She sits up. Looks into the white round mirror that sits atop the Old English-style makeup table she’d bought long ago.

She’d wanted to have something beautiful something she bought herself not another hand-me-down.

It had cost more than she made in a month — all the money she’d had in the world at that moment — but for those few moments it was the table of a princess.

Though in time its legs would wobble a little and it would chip all over and the drawer handles would come off it was a fantasy she’d wanted to have just that once.

So when she’d woken up this morning years later exactly at the crack of dawn and sat in front of it there was something about the way the light shined into the mirror for that split second before the sun became too strong and she saw the face of a woman like a woman from ancient times a woman with determination and G-dly grace a woman who would save the Jewish people. A woman like Yehudis or Esther.

As the sun got stronger she looked again and saw it was only her.

And she needed to get ready to go to work.

She goes downstairs to make a coffee and opens all the shades to look atJerusalemat just that moment in the morning as the sun rises and the buildings shine like gold.

A moment when you don’t see how old they are or their cracks and crevices.

Her ancient beloved humble city.

And as the light becomes stronger she sees the floors that haven’t been swept and the chicken bones left out on a plate from the night before.

In that second life goes back to normal.

She just wants her coffee.

No higher goal or aspirations just a moment of a little soothing warmth.

And she will have to go and do the mundane things of a day like clean floors and food shopping just asJerusalemwill have to turn herself into places that exchange money coffee shops and tourist spots.

But in that split moment for just a second all was revealed.

$$$separator$$$

A woman calls regularly with what she feels are sincere shalom bayis problems. Her main complaint about her husband is that he doesn’t care about her enough and certainly doesn’t help her in the house at all.

She kvetches a little we wrap it up and life goes on.

The other day she calls with this story:

It was a windy day and she had hung out her laundry. They live on the third floor. She only has two sweaters and her favorite one was blown off the line into the neighbor’s garden. This neighbor has lots of thorn bushes and a personality to match.

This woman let out a huge sigh. Her husband asked her what was wrong. She told him about the wind and the sweater. And he said “I’ll go get it for you.”

“Really?” she said in disbelief

“Of course” her husband said. “You’re my wife. Why wouldn’t I want to do this for you?”

She was in shock.

I see this story as one and the same with the story of the woman who looks at herself in the mirror and for that one moment sees the spark of her true but hidden potential.

I see it when I’m preparing for Shabbos and I don’t have another ounce of strength and I think I can’t go on another second but something inside pushes me to make that extra effort for the sake of and the honor of Shabbos.

I see it in the story of Purim a chance to peek into our true potential like a slit in a dark tapestry like the crack of dawn.