditional Jewish values, when David and I got married, we lead a more secular life. And when our kids were old enough to attend Hebrew School, we joined North Shore Synagogue, which is reformed. At the time, it best suited our lifestyle.
Even though we were members for twenty four years, David and I always felt that something was lacking. We do not have regrets, it’s what we chose, but we felt we needed to go back to our traditional Jewish roots. After doing a little research, we decided to see what Town of Oyster Bay Chabad was all about. At first, I attended Yiskor services. Immediately, the warmth of Rabbi Lypzysc and the Congregation was noticeable. I began going to the weekly Shabbat services and the Tanya classes with Brochy. David started attended services as well. We became members, and have never before felt so connected to our Jewish faith. One of our members, Lonny remarked to David “this is your home now” and Lonny is right. And it is a joyous home. A home where no one is judgemental. In our Shul, it does not matter if you are Chassidic, Orthodox, Conservative, Reformed or unaffiliated. The only qualification is that you are a Jew. The friendliness and welcoming was unlike any we had experienced. Jews caring for other Jews, The way it is supposed to be. The way it needs to be.
This year’s Rosh Hashanah services were the most inspiring and uplifting I have ever been a part of. We have to thank Cantor LevI who traveled from the UK to lead us in prayer with his beautiful, melodic voice.
Rabbi Lipzysc, his family and the congregation practice a Judaism that has something deep, meaningful and relevant to say about life — that challenges the mind and soul that is heartwarming and tolerant. The Town of Oyster Bay Chabad is a place that is filled not only with songs of prayer and the words of Torah. It is a place where our children go to Hebrew school, have bar and bat mitzvahs. It is a place where we come for comfort and support. A place where community is created. I know my parents are proudly looking down and smiling that we have found our spiritual home.
I urge you to attend a Shabbat service and hear the Rabbi explain the weekly parsha or come listen to a guest speaker such as Tzvi Freeman, who provided Kaballah insight to our congregation. Your life will be forever enriched.
However, this Chabad home cannot thrive without your support. Now is the time to give back, for all they give us. Please pledge as generously as you can. Your generosity will help grow the Town of Oyster Bay Chabad, as it continues to nurture the soul.
On behalf of my family and myself, I would like to express our wish, that you be inscribed for a year of health and happiness, - and that it be a year of peace and security, - in Israel, and
the world over.
G’mar Chatima Tova!