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| Is this the last time we have changed? |
Whenever the city lays a sidewalk, the name of the city is imprinted in the new slabs of cement, along with the year in which they were poured. Between the Rebbe's house and the shul there are some new slabs that have recently replaced the old, crumbling ones, and hence, have been stamped "City of Milwaukee 2012". The rest of the sidewalk slabs each boast the year in which they were poured and set. Some read 2001, others 1997, and some go back to the 80's or before.
We are not concrete. People are meant to grow, to change, never to remain the same. But if we take a penetrating, honest look at ourselves, when was the last time we really changed? Five years? Ten years? Perhaps longer?
When we were born, Hashem poured us into our physical bodies, into this world. The purpose was so that we could aspire to a higher calling than that of a corporeal existence. The idea was that we would not harden in place, but that we would rise to the challenge and grow upwards, build inwards and become better, taller people, and closer to Hashem.
When we were born, Hashem poured us into our physical bodies, into this world. The purpose was so that we could aspire to a higher calling than that of a corporeal existence. The idea was that we would not harden in place, but that we would rise to the challenge and grow upwards, build inwards and become better, taller people, and closer to Hashem.
Have we done that, or are we basically the same as we've always been?
Do we truly believe in the possibility for drastic and meaningful change? Or, have we lost faith in G-d's trust that we can renew ourselves?
Standing in front of the Master of the World on Rosh Hashana, and ultimately when we shed our bodies at the end of a hundred twenty short years, we will be quite uncomfortable if the last time we made changes in our person was when we were originally poured into the path of life. We need to take a long, hard look in the mirror and see if we are not stamped with the personal equivalent of "City of Milwaukee, 1980". May we merit to prepare adequately for the coming year, and may it be a year of true spiritual growth for every one of us.
(Based on the Rebbe's remarks this past Shabbos - Matos Maasei 5772.)
(Based on the Rebbe's remarks this past Shabbos - Matos Maasei 5772.)
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Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
May we be zoche that "bechinas sidewalk" should end, that we may make concrete changes in ourselves, and become the children who know.
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