Boston North Inc.
Present Memories
And There Was Light
My very own miracle happened to me in 1963, in Israel. In that tiny corner of the world, for the first time in my Life, I felt WHOLE . . . because when I was a child, the world was comprised of two kinds of nations:
those nations that would not allow the Jews out . . . .
and those nations that would not allow the Jews in.
I want to shout praises so the world may hear,
Until mountains tremble through rock and debris,
For my heart is singing – Oh, so loud and clear:
I am free! I am free!
Free of all the turmoil that my soul begot,
Free of hate that all but turned my heart to stone
There is peace of mind – I nearly forgot . . .
And the fear is gone.
A miracle comes in so many forms:
In the shape of men forgotten, obscured,
In the act of people who weathered a storm . . .
But somehow endured.
All the hopeless years of longing and shame,
Oppressed and defiled . . . in cruel endeavor,
By forces determined to erase The Name. . .
And silence forever.
What a paradox! -
A vibrant reminder of tears spilled in sorrow,
Only served to strengthen the courageous goal
Of a bright tomorrow.
From ruin to ashes and dreams turned to dust . . .
Through plague unto famine, a tragic past;
These forsaken masses of bedraggled slaves
Made a valiant stand –
And the ocean waves
Brought them home at last
To the promised land.
Yes, I saw the Children of Israel come home!
A spirit that nothing must ever impair;
Never more as outcasts to wander and roam
And die in despair . ..
In the still of the night you may hear a voice
That whispers a prayer of humble thanksgiving
A Kadish . .. A tear . . Then on to rejoice
And exalt the living.
I have seen the fruit of their sweat and toil;
A desert in bloom! When with blessed hands
They transformed the sand into garden soil
And redeemed the land.
My very own miracle happened to me
When my eyes beheld the blue skies above.
The meadows so green . . . and the emerald sea
As deep as the love
That seemed to surround me. Not a cloud in sight!
My heritage priceless in the face of time;
I drank of its beauty in wondrous delight –
Suspended . . . Sublime . . .
Some miracles do come in strange attire
And I witnessed one, with eyes open wide,
Emerging victorious through hell and through fire
Compassion and pride.
In courage and faith they begot a nation,
An eternal shrine to the millions slain –
A splendid memorial to life’s consecration
That was not in vain.
I want to shout praises so the world may hear,
Until mountains tremble through rock and debris,
For my heart is singing – Oh, so loud and clear –
I am free! I am free!
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