TELL magazine: December 2020 - Emanuel Synagogue

in their eyes. He bought all her silver
and when she left he compared the
two rimonim; they were identical,
the matching pair. He then began
to do some research and after a few
weeks and help from the Jewish
Agency he found the man who sold
him the rimon. He asked him the
same questions: did he have brothers
or sisters, how old were they? He
discovered that he had one sister,
three years younger than him but
assumed she was dead because he
never heard from her. Denny was
now sure…
“I know where your sister is, she is
here in Israel,” he said, “the rimon
you saved and the one she saved are
identical, let me take you to her now.”
The man started to shake and sweat
and did not know whether to laugh
or cry. They went to Denny’s car and
it WAS his sister. Denny writes: “A
history of forty two years passed in
that room in seconds. You need two
rimonim for the Torah. They are
together now. Nothing can happen
to them anymore. They are in Israel.
Brother and sister- the two rimonim
for the Torah.”
What a remarkable story, made even
more so when you think about all
the moments that it could have gone
wrong, all the ways that brother and
sister could have missed the chance
to meet again; if one had not kept
their rimon, if they had gone to a
different gallery, if the owner had
not decided to buy and then keep
the first rimon…the list goes on. I
wonder what we would have done.
Would we have chosen to save
objects from the synagogue? In those
desperate hours, what would we have
decided to rescue?
So many of our stories today are told
and reflected in the objects lovingly
rescued and saved from generations
past. We hold and treasure the items
that they held and treasured. And
they are more than mere objects
for they contain memories, hopes,
dreams and loves. Sometimes the
objects are meaningful only when
we know the story, other times,
their value and connection is deep
and clear. I have a brightly coloured
organza scarf, small, threadbare,
it would mean nothing to anyone
else, but for me it holds memories of
my Nona. Me rummaging through
her shelves, finding the coloured
scarves and dancing around her
room imagining: sometimes being,
an exotic middle eastern dancer,
other times a ballerina. I hold it to
my cheek and I can even still smell
a little of her cologne all these years
later. It’s a treasured possession filled
with memories and love, music and
dance.
Today, in a world where we seem to
accumulate so many things, I wonder
what we hold precious? What would
objects, discovered or uncovered
centuries later, reflect about us: our
values and our journeys? What are
the items which hold memories for
you and your family? Maybe during
the summer months we can find a
chance to reflect upon the objects in
our lives and what story they will tell
in the future.
23