Chayeii Sarah 5785: Life, Death and Kindness

I am wearing a t-shirt this morning. “Be the good. Believe there is good.” 

These are the years of the life of Sarah. Sarah was one hundred years and twenty years and seven years and Sarah died. Apparently in Kiriyat Arba, also known as Hebron. Abraham comes to mourn for her. He buys a burial plot. That’s why some believe Jews have the rights to the West Bank. He eulogizes her. Some say that his eulogy was the poem from Proverbs that we call Eishet Chayil, a Woman of Valor. And he knows he needs to find a wife for Isaac. Life continues. Life has to continue. The covenant has to continue. After the heart ache of the akeda, the binding of Isaac and the death of Sarah, he has to do right by Isaac. 

He sends his servant, not named in the text but called Eliezer, back to the land of his birth on this mission, to find a wife. 

Eliezer met Rebecca at the well: 

“Drink, my lord,” she said, and she quickly lowered her jar upon her hand and let him drink. When she had let him drink his fill, she said, “I will also draw for your camels, until they finish drinking.” Quickly emptying her jar into the trough, she ran back to the well to draw, and she drew for all his camels. 

 

That’s a lot of water. And a lot of rushing. A lot of running.  

 

Often Rebecca is described as having great kindness, empathy. Why?  

She could have just given Eliezer water for himself. She volunteered to water the camels. All 10. Camels can drink between 20 to 40 gallons in one sitting, A gallon is about 5 pounds. Great for weight training! Rebecca would have had to draw, pull up between 1,600 and 3,200 pounds of water, one pitcher at a time. 

The word gamal, from which we get camel in English, is an interesting one. Soon you may play driedle with a gimel on it—same word, that’s why the gimel has a tail. (and nun has no tail at all!) But it also gives us the phrase, gomal chasidim tovim, who bestows lovingkindness on us in formal English or who fills us up (like a camel) and the phrase, gemilut chasadim, deeds of lovingkindness. Chesed is important. Kindness is important. Empathy is important.  

Chesed to animals especially important. There has been a lot of discussion in the Klein household and even in this community about how to treat animals, whether we can pray for animals and more since our dog Caleb and Simon were attacked two weeks ago. People have in fact been incredibly kind and we are grateful.  

We’ve had people call, people who have said mi sheberach prayers, people who have visited with their dogs, some who dropped off gifts, and people who have helped transport. All of those are acts of kindness, gemilut chasidim chesed.  

We are taught in the Talmud that we are commanded to feed our animals even before we ourselves are fed. The Gemara derives this from the verse, “And I will give you grass in your field for your livestock—and then does it says “you will eat and be satisfied (Deut. 11).” Berachot 40a 

After the camel test…Eliezer dines at a big family feast. Perhaps a precursor to our own Thanksgiving feasts. He asks the family if they will allow Rebecca to go with him to be a bride for Isaac. There is some back and forth, some negotiation. Some jewelry given, even for the mom. The relatives insist on getting Rebecca’s permission. 

And they said, “Let us call the girl and ask for her reply.”  

They called Rebecca and said to her, “Will you go with this man?” And she said, “I will.” 

As we approach Thanksgiving dinner some advice: don’t ask the young people, “When are you going to get married. Or when are you going to have a child. Or anything about finances or weight. Maybe not even about politics.  

This portion actually has three deaths. Sarah, Abraham and Ishmael. We learn much from watching how our patriarchs and matriarchs deal with the inevitable loss. One important lesson. Abraham died alone. Yet Isaac and Ishmael, both estranged from their father, come back together, long enough to bury Abraham. They then go their separate ways.  

Perhaps this is a model for our current world. We need to bury our dead and mourn too many senseless deaths. In Israel. In Lebanon. In Gaza. We need to stop the bloodshed and actively seek peace and pursue it. 

Earlier this week, our book group joined with Gail Borden Public Library for National Jewish Book Month. We read Rabbi Sharon Brous’s The Amen Effect. If I could summarize the book it would be show up. Just show up. For the big things and the little ones. For the sad things little funerals and the simchas, the joyous ones. 

As part of that discussion, I said that I tell families in the throes of grief that they will hear things from well-meaning people which may not be helpful. So like the topics to avoid at a Thanksgiving dinner, here are my top five things not to say to someone grieving: 

  1. G-d needed another angel
  2. They’re in a better place.
  3. 3. You can have another child
  4. 4. G-d has a plan.
  5. 5. G-d will never give you more than you can bear.

The important thing is to show up…that is an act of kindness. And to listen. Deeply listen. And to meet people where they are, wherever they may be.  

Rebecca teaches us to take this goal of boundless, unlimited lovingkindness, chesed, seriously. To challenge ourselves with real selfless commitment. Rebecca teaches us to be initiators, to look for times and places where we can be of service, where we can just show up, being proactive and useful, before others even expect it.  

We are taught by the Ba’al Shem Tov, the founder of the chasidic movemnt, that a soul may come into this world for seventy or eighty years, b’ezrat Hashem, with G-d’s help, with the sole purpose of doing a favor for someone else, for being kind, like Rebecca. That ability to help someone in need, that chesed, lovingkindness. Is what Eliezer sought, for he know that it was that essential trait that would determine the candidate to be a genuine matriarch of the Jewish people. (based on https://www.chabad.org/theJewishWoman/article_cdo/aid/763991/jewish/Rebecca-and-the-Camel-Test.htm ) 

Be like Rebecca. Be good. Be Kind.  

Lech Lecha 5785: To a new land

This week we are just three weeks into our most sacred text. Bereshit, the book of Genesis, the first book of the Torah. 

The world was created. We had our first murder. The world was nearly destroyed. We were told that would not happen again, at least not by water. The tower of babel and the confusion of languages. and then a long genealogy. We met Abraham. Three weeks.  

We are told that Noah was righteous in his generation and Abraham was righteous.  

I asked our Torah School kids what righteous means. It means being right, being correct, doing the right things.  

What was it that Abraham did that made his righteous? What is it that we can do to emulate Abraham? 

Our portion begins with the words, Lech Lecha. Go. Abraham is told to go. To leave his land, the land of his birth, his father’s house and go to the land that G-d will show him. Pretty powerful stuff, pretty powerful language. Why does he have to leave everything he knows? To focus. The Hebrew construction is a bit odd. Lech Lecha often gets translated as go forth. But the Hebrew offers another clue, Go to yourself.  Find yourself.  

Leaving is hard. Making space for something new with its promise of being better is hard. Yet, that is exactly what Abraham needs to do. What G-d demands him to do. He is forging a new path, a new future for himself and his family, both Sarah and Hagar, Isaac and Ishmael. He, in the midrash, smashed the idols of the past. 

For some, these last few weeks have been about smashing the idols of the past. For others, it didn’t happen the way they envisioned.  

Cat Zavis said: “Some continue to embrace the idolatry of the past, an idolatry that makes us believe that we are safe when we isolate ourselves, when we demean and oppress others, when we build walls. But in truth, we are safe when we are in community, when we see and uplift the Divine within one another, and when we build bridges and solidarity. Sometimes we harden our hearts and fear takes over. We have a choice. Are we willing to leave behind the idolatry on which our country was built and forge a new path? How might we do so? Can we take responsibility for the injustices of the past and build a future on justice and liberation for all? Being alive is truly miraculous. This is our time. We are all here for a reason. How will we show up and meet this moment? Let’s start by being together in a beloved community to nourish ourselves and dream of a future where everyone is nurtured and held in beloved communities.” 

Here we are, in beloved community, still in community. Many of us came from somewhere else, leaving behind the places we were born. That term that Cat Zavis used, beloved community, is one that Martin Luther King first used, is the name of a group that Josh Stober and I are participating in. We’re reading the book, Healing Resistance, trying to find a way to build a community that takes care of the most vulnerable, the widow, the orphan, the stranger amongst us. A world where people work together with the police and are not afraid of them, a world where people are respected and yes, loved. 

Abraham did more than just leave.  

He rescued his nephew Lot who was being held captive after which he broke bread with the King of Sodom, Malchizedek.  

He argued with G-d not to destroy Sodom and Gemorah. If there are just 50 righteous people…all the way down to 10. That is why our minyan is 10. 10 is the number for community. We are not meant to be alone. We are meant to be in community. Look around you. We here are in community. All of us together. Sometimes we agree and sometimes we don’t but we are all here.  

There is a power in being seen. Abraham…and Sarah do that. He saw the injustices of Sodom and Gemorah. He tried to protect the most vulnerable there. We nned to be seen…and to see. Look around you…we are building a community where people are heard and seen. Where people show up. Where people care about one another. 

Later we are told that his (and Sarah’s) tent were open on all four sides, so he could see who was coming. They practiced radical, audacious hospitality, from which we get the concept hachnasat orchim, welcoming guests.  

We are told that we should emulate G-d, “Just as G-d is merciful, we too should be merciful. Just as G-d is kind, we too should be kind.” The midrash continues that G-d’s kindness includes clothing the naked, Adam and Eve, feeding the hungry with manna in the wilderness and burying the dead. Abraham’s kindness includes feeding his three guests, even interrupting his conversation with G-d to rush to do so. 

Abraham certainly wasn’t perfect. He tries to pass off his wife as his sister. Twice. He throws Hagar (and Ishmael) out of the camp at his wife’s insistence as we will see next week. He almost sacrifices Isaac. Yet he gives us a model. Pirke Avot teaches, “In a place where there are no menschen, strive to be a good person.” That’s the message of Abraham. Be kind. Be loving. Be hospitable. Protect the vulnerable.  

G-d promises that Abraham and his descendants will be a blessing. They will be as numerous as the stars in the sky and the sands on the beach. 

Some of you may be feeling tired this week. Between the time change and the election cycle this has been a week like none other.  

Yet our haftarah offers comfort. 

The ETERNAL is God from of old,
Creator of the earth from end to end,
Who never grows faint or weary,
Whose wisdom cannot be fathomed—
Who gives strength to the weary,
They shall run and not grow weary,
They shall march and not grow faint. 

Anne Frank said, “It’s really a wonder that I haven’t dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.” 

The world is not yet as we would like it, as G-d and Abraham envisioned it. We learn from the Best Exotic Hotel Marigold: Everything will be alright in the end so if it is not alright it is not the end. The only real failure is the failure to try, and the measure of success is how we cope with disappointment. Remember you are everything, or you are nothing.”

Pirke Avot teaches: “Ours is not to finish the task, neither are we free to ignore it.” We are here in this time and place for a reason. Be like G-d. Be like Abraham. 

Vayera 5785: Being the Helper and Finding G-d

Today’s Torah portion is called Vayera, G-d appeared. Abraham is sitting at the entrance to his tent after his circumcision, no little surgery for an adult male at any stage, but particularly in those times. 

He saw three figures, (men, people, messengers, angels or as we just heard in the haftarah translation, agents), approach, standing near him. Abraham interrupts his visit with G-d, his conversation with G-d and runs, yes, runs, to welcome them.  

Fred Rogers from Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood is credited with saying that when things are scary, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” Those figures were the helpers. 

The verb here is nitzavim, just like a portion in Deuteronomy, “Atem nitzvavim hayom. You stand here today.” It continues, all of you. Your leaders, chiefs, old people, your wives, your little ones, your water drawers and wood choppers.” All of you. All of us. 

We learn two important things from this opening. G-d visits the sick so we should visit the sick. Abraham welcomes guests, strangers, whomever they may be.  

But Abraham and Sarah were not perfect people. Far from it. Yet they answered the call to be present, with a simple word “Hineini, I am here.” They are present. We need to be present. 

Many times, I am asked in a seemingly impossible situation, “Where is G-d.” Sometimes it is hard to see.  

This portion is full of sight and appearance. G-d appears. An angel or a messenger appears. Each messenger only has one responsibility, one action they must complete, one reason they have appeared. 

Sometimes it seems impossible to see the good. To see G-d. 

Today’s portion has two of the most painful stories in the Torah. Both of these we also read on Rosh Hashanah. I have wrestled with why. How do explain these painful stories to children, in particular.  

Perhaps they are about crying over children. Protecting children. Perhaps they are about new beginnings. Finding another way. Finding G-d in the midst of unspeakable tragedy.  

Sarah feels threatened by Hagar, worried for her child Isaac and demands that Abraham send them away, put them out of the camp. Abraham is told to listen to Sarah’s voice, and he does. He sends them away with just a skin of water and some bread.  

Hagar does not want to look on while her child dies of thirst in the desert. She cries out, “Let me not look on.” How desperate she must have been to not pray, “Save my child”. G-d hears the voice of the lad (not even named here). She cries for her child. G-d hears her pleas.  

“Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. She went and filled the skin with water, and let the boy drink.” 

Yet, in the very next chapter, Abraham hears a voice, telling him to take his son, his only son, the one he loves, take Isaac to a mountain G-d will show up and offer him as a sacrifice. Abraham prepares to do exactly that. Abraham who argued with G-d about Sodom and Gemorah, seems willing to do the unthinkable. The rabbis couldn’t understand that and invented the midrash, the dialogue here. Take your son. I have two sons. Your only son. They are each the only son of their mother. The one you love. I love them both. Take Isaac.  

So they leave on this three day journey without telling Sarah where they are going or what they are about to do. When Issac questions Abraham, Abraham answers that “It is God who will see to the sheep for this burnt offering, my son.” 

When Abraham looked up, his eye fell upon a ram, caught in the thicket by its horns. He saw a ram!  

And Abraham named that site Adonai-yireh, whence the present saying, “On GOD’s mount there is vision.” 

The message of these two stories is clear. We cannot sacrifice our children.  

It is alright to cry. Hagar cried. Sarah cried. Rachel cried. Hannah cried. About our children. About the world. And we cannot stop there. We need to open our eyes. We need to be Mr. Roger’s helpers. 

 Always, always we have to look for another way. We have to find another way. Don’t give up. Don’t lose hope. Keep searching. The water was there all along. The ram was there. The messengers were there. We need to answer the call to be present with Hineini. I am here. 

 “To love another person is to see the face of G-d. “ Victor Hugo, Les Mis 

Jeff Klepper who wrote the music to Shalom Rav, wrote a son, a bridge between Ahavat Olam and the Sh’ma. If we open up our eyes, maybe in the people who come to help, that is where we find the oneness of G-d.  

“Open up our eyes, teach us how to live.
Fill our hearts with joy and all the love You have to give
Gather us in peace as you lead us to Your name
And we will know that You are one. We will know that you are one.” 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGEhB-KYboo&t=78s 

Shabbat Noach 5785: Unity or Division? VOTE!

Today is my mother’s yahrzeit. So we study this parsha in her memory. Nelle Sicher Frisch.  

When she actually died is shrouded in some mystery. Either on Halloween, when she had her final heart attack and never regained consciousness, or on Election Day in 2008, when she took her last breath surrounded by those she loved. Every single one of us, including her, who had voted early, voted before she died. Then we turned on the election results and waited for the funeral home to come. 

Today we read the story of Noah’s ark. At the very end of story we learn that G-d makes a brit, a covenant, to never destroy the world again. At least by water. Yet, G-d seems to get frustrated, angry even quickly. There is a brief story, the Tower of Babel, that appears at the very end of our parsha. The people, still healing from the trauma of the flood come together to build this massive Torah. They seem to be united in language and a shared sense of purpose and community. But what is that purpose? Why are they building a tower to the heavens? Are they building this tower out of fear? Out of anger? Are they trying to draw close to G-d or attack G-d?  

Rabbi Menachem Creditor points our something I didn’t notice before. Call that life long learning. They build the tower in a valley, not on high ground. (Gen. 11:2). As he said, In a way, it’s an irony wrapped in hubris: trying to reach the heavens from the lowest point. Why build in a valley? The text doesn’t say directly, but perhaps it reflects how misplaced their fear and ambition were. In their desperation to control the world, some wanted to protect against another flood, others—a midrash teaches—wanted to challenge heaven itself. The rabbis tell us that when the tower grew tall, some people even shot arrows into the sky as if to strike back at God.” 

 “It’s powerful to consider this reaction. After a traumatic event, we know how easy it is to be consumed with rage, to direct anger outward. But the story invites us to recognize that the flood came because of humanity’s own cruelty and corruption (Gen. 6:13). In truth, we often bring our own storms and floods. Shooting arrows at heaven may feel cathartic, but it’s a diversion from the hard, holy work we are actually called to do: reflecting, changing, and doing better.” 

We are not at the lowest part. Yet things like the pandamic, inflation, job loss, rising anti-semitism, natural disasters make us long for what was, or what seems to have been. It seemed be a simpler time. 

A long time ago, Paul Glaser, a former CKI member, president, Men’s Club president, and my first ritual chair, talked about unity here. He called this corner “unity on division street.” And we still work from that perspective. We look out for each other. We plan events for each other. We feed people. We plant bulbs. We clean up litter. We try to make the world, or at least our small corner of it, better. That’s called Tikkun Olam, repairing the world. Like the classic story from the Zohar, we gather the shards back together again. At least our small corner of it.  

 We don’t always understand each other’s faith and belief. We don’t try to convince each other that they are wrong and we’re right. Sometimes it feels like we don’t even speak the same language. Tiffany Henderson has been teaching me the world bougie. It is a term, perhaps a derogatory slang word in the African American community, to describe those who are wealthier or upwardly mobile people, usually other Black people, who were seen to be socially pretentious. I taught her JAP, a term I don’t hear so much anymore, for Jewish American Princess, a stereotypical well-to-do or spoiled American Jewish girl or woman.  

Both are upwardly mobile, perhaps trying to build those towers to the heavens. It’s hubris that both communities joke about. Sort of.  

While we are a political free zone here at CKI, a partizan one would be better. My mother taught me never to discuss politics or religion in public. It’s not polite. It hurts the polite unity we’ve built. 

Yet I stand here today unable to do that completely. Call it an occupational hazard. I am aware of three recent events aimed at the Jewish community.  

The first is an ad released by the Republican Jewish Coalition that trades in various stereotype and promotes the fear over rising anti-semitism. https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=vnXSm. They conclude there is only one way that as Jews they can vote.  

(And still there is more. The same Jewish deli just filmed a Kamala ad: https://www.jta.org/2024/10/31/politics/hymies-the-philly-jewish-deli-featured-in-a-trump-ad-is-now-the-setting-for-a-harris-spot, announced after I initially wrote this!)

The second is an email that I received from the ADL Center on Extremism that there will be rallies in 30 communities including Chicago to protest the perceived genocide in the Middle East:  

“Local organizers of at least two of the protests — in Albuquerque, NM and Raleigh, NC — have announced their intention to march to polling places during early voting hours. Other protests may also take place in the vicinity of early voting locations. Another protest scheduled to take place at a location of political significance is the one in Milwaukee, WI, that is set to take place outside of a Democratic Party of Wisconsin field office… Some of the previous protests co-sponsored by these groups have platformed threatening language directed at Zionists or which have escalated into vandalism and violent confrontations with law enforcement or counter-protesters. Election-related activities and rhetoric urging Americans to vote against both major political parties have been commonplace among anti-Israel activists over the past year.” 

Last weekend Chicagoland, West Rogers Park a highly Jewish neighborhood. The person appears to have targeted an Orthodox young man walking to shul, someone who looks “stereotypically” Jewish. As I understand it the alleged shooter than shot at police officers who took him down. Based on information recovered in his cell phone in addition to attempted murder charges, he was eventually charged with terrorism and hate crimes. I want to remind you that charges do not equal a conviction. This still needs to be adjudicated. Nor do I want to additionally raise anyone’s anxiety. As we do almost every week and as was suggested by the ADL email, we have reviewed our CKI security protocols and are looking at additional things.  I don’t believe we have an actually threat here. And I don’t want to be naive. I will never take your safety for granted. 

The third communication is an email I received just yesterday from Ha rega, in Hebrew characters, on my CKI email. I do not know or recognize the sender at all. It tells me why I have an obligation as a rabbi to tell you who to vote for. It too leans into fear.  

Let me be clear. I will not tell you who to vote for. I value your intelligence too much. You are highly educated and can make your own informed decisions. And. I am told by law enforcement, that it is probably a Russian bot. Don’t get confused by those masquerading.  

Jews have not always had the right to vote. As colonial re-enactors in Chelmsford, we learned that only white, male Christian landowners could vote. Black men did not gain the right to vote until 1870. Women did not gain the right to vote in this country until 1920. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 was signed into law on the conference room table of the Religious Action Center of the Reform Movement. Jews have been in the vanguard of protecting our right to vote and in getting out the vote. 

Yet, the Jewish community is not a monolith. There are many opinions. You may have them in your own families. I know I do. There are many opinions here at CKI. We know the joke about two Jews and three opinions. We know that we argue about everything. Even about the word argue. Some would prefer debate because arguing can lead to civil discord. 

In Proverbs we learn: “Iron sharpens iron.” It is a phrase that refers to the idea that people can sharpen and refine each other through discussion and interaction. The phrase comes from Proverbs 27:17, which says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another” (Yes, I changed that translation to be gender inclusive!) 

We, Jews, preserve that kind of debate in the Talmud. It sharpens our discussion and makes us better. It is the minority opinion, It is the model for our own Supreme Court.   

Yet, how we do that is important. We do it with respect, with care, with active listening. Not with violence. 

 

Let me be clear again. The threats of violence are real. I worry about voter intimidation. I worry about poll workers. I worry about the day after the election. I worry about charges and counter charges of Jewish loyalty. But if anyone asks you to participate in violence, using that old phrase “just say no.” Then call one of the election hotlines. The ACLU toll free number for starters is 1-866-OUR-VOTE. https://www.aclu.org/know-your-rights/voting-rights  

We can agree to disagree on matters of policy. We can find ways to have civil discourse, both here at CKI and at Thanksgiving dinners. What we cannot do is participate in violence. What we cannot do is give up our rights to vote or our identity. 

On Monday night I will be participating in a panel on political violence and religious response. Not sure whether my mother would be proud or angry. It is sponsored by the Elgin Human Relations Commission at 5:30 PM at the Centre of Elgin. I’ll be joined by several local pastors from all denominations.  

This arose out of the fear some residents expressed of not feeling safe to wear their religious garb. I have had similar discussions with some of you about kippot, Jewish jewelry, mezuzot. My answer remains the same. I continue to wear mine proudly. And I understand the fear and do not want to minimize it.  

I stand here today, as I have done before to urge you to vote, although I know many of you have already. I will not tell you who to vote for. Just vote. Exercise your right. 

Back in 2016 I wrote a prayer for voting.  

https://www.theenergizerrabbi.org/2016/11/08/the-joy-of-voting/ 

I did it again in 2020 coupled with an evening of teaching about Jewish civic engagement. 

https://www.theenergizerrabbi.org/2020/11/03/pre-election-teaching-on-judaism-and-civic-engagement-in-memory-of-my-mother/  

My mother’s favorite prayer, the one she read at her own confirmation in Saint Louis in 1938 was “Grant us peace.” I offer it here as a model of how Jews pray for our country and the world.  

“Grant us peace, Your most precious gift, O Eternal Source of peace, and give us the will to proclaim its message to all the peoples of the earth. Bless our country, that it may always be a stronghold of peace, and its advocate among the nations. May contentment reign within its border, health and happiness within its homes. Strengthen the bonds of friendship among the inhabitants of all lands, and may the love of Your name hallow every home and every heart. Blessed is the Eternal God, the Source of peace. ” (Gates of Prayer, based on UPB1)

Every week we pray for our leaders and advisors. This week, especially this week, is no exception.

Rabbi Creditor reminds us that “our parsha holds up a mirror to our humanity. Babel represents more than misguided ambition; it’s a warning against misguided unity. They shared a single language, perhaps even a single mindset, yet it led to a unity without understanding, a closeness without compassion. 

We live in a world rich in diversity, where no two people are exactly the same. Each soul carries a unique facet of the Divine image. This week, as we face a tense moment here in America and beyond, may we cherish that diversity, lean into empathy, and resist the urge to build towers that only serve some of us. Let’s build spaces that hold everyone. We don’t need to erase our differences or speak a single language to find unity. Instead, we’re invited to a unity of purpose, one that celebrates the extraordinary gift of our differences and uses them to create deeper connections.” 

He is correct. Our parsha teaches the G-d made a covenant with Noah, a righteous man in his generation. to never destroy the world again. Our obligation is to keep building this world, based on love, on empathy, on compassion.  

Here is my prayer for 2024: 

I stand here today,
Hineini
Ready.
Ready to exercise my right.
My right to exercise my voice.
My right to vote 

Guide me
With wisdom
With compassion
With care 

Help me 
To shut out anger
To ignore fear and anxiety
To stand here
In this very moment..

Help me
To cast a vote
My vote
Reflecting my values
To make the world a better place.

I stand here today.
Ready,
Hineini.