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The Crumb of Affliction

(By Rabbi Sheryl Nosan-Lantzke, remembering the Little One)

This is the crumb of affliction

Which ate our foremothers

In the lands of affliction-

Hungry for safety

Hoping for sustenance

For selves and sweet ones.

 

Knowing distress

Scouring, scrubbing, slaving, sweating

Not sanitizing or sanctifying but

Sane-a-tizing

For something

As evasive as that last crumb

Which cannot be captured,

So must be blessed away.

 

So this year we celebrate

Slaves to hope

In perfect imperfection.

Next year in a higher place?

 

This year’s crumbs afflicted

The year’s fears pressed us to crumble

 

But we can

Believe

Because we do relieve

And we can re-leave

With courage–

Crumbs and all.

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