Albuquerque Ruth
Inspired by our visit to the tomb of Hannah Senesh and other heroes, and to the candle lighting Friday night at the home of Chaim Dovid and his wife.
Roughly to the following rhythm: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S-aPyU1o8iM
Links for each woman mentioned are found at the end of the song.
I grew up a young girl like others
Just outside of Albuquerque
My name it was Ruth, we valued country and truth
Just like our neighbors, but something was quirkey.
When I turned eight, I first noticed
The dress my Mom wore Friday night
My Dad drank sweet wine, table covered with fine
linen and napkins, and china bright white.
Later I saw her go downstairs
To a locked room my father had made
At 12 it was my turn, she said I now could learn
About the family secret, no need to be afraid.
She led me into the small room
Candlesticks on a wooden table
That her mother gave to her, and to me she would confer
To light and make a blessing, the best that I am able.
I struck the match and brought it to the candle
And said the prayer that she taught to me:
Blessed is the match, consumed in kindling flame
Blessed is the wick, we light to praise your Name.
Blessed are the hands, that cover eyes with love
Blessed is the flame, that we’re the keepers of. . . .
Soon later I had a strange dream
Mom and I, distant time and land
In a small home we squeezed, they were speaking Portuguese
The mother unlocked the floor, we followed her command.
There we were joined by many others
Outside the sounds of swords and screams
She told us not to worry, though we would have to hurry
To learn the secret of our mission, our destiny and dreams.
She gave us each a candle
Hers lit from the burning floor above
Each woman spoke her name, as she passed along the flame
First came Donna Gracia, face aglow with love.
Soon came Henrietta and Sarah
Hannah strapped to her parachute
To Golda of Milwaukee, a young hero name of Malki
Then came a young mother, with a tray full of fruit.
She said our task it is demanding
So let’s nourish our bodies and soul
Served us each a tangerine, danced with her tambourine
My Mom held me close, said we’ll come through this whole.
She said her lesson you should follow
Her house open to everyone
Hold your head high, there’s no need to cry
Her soul still lives on, that’s Rifke of Mumbai.
With love for each other we rejoiced
Held our candles and sang with one voice:
Blessed is the match, consumed in kindling flame
Blessed is the wick, we light to praise your Name.
Blessed are the hands, that cover eyes with love
Blessed is the flame, that we’re the keepers of.
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The women mentioned in this song:
Donna Gracia:
http://amazingartdecodivas.blogspot.co.il/2010/06/dona-gracia-nasi-woman-of-ages-c-by.html
Henrietta Szold:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henrietta_Szold
Sarah Schenirer:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sarah_Schenirer
Hannah Senesh:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hannah_Szenes
Golda of Milwaukee (Meir):
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golda_Meir
Malki (Roth):
http://www.kerenmalki.org/About_Malki.htm
Rifke of Mumbai (Holzberg):
http://shaping-the-future.wikispaces.com/Rav+Gabi+and+Rivka+Holzberg