Suddenly, out of nowhere, a strong gust of wind blew over and slammed the upright sukkah wall onto the floor, pinning us to the ground under the weight of the oversized panels. We did not know what hit us (quite literally). It was hilarious. Tall, lanky Tatty and small, little me crouched under the collapsed white wall. We laughed and laughed. And laughed some more as we extricated ourselves from the mess. We brushed ourselves off. The panels were left in the backyard, we went back inside, and my father returned to what he does best: learning Torah. Cousin Shimon came over that night and tried to help my father get the sukkah up. They stood and spoke divrei Torah for hours. We children had a grand time running around and playing games under the dark sky. Not much sukkah-building got done that night, but fret not. Even in those years, before the boys grew up, we always had a sukkah; sometimes it was built earlier, sometimes later, and sometimes even later. Our sukkah was so beloved. Unlike the easy-to-assemble sukkahs of today, we put in hours of work and made do with less-thanfavorable circumstances and materials. We gave much thought and time to our sukkah and took great pride in our work. And then, at last, when everything was done — the shlock, the decorations, the lights, the Shabbos clocks! (let’s not get started…), the tables, the chairs, the tablecloths, the dishes, the beds (who’s sleeping here, who’s sleeping in Uncle Meir’s sukkah, and who’s sleeping in married Chaim’s sukkah?); when we finally slowed down, relaxed and made Kiddush in our beloved sukkah, we sensed what our father knew, that we were sitting in a miniature Gan Eden. The sukkah’s loving embrace made us feel cherished and secure. We breathed in the heady scents of my mother’s delicious, lovingly cooked food and listened to the enjoyable mingling of various nischaos and zemiros from our neighbors. Our eyes turned upward to gaze through the s’chach at the starry sky, and we happily, sincerely and so gratefully whispered a heartfelt, “Shehecheyanu.” Postscript: My parents recently moved to a new apartment. It’s smaller than their previous apartment, but it has one overwhelming advantage: a driveway with a leveled cement floor!
We’d hold our breaths, but our walls would hold up with dignity and grace.
232 / THE MONSEY VIEW / October 10, 2019 www.themonseyview.com / 845.600.8484