I’ve been going through Rabbi Elihu Levine’s English rendering of the Kli Yakar on the first few parshas of Sefer Beresheit.

As written in the post How to Avoid Getting Lost in Translation, I don’t usually go for English translations because of all the inherent problems involved.
 
But this is probably the first English translation of any classic work that is nearly flawless in capturing the true intent and meaning of the original Hebrew without sacrificing English eloquence and readability.
 
Oftentimes, translators must sacrifice either clarity and accuracy for smoother and less “clunky” reading experience, or sacrifice smoother reading for clarity and accuracy—but Rabbi Levine maintains both without sacrificing either.

And I have no idea how he managed to pull that off.

But the result is that you can just sit down and read through it, although Rabbi Levine himself humbly insists that the English rendering is only meant to be an aid to the Hebrew (which I suppose is why he refers to his work as “rendered” into English” and not “translated”).
 
Furthermore, the layout of the book is just wonderful.

Both the English and Hebrew typefaces and fonts are perfect for easy and pleasant reading.

Even the paper used is of higher-quality and strength.
 
The book is footnoted well, but not annoyingly so. Rabbi Levine provides the necessary sources for all the Kli Yakar’s references, magically intuiting when a simple citation of chapter and verse will suffice—or when the reader needs more explanation.

I really needed this because my Aramaic is so poor and I didn’t always understand the connection between the Kli Yakar’s ideas and the source he referenced.
 
The entire work is incredible and I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
 
Finally, I very much agree with Rabbi Beryl Wein’s opinion as expressed in the Foreword:

Before becoming frum, I’d never heard of Shemini Atzeret.

Yet even a small amount of research showed it to be a holiday of love.

Hashem loves us so much that He wants us back for a special chag that doesn’t commemorate any specific event, but is like an intimate celebration with Hashem on a national level.
 
This always intrigued me because all the other chagim commemorate significant spiritual events—except Shemini Atzeret.

Furthermore, the whole idea of Hashem wanting to be with us so exclusively and intimately—Shemini Atzeret holds the same obligations and prohibitions as other chagim: no phones, no computer, no driving, no malacha except cooking (according to the special laws for cooking on chagim), and lots of praying and singing—always intrigued me because Hashem is Omnipotent.
 
In other words, Hashem doesn’t need anything, including us.

But despite all our quirks, back-sliding, and contentiousness, He metaphorically stretches out His Arms and grabs us up for a big tight Divine Hug called Shemini Atzeret.

Shir HaShirim
Even a cursory glance at Tanach, mussar books, chassidus, zemiros and piyutim show that Judaism expects a Jew to cultivate a very personal relationship with God.

He is constantly referred to as a Father to Whom we are supposed to speak, confide in, confess, and cry out.
 
And love.

For example, Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs):

Once you know it’s an intimate exchange between Hashem and the Jewish people, and once you learn even a little bit of the symbolism behind its powerful metaphors, it becomes a beautiful experience to read and learn.
 
I once had a roommate who came up with the inspiration to do a responsive reading in English of Shir HaShirim, with one young woman reading Hashem’s part and the other reading Bnei Yisrael’s part.

After we finished, her hands, still holding the chumash, fell to her lap as she said in an awed voice, “Look at how much Hashem loves us. He just loves us so much.”
 
The inspiring thing about this is that she was just a very normal young woman in the process of teshuvah and still had foot in part of the secular world and was reading in English—and no matter how good the translation is, Shir HaShirim loses a tremendous amount without the Hebrew.
 
Yet the basic message still shot like an arrow into her soul.
 
This is a beautiful piece to read in a quiet moment as a dialogue of love between you and Hashem.

Zemiros and Piyutim
Zemiros and piyutim are also love songs to Hashem.
 
One of the most famous, Yedid Nefesh, is well-known among both Ashkenazim and Sephardim, with a variety of beautiful tunes to accompany it.
 
Just its opening words: “Soul Companion, Merciful Father, draw your servant to Your Will” already demonstrates incredible adoration on the part of the composer.

The verses continue with the love and longing only increasing:

“Majestic One, Beautiful One, Radiance of the World, my soul is lovesick for Your Love—please, God, please heal her now…”

And later, the composer begs Hashem to spread the Sukkah of His Peace over him.
​
Even if one does not normally feel much emotion for Hashem, singing this piyut in a quiet spot can awaken any dormant feelings of the love and deveikut every Jewish soul feels toward Hashem, whether he or she is aware or not.
 
(Here, Yedid Nefesh is used as an example, but you certainly can and should use any piyut or zemiros with which you connect emotionally.)

Verbal and Artistic Expressions of Love
Talking to Hashem, especially praising and thanking Hashem for anything and everything, also awakens feelings of love and intimacy toward Him.
 
Furthermore, this can also be performed according to each person’s soul-expression:

In Tanach, we have examples of our greatest people singing, dancing, playing musical instruments, and writing their love to Hashem.

And there’s no reason why you can’t also paint or draw your loving feelings toward Hashem.

​In Western culture nowadays, emotions are given short shrift.
 
Many people shove positive emotions into categories like "sappy," "hyper," or just plain "too much."

And negative emotions are treated as unwanted vermin to be brushed aside, stamped out, and exterminated as quickly as possible.
 
The Puritan ethic, so good in some ways, has also spread to Jewish observance as an ideal. But it's NOT the ideal.
 
When it comes to Hashem and our relationship with Him, we're SUPPOSED to get all worked up.

It’s well-known that women connect more easily in this way to Hashem than men.

It’s not hard to think of several reasons for this, such as women being more naturally into relationships, the slavish devotion women show more of a tendency to express toward their object of love (not so healthy when directed toward a human being, but very much the ideal when directed toward God), being more verbally and emotionally expressive, and the fact that (as shown by sources such as Shir HaShirim and the piyutim) the Jew takes on a feminine role in the relationship with Hashem...

...which comes naturally to women, of course, being already positioned in a feminine role.
 
However, we possess hundreds (maybe thousands?) of examples of Jewish men who have definitely succeeded in cultivating an intimate and loving relationship with Hashem since time immemorial, so it’s definitely a viable goal for all Jews regardless of gender or temperament.

The yahrtzeit of Rebbe Nachman ben Simcha and Feiga (1772-1810) of Breslov falls on 18 Tishrei, Wednesday night to Thursday night.
 
The yahrtzeit of Rav Eliezer (ben Yitzchak) Papo (1785-1826), the author of the Pele Yoetz falls on 20 Tishrei, Friday night to Saturday.
 
Free audio classes and English translations of chapters of the Pele Yoetz can be found here.
 
Free downloads of Rebbe Nachman's lessons and stories can be found here.

There is a very interesting Kli Yakar in Parshat Emor which describes the process of how teshuvah is accepted from Rosh Hashanah through Sukkot.
 
It's very inspiring and shows how vital the pre-Sukkot prep and the first day of Sukkot are for the final step of the teshuvah process in which the Jewish People have been involved until now.
 

If you haven't done teshuvah yet or if you would like to give your teshuvah one final shlug, the first day of Sukkot is vital for doing so.
 
As the Kli Yakar says:
 
"....the first day of the [Sukkot] holiday is the first for the accounting of transgressions. Therefore, the establishment of mass teshuvah needs to be done on that very day."

For the link, please click here.
(It's accompanied by lots of photos for easier reading.)
 
Chag Same'ach!

On Tuesday afternoon, Erev Yom Kippur, I unexpectedly noticed the Moon a full 2 hours before sunset.
 
Its visibility was even more striking because there were clouds floating around (i.e., its exceptional visibility wasn't due to it merely being the only white thing in the sky) and a cloud slightly covered it.
 
Additionally, over the summer, I saw the Moon regularly around an hour before sunset.
 
Of course, there could be practical reasons for it:
 
1) The Moon is closer to the Sun (enabling the Sun to illuminate it more).
2) The Moon is closer to the Earth.
3) The Sun is shining brighter, making the Moon (and other planetary bodies) brighter.
4) In addition to the Sun, another luminary body (Nibiru!) is shining on us all, making the Moon (and other planetary bodies) brighter.
 
Most of the above can be checked out online.
 
However, there are also always spiritual reasons for naturally occurring events.
 
We know that the Jewish Nation is compared to the Moon.
 
It seems that if the Moon's light is growing brighter, then that is a good indication that our light is growing brighter, too.
 
Furthermore, our Sages speak of the Sun and the Moon possessing separate "memshalah" - authority or rulership - the Moon's memshalah occurring at night while the Sun's memshalah occurs during the day. But now the Moon is increasing its memshalah by edging into the Sun's memshalah, which is also a good sign for us.
 
And even if this was only a one-time occurrence, the fact that it occurred Erev Yom Kippur is still significant.

Finally, many others have already noted that the Moon has become very bright at night and at times, we've seen an enormous and very beautiful halo around the Moon.
 
I really hope that the Moon's increased light and memshalah is truly a siman tov for us.
 
May we merit that it be so.

Several years ago, my two oldest boys—who are close in age and grew up like twins—used to hang out with other adventurous friends and their brothers.

This was nice for them because upon befriending one boy, their social circle automatically increased 2- or 3-fold when brothers came into the picture, making one big happy gang.

Of course, this means a certain amount of chaos for the mother (i.e. me), including  dealing with the consequences of normal boy adventures, like tending the bloody head wounds of someone else’s child.
 
One evening, after I thought everyone had scattered off to their different homes, I proceeded to dole out dinner, tidy up, then put everyone to bed.

I was desperate for some private down-time after their bedtime.

But my two oldest boys wouldn’t settle down.
 
I kept coming to their room upon hearing them whispering excitedly and moving around. Each time, they leaped back into bed, smothering giggles.
 
Finally, with my nerves shot after close to 3 hours of this (around 11PM), I opened the door to see one of their friends (age 12) hiding in their closest.

Startled & feeling a serious invasion of privacy, I totally freaked out and I chased him out of the house, yelling all the way.

Then I came back and yelled out my own kids (I am nothing if not fair) and then sat there with my nerves totally fried, feeling like I just can’t get a break.

Or privacy.
 
Now, as the kid raced over the stairs out of our building, I vaguely noticed that the expression on his face wasn't been the usual gleeful “Wheeeeee!” expression boys wear as they flee trouble.

​On the contrary, he looked frightened. But I put it out of mind because he was one of the livelier happy-go-lucky kids in the crowd, often getting into scrapes, and those types usually forget minor negative experiences a few seconds after they happen.
 
Two years later, my boys came home after running into that same boy. While chatting about it, they said, “He asked if you were still mad at him.”
 
“Why on earth would I be mad at him?” I said, having forgotten about the incident. “He’s so good-natured and was always so kind to your younger siblings.”
 
“He thinks you don’t like him.”

“Why?” I said, mystified.

Then they reminded me of what had happened that late night two years ago.

“That why he stopped coming around. He’s afraid that you’ll yell at him again.”

Uh-oh.

I got that sinking feeling you get when something you sense you've done something really wrong.
 
If he was still recalling it—and especially if he thought I was angry at him and is afraid of me—then that means that my yelling at him affecting him a LOT more than I’d imagined.
 
“I’m not mad at him at all,” I said. “I really like him. And I wouldn’t just stam start yelling at him or anybody else—I mean, as long as I don’t find him haunting my home at 11 o’clock at night, why would I yell at him?”
 
But my sons were excited by the fact that their mother was considered tough & scary by their friends, and were no longer paying attention.
 
Later, I told them to tell him that I do like him, and that I was more freaked out than mad at the time, and that he needn’t be afraid.
 
And I thought that would be the end of it.

He went away to yeshivah, but my boys again reported that his brother mentioned to them something like, “Your mom really doesn’t like him, right?”
 
Not true! I actually like him a lot!
 
But I got that sinking “Uh-oh….” feeling again, and realized that I really needed to speak to the boy myself & apologize.
 
I kept wracking my brains to think of how I could contact him. A letter? A phone call? But either one meant going through the yeshiva, and I assumed the yeshiva would let the parents know (it was that kind of yeshiva) that this strange lady was contacting their son.

​Now, most people would be fine with that if you explain why you’re contacting their son. But the boy’s father is a bit strange and I wasn’t sure how he would respond to it, even after explaining why.
 
Around then, I heard a shiur about this very issue.

​The rabbi said that if you can’t find a way to contact a person to apologize, you should ask Hashem to help you. So I started davening to Hashem to help me rectify this issue.
 
At one point, I heard that the boy had come back home. Great!

​But then I realized that calling him would only work if he answered the phone, not his parents or his siblings. Ditto with sending him a letter or showing up at his home.
 
And it made me uncomfortable just imagining how his odd father would respond to any of it.
 
So I kept davening.
 
Then the first night of Rosh Hashanah arrived. My husband and most of our sons had gone off to shul when I heard a knock on the door.
 
I opened it to see this exact boy standing right in front of me!
 
I couldn’t believe it—Hashem had provided the opportunity to make amends!
 
The boy towered over me (he’d grown a lot since he was 12) while standing in this tough-guy posture, and asked if my oldest sons were around.
 
(One was, actually.)
 
But before I went to get my son, I took the opportunity to apologize for the time I’d chased him out of the house, yelling at him.
 
He tossed his head. “Eh,” he grunted. “It’s okay." He paused as he shifted his eyes and tossed his head, before looking me right in the eye in a challenging manner and said, "I deserved it.”
 
“No, you didn’t!” I said. “You were a really good boy. I could’ve just explained to you nicely not to do that kind of thing. I didn't need to yell at you. You're not the kind of kid who needed to be yelled at. I just freaked out and I wasn’t thinking. And I’m really sorry.”
 
He looked me right in the eye again, as if sizing me up. Then he shrugged his shoulders and made a non-committal sound.

I realized he was waiting for the conversation to end and for my son to appear.

(Yes, this kind of scenario is very uncomfortable for 16-year-old boys.)
 
But there was one more thing I needed to do.
 
“Do you forgive me?” I said. “I am really sorry and I won’t do it again. Do you forgive me?”
 
He looked me in the eye again for a moment, looking all tough and adorable again, and grunted, “Yeah.”

And I could tell, despite all the posturing, he really meant it.

He needed an apology & I needed to apology.

These are genuine needs.
 
“Thank you,” I said, very relieved, and went to get my son.
 
I learned from this that if you really want to make up with someone, but can’t find a way to do it, then Hashem really does help you—even going so far as to bring the person right to your doorstep, if necessary.

For another true story of searching—and finding—the owners of a lost object after prayer:
how-hashem-helps-scrub-the-slate-before-the-day-of-judgment.html

For the story of how asking Hashem for help worked to decipher whether another party felt wronged:
to-apologize-or-not-apologize-when-youre-not-sure-if-youre-reading-the-situation-accurately.html