Sunrise

We’re all awaiting the moment when we can recite Bircas Hachamah, the once-in-28-years event when the sun completes its cycle and is in the exact place it was at the time of Creation. In unison we raise our voices and recite the brachah of “oseh maaseh bereishis” and then “shehecheyanu v’kiyemanu v’higiyanu lazeman hazeh.” You enact the wonders of Creation, You have given us life, sustained us, and brought us to this occasion.

There’s a hushed silence, a sense of wonder at the enormity of the moment, as we stand serenely under the sun, before the day explodes into a frenzy of final Pesach preparations.

My cellphone is tucked into my clammy palm. I look down at the darkened screen and make out the words, savor them: second night Chol Hamoed at the Ramada, 9 p.m.

The balmy sunbeams feel like an embrace from Above, blanketing me in unconditional love, reminding me that He’s there, even when it’s cloudy out, even when the sky’s gray.