It Is Not Far – Poem

וְ לֹֽ א־רְ חֹקָ ה הִֽ וא It Is Not Far By Therese Berkowitz

They left with everything on their backs. Kids, carpets, kitchen things, clothes, and let us not forget the celebrated unleavened bread. For forty years across many deserts and over many waves of hot dry sands.

Did they leave the great grandparents behind?

Me? I needed the 40 footer. 2,393 cubic feet packed with 217 boxes and bubble wrapped objects of necessity. Hauled by a tractor trailer to a pier, then loaded onto a cargo ship. For forty days across many seas and over many waves of cold dark waters.

I had to leave the great grandparents behind.

Still, I was luckier than that generation that came before. I sailed through the air and landed on the land flowing with milk and honey and met my stuff when it arrived on my street. I watched the delivery men haul every box and bubble wrapped chair and table and bed and sofa on their backs up the stairs to my new home.

And still I went out to buy more. A new shabbat plata.

With very wide smiles and genuine joy, the brother and sister who worked

in the appliance store near Herzl Street welcomed me — the olah chadasha. They wanted to know where I was from and where I was going. “How far do you have to walk”, they asked, “with your new shabbat plata? It is heavy”, they said. “Not far”, I said, “my new place is just down the block”. They tied it up with a rope and handle. They tested the rope and they tested the handle to make sure it would all hold. Then they made me test it too. “Are you sure you can walk with it?” they asked. “Yes”, I said, “It is not far”. o