After a year of lockdowns and loss, distance and division, it was finally time to rejoice — together — on the mountaintop magnet of eternal promises and salvation.
And so we came by the tens of thousands to Rabi Shimon. There, at his gravesite, we would shake off a year of pain and trial. We would dance in tight circles of unity and shared purpose. We would draw strength from the legacy of faith that is woven into the fabric of Meron, and return home with a glow in our eyes, a spring in our step, unburdened shoulders and uplifted hearts.
We had so hoped for a Lag B’Omer of light and joy and release. But we don’t write the script and we don’t choose our roles. We don’t decide when to enter the scene or when it’s time to leave.
That night on the mountaintop, amid the leaping flames and leaping spirits, the true Director hand-picked a selection of the best and brightest among us for a higher calling on a higher sphere.
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