Singing in the rain is not exactly a normal activity, right? So let me explain. There was once a movie called Singin’ in the Rain, starring the outstanding dancer, Gene Kelly. Some folks believed that Kelly’s character was a bit tsudrayt (confused) because, although it was raining “cats and dogs,” he continued to dance and sing, “I’m singing in the rain….”
He was thinking of his lady friend, of course, but to many people, Kelly was delivering another message, an even more important one, which was to celebrate life even when times are difficult. It’s not a Yiddishe song (though its lyrics were written by a Yid) but it fits our tradition. We have been instructed to worship G-d with simcha (joy) even when we encounter shvair (difficult) times. And thus, we, too, sing in the rain. (Incidentally, in Yiddish the word “shvair” also refers to a father-in-law. “So why is a shvair called a shvair?” you may ask.
Is der efehr (the answer is) that a good shvair (father- in- law) is shvair (difficult) to obtain, while a bad shvair is shvair to dump.
“Nu, stick to the topic” you may say, and, as usual, you are right.
* * *
There is a Yiddish saying which goes: “Yedder mentch trugt ah peckle – Every person carries a load.” So here are a few peckelach of my own:
When I was a youngster, our family lived in Milan, Italy. My father, a Yid born in Lodz, Poland, was cantor in the Tempio Israelitico. You may wonder vee kumpt (how) does a Polish-born Yid became a cantor in an Italian synagogue. Iz azoy (so I’ll explain). My father had a beautiful voice, and when he discovered that Yidden in Milan were searching for a cantor, he applied for the position. When told that the nusach (prayer style) was Sefard, he learned the Sefardi nusach, and after having a hearing, the congregation hired him, for life.
He held the position for 15 years – until the Fascist regime expelled what they called foreigners of the “Jewish race.” The new decree was very alarming to our family, as it meant we had to leave. But as things turned out, it was a bracha (blessing), because many Jews who remained in Italy were doomed.
So where was there to flee? Eretz Yisrael was the first choice, but at that time the British were the “caretakers” of the Holy Land, and saving Jewish lives was not on their agenda. The U.S.A. had a restrictive immigrant policy and required an affidavit with evidence of future employment so that we, chas veshalom (G-d forbid) would not be a burden to the country! Similar to the British, saving lives was not on their agenda.
Fortunately, my uncle, Mordechai Lichtenstein, had migrated to America earlier and held a position in a shul located in Clarksdale, Mississippi. He and of course the Ribono Shel Olam (G-d) saved our lives. Vee azoy (how)? you may ask.
Uncle Mordechai approached the shul’s board of directors and pleaded with them to provide an affidavit stating that they would hire my father as a cantor. Without such a document, the doors to entering the U.S. were locked and our fate sealed.
Initially, the board denied the request stating that there just wasn’t enough money to afford a cantor. However, after observing the tears streaming from my uncle’s eyes as he explained the consequence of not leaving Europe, their Yiddishe neshamos (souls) prevailed, and they issued the affidavit. Our family was forever grateful to the Ribono Shel Olam (G-d), to Uncle Mordechai, and to the board of directors of the congregation.
In Italy, our furniture and other belongings were gathered and sold for a pittance as the Fascist chiyess (beasts) confiscated whatever was left. We left Milano, and thus we were “singin’ in the rain.” We boarded a train for France amidst apprehension, and we were on our way to the goldeneh medina (golden country) as some called the U.S.A.
As for the trip, I recall the ship rocking back and forth and passengers faces turning a light shade of green! Food was limited, and some of it we had never seen before. Grapefruit juice was served in glasses, but thinking it was chicken soup, we didn’t touch it!
While traveling on the Atlantic Ocean, we heard amazing news broadcast over the intercom. World War II had begun, and the ship’s captain considered returning to Europe! However, he continued sailing toward the U.S., and we considered this another one of Hashem’s miracles. So, although the boat rocked like a cradle, we were singin’ in the rain!
Upon arrival to the U.S. we exited from the liner and marveled at the New York scenery. After remaining in New York for a brief time, we boarded a train to Clarksdale, Mississippi, to the home of my Uncle Mordechai and Aunt Pessa Lichtenstein.
My parents soon rented an apartment. Despite being in Mississippi, it was frigid that at night. My mom placed warm compresses on our feet! Nu, why complain? We survived the murderous clutches of the Fascists, so although times were tough, we were once again singin’ in the rain! One morning, the doorbell rang and a gentleman by the name of Rabbi Isaac greeted us with five large boxes. Among other things, there was a fuzzy robe for each member of the family. The robes were distributed and his gemilas chesed (act of kindness) is still remembered.
We remained in Mississippi for a brief time. Then we moved to Baltimore, where my parents rented, and eventually purchased, a row house on Fairmount Avenue. When there was a vacancy at the Bais Hamedresh Hagodol shul, my father applied and, with his beautiful tenor voice, became the cantor of the shul for many years. In addition, he was a skillful mohel, and when word got around about his proficiency, he became the preferred mohel in Baltimore.
* * *
Here are some interesting vehrter (words) related to “singin’ in the rain” as we interpret it. The authors are unknown:
- If you never stick your neck out, you’ll never get your head above the crowd.
- There is no sense in advertising your tsoress (troubles); there is no market for them.
- It is not the ship in the water but the water in the ship that sinks it.
- There is no failure except giving up.
- When you’re through changing, you’re through.
- Only one person in the world can defeat you. That is yourself.
- It is not the load that weighs us down; it’s the way we carry it.
- A mistake is evidence that someone tried to do something.
- Don’t be disturbed at being misunderstood. Be disturbed at not understanding.
- It isn’t the mountain you’re climbing that wears you out; it’s the grain of sand in your shoe.
- To accept a sin when one should protest makes one part of the sin.
- Whoever has resigned himself to fate will find that fate accepts his resignation.
- Life is like a seesaw. There are ups and there are downs. When down, push hard to get up.
* * *
So, to sum up, singing when things are going well is no big trick, but to sing when there is rain takes thought, perseverance, and above all emuna (faith).
