This and That
Issue: 2.10  
October 1, 2001
A Bar Mitzvah-Mitzvah

Friday night I attended a Bar Mitzvah service that would have been inspirational at anytime, but for the three-hundred-plus who attended in the aftermath of the events of Sept. 11th, 2001, it was an amazing, life-affirming experience. I would like to share the story with you. I believe that many will find comfort from the stories shared with our congregation by a 13-year-old boy.

Like many, my husband and I felt the need to be with people this week and planned to attend the Friday night Shabbat service at the Birmingham Temple of Farmington Hills, Michigan. On the drive, I read from the Temple bulletin that there would be a Bar Mitzvah celebrated. I was surprised and hoped it would be postponed, hoping the focus of the evening would be on making sense of the week's events. Tragically, the adult son of a favorite temple friend had been 94th floor of the World Trade Center, and I knew it would be a sad night. I could not have been more wrong.

We arrived to find the parking lot filled and Temple crowded. Many apparently felt the need to come together. The service began with beautiful, mournful music. Then Rabbi Sherwin Wine spoke at some length about the horrors of the terrorists' attack. He stated that we had two purposes tonight. The first was to mourn the victims, including the son of Skip Rosenthal, Joshua Rosenthal, a fine man who had grown up at the Temple and was well known to many present. The second purpose was to thwart the terrorists desire to demoralize us and continue to celebrate "Life Cycle" events, such as a Bar Mitzvah, the "coming of age" of a Jewish boy. Next, family members of the Bar Mitzvah boy read passages about milestones, family, dignity, power and peace. The congregation sang songs about community, peace and love. Natalie Klein, the 11-year-old sister of the Bar Mitzvah boy read a moving poem, which I've printed below. "I Had a Box of Colors" by Tal Sorek, Age 12, Beersheva, Israel I had a box of colors Shining, bright and bold.

I had a box of colors
Some warm, some very cold.
I had no red for the blood of wounds
I had no black for the orphan's grief.
I had no white for dead faces and hands.
I had no yellow for burning sands.
But I had orange for the joy of life.
And I had green for buds and nests.
I had blue for clear skies.
I had pink for dreams and rest.
I sat down and painted
Peace.

Then Rabbi Wine introduced Jackson Klein, the Bar Mitzvah boy. The Rabbi stated that horrible experiences throughout history, from pogroms, to the Holocaust, to Tuesday's attacks have often provided us with heroes and heroines. At our Humanistic Judaism temple, now in it's 38th year, it is the custom of Bar Mitzvah boys and girls to spend the year prior to their 13th birthday researching the life of a Jewish hero or heroine, and apply lessons from their hero's actions to their own life. Tonight, the Rabbi stated, Jackson would be our teacher as he shared what he has learned.

Handsome, little Jackson Klein climbed the box placed behind the podium and faced the packed room, grinning. Proudly he announced that he had chosen to share the story of the life of Solly Gonor. Jackson had read his book, "Light One Candle," about how, as a 12-year-old boy in Germany, Solly had endured unspeakable hardships to keep himself and his father alive during the Nazi regime. Jackson had managed to locate Solly, now a 74 year-old living in Israel, and began a yearlong e-mail correspondence.

Jackson told us how Solly, as a 12 year-old like himself, enjoyed sports and hanging out with friends, when suddenly he was no longer free and he was in danger because of his Jewish identity. Jackson told us how Solly's family missed a chance to leave the country, and after they were forced from their home, hid briefly with five other families in a barn. In the middle of the night, Solly's father woke them and led them out of the barn, just as soldiers arrived. The family watched in horror as everyone in hiding was forced out, forced to dig their own grave, and shot, one by one.

Jackson shared stories about how the Gonor family lived for a period in a ghetto, where Solly endured hunger and cold. Solly was bravely able to retrieve food thrown over the ghetto wall by a boy who had been a friend before the war, each risking his life to make a midnight run to the barbed-wire fence when the guards were not looking. Boredom was another hardship, as the Germans banned one of the Jews last remaining pleasures by ordering the collection of all books. Knowing he risked his life, Solly and a friend hid books in a forbidden part of the ghetto. Solly grieved when his former math teacher was found with a book and shot. Solly attributes his ability to stay alive in the ghetto to his friendships with two other teens, both of whom later died in concentration camps.

Solly's family was sent from the ghetto to a work camp, and then to a concentration camp. It was here that he was separated from his mother, and promised that he would keep his father alive. Jackson told us about Solly's heart-wrenching experiences at the camp, but also told us about how Solly used his wits to keep himself and his father fed and clothed.

Finally, the Germans had an idea that the Jewish prisoners would build them a fort, and sent them on a death march through miles of snow-covered roads. Here Solly, in his fatigue, lost track of his father. Eventually, Solly collapsed beside a tree, where he truly believed he would die. Apparently, he fell asleep. He was awakened by a Japanese American soldier, who lifted him out of the snow and told him he was free. Solly was later reunited with his father, who had been taken to a hospital. Just five years ago, Solly was reunited with this very soldier in Israel. This reunion brought back many memories that Solly had long suppressed, and that was when he began to write his book. Jackson stated that he has committed himself to the telling of Solly's story of courage. At this point, the entire congregation stood and loudly applauded Jackson's moving presentation. As the clapping finally slowed, Jackson announced he had one more part to his Bar Mitzvah. He stated that, due to the closing of the airports this week, none of the out-of-towners had been able to come in for this night, except for one. That person is ....Solly Gonor! A gasp went through the entire room.

Jackson proceeded, "Since Mr. Gonor was not able to celebrate his Bar Mitzvah when he was 13, I would like him to join me now". A white-haired man in the front row stood and slowly made his way up to the podium next to Jackson. The crowd stood and applauded wildly. For several minutes, Mr. Gonor stood with a hand over his eyes, struggling to regain his composure. Then, Jackson and Mr. Gonor read together, first in Hebrew, then in English. Then Mr. Gonor addressed us, stating that he never expected that his experiences would one day be an inspiration to a 13-year-old boy. He stated that he was glad he had been able to make the journey from Israel, and meet his e-mail pen pal.
Mr. Gonor's story reminded us that evil in the world is not new, but that the human spirit and will to survive is strong. At a time that many of us are asking how can we bear the sadness of these last few days, we are reminded of those who suffered for the years of Nazi cruelty, as well as people in countries all over the world where terrorism is a way of life. We were reminded by 13-year-old Jackson Klein that we must indeed continue to celebrate life.

Our evening ended by standing together and singing Ayfo Oree. The words, translated from Hebrew, are as follows:

Where is my light? My light is in me.
Where is my hope? My hope is in me.
Where is my strength? My strength is in me.
And in you.

   
 Advertisement