S.B. spent several hours in shul with me on each day of ראש השנה (supplied with ample provisions and certain plastic trucks and related equipment). On the second day, I was honored with מפטיר and the הפטרה. S. accompanied me, and about halfway through my reading of the הפטרה, I felt a small, round object placed into my hand. It was a clementine, which S. had apparently handed to me in a wordless supplication that I peel it for him, my being rather preoccupied notwithstanding. I continued to read the הפטרה, trying, not entirely successfully, to stifle my chuckles at the incongruity of the situation – and then I arrived at the passage’s profoundly stirring conclusion, which I read with newfound insight and appreciation:
הֲבֵן יַקִּיר לִי אֶפְרַיִם, אִם יֶלֶד שַׁעֲשֻׁעִים–כִּי-מִדֵּי דַבְּרִי בּוֹ, זָכֹר אֶזְכְּרֶנּוּ עוֹד; עַל-כֵּן, הָמוּ מֵעַי לוֹ–רַחֵם אֲרַחֲמֶנּוּ, נְאֻם-יְקוָק.1
- ירמיה לא:יט [↩]