Blossoming for Our Return

DATELINE: POST-TISHA B'AV, PRE-SHABBAT NACHAMU

It has become a Mother's Day tradition - a gift from my mother to me, and from me to myself - to visit my local nursery each May and buy small flowering plants for my front porch. Three months ago, I gently placed each plant in the soil with a prayer on my lips that their delicate blossoms will flourish, giving me a sense of calm and joy that lasts all summer long.

I watch them slowly fill the small spaces that they are given to grow, watering them daily (unless G-d does it for me), picking up the petals that fall, marveling at their resilience through the hottest days and heaviest thunderstorms, coming back stronger than they were before. They are a miracle.

I don't talk to my flowers but I do often have a song in my head as I care for them. This year, it has been Porchim l'Shuvam - Blossoming for Their Return, by Ishay Ribo. It is a poignant yet uplifting song for the return of our hostages after more than 300 days in captivity and, sadly, still counting. 

If you aren't familiar with Ishay Ribo, don't wait another minute to make his acquaintance. If you haven't heard this song, click here to listen - and watch his flowers come to life. The translation here does not do justice to the brilliant Hebrew lyrics which, as in so many of his songs, weave modern messages into ancient references. 

Last summer and at the beginning of this one, there were some nocturnal critters digging in my planter. I woke up every second or third morning to find soil kicked out of the planter, deep holes in the dirt and my flowers toppling over. I still don't know if they are moles, voles or baby foxes but they were the enemy, and they needed to be dealt with.

Cayenne pepper staved them off somewhat but not enough. So we invested in a pet owl whose flashing lights and shrill sound chased the bad guys away. My owl is the Iron Dome of my flower bed. 

This year my flowers bring more than calm and joy - they comfort and console. Just what I need between this particular Tisha b'Av and Shabbat Nachamu. 

Small space to grow. Enemies. Iron Dome. Miracles. Resilience. Comfort. Consolation. You know where this is heading. But the analogy goes only so far. You see, my flowers are more than halfway through their season now and have reached their peak.

They'll stay that way for a while and then begin to thin out until there's so little left of them that I will pull out each bunch and toss it behind the bushes. I won't be sad because that's what these flowers do. 

But the flowers in Ishay's song will never thin out. Their color will never fade. They have yet to reach their peak...and when they do, they will flourish forever. Because they are watered with tears and hopes and dreams; with millenia of patience and prayer.

One such prayer is a blessing recited three times each weekday in the silent Amida: "Es tzemach Dovid avdecha m'heyra satzmi'ach." May the offspring of Your servant, David, soon flourish. 

We are those offspring, those flowers. We haven't reached our peak yet. But when we do, oh what a glorious world it will be. 

The blessing right before that one is "u'venay Yerushalayim" - rebuild Jerusalem. First, we Remember Jerusalem. Then we await the flourish. When I listen to Ishay Ribo sing Porchim l'Shuvam, I'm really thinking "Porchim l'Shuveynu" - blossoming for our return. His flowers are blossoming not just for our hostages but for all of us to come Home to a safe, secure, peaceful Land and holy city. 

May it be soon - and forever. Shabbat Shalom.

photo credit: Richard T. Nowitz