| Sister Shmooze |

Weathering the Storm

By Emmy Leah Stark Zitter and Marcia Stark Meth and Miriam Stark Zakon | May 17, 2017

S torms. Blizzards. Hurricanes. Words that evoke images of mass destruction — fallen trees washed-out bridges power outages treacherous ice car pileups. We’ve all weathered storms of some sort sometimes literally occasionally figuratively: in our feelings in our relationships in crisis situations. We’ve been deluged with work mothered teens with raging hormones witnessed tempestuous relationships.

Storms however can have a positive side. We’ve heard crowds erupt in thunderous applause. We’ve been struck by flashes of lightning (brainstorms!) showered with gifts inundated by torrents of happiness. Climatically storms swirl around an eye — an eye that brings moments of calm and peace amid the turbulence. Spiritually storms often bring out the best in people — uniting them arousing feelings of concern worry and love for others. When the weather grows bad people calm one another’s fears protect each other from harm help those who need to rebuild console those who grieve.

Yidden especially do well in storms. We usually come out stronger. Not only do we help one another we also find ways to live al pi halachah according to Jewish law under the direst conditions.

We Sisters have experienced our share of storms — of the literal figurative and spiritual varieties. And we’ve weathered them in all parts of the world from Connecticut to Florida to Beit Shemesh. Come in out of the rain while we regale you with our turbulent tales.

Marcia relives…

Hurricane Hakafos

Boca Raton Simchas Torah 2005. Men dancing with Torahs beneath swinging skeletons witches and ghosts. Kids waving flags perched atop their fathers’ shoulders pawing at jack-o-lanterns bats and spiderwebs. A man held aloft singing “Mipi Keil ” the top of his tallis grazing pictures of tombstones. Elderly people in wheelchairs on the sidelines watching the spectacle listening to the singing — expressions ranging from disbelief to thrill.

What??

A week and a half earlier. We knew she was coming. Wilma. Pounding across the Yucatan Peninsula swirling across the Gulf of Mexico toward South Florida. So why were we heading straight toward her?

To be with our kids of course. Our oldest son and his family had just moved there. A mere hurricane wasn’t going to prevent our spending Succos with them. Besides it beat staying home and worrying.

Wilma was forecast to hit Boca on Hoshana Rabbah so we spent the first calm-before-the-storm days dining sumptuously in the fan-cooled succah. On Chol Hamoed I switched into child-of-survivor mode stocking up on essentials: drinking water juice boxes powdered milk canned goods flashlights batteries and seven-day yahrtzeit candles. While my family laughed at the crowds hunkering down for the incoming storm I knew that practical planning does not constitute panic. It’s just facing reality.

Hoshana Rabbah. All night we listened to raging winds torrential rain and ominous crashing noises. In the morning Boca lost power. Although it was daytime the house was dark with all the blinds drawn. Without a/c or open windows we shvitzed. While windows rattled the men said Hoshanos by candlelight and the kids colored by flashlight sipping chocolate milk from those little boxes and gobbling corn niblets from the cans I’d bought.

During the storm’s one-hour eye we ventured outside — after extricating ourselves from the tree limbs blocking the front door. What a sight! Cars beneath fallen trees. Toys and tricycles strewn everywhere blown out from no-longer-screened-in porches. Birds caught in gusts even during the eye — flying backward! (Excerpted from Family First Issue 542)

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