I have always loved stained glass windows.
They fascinate me,
whispering stories through their mosaic webbing.
At different times of
day, the quality of light coming in through the glass saturates the room
with magnificent hews, and at other times,
more subdued tones.
From there, we had some eleven hours on the road to Pittsburgh, which were shared between our boys with potty breaks about every seventy miles. This made for a pretty tiring trip for us. We hoped that the way home would go more smoothly and prayed for fewer breaks (and smoothly it did luckily go).
In Pittsburgh, we stayed in the hotel which hosted the wedding. This was the oldest hotel in town, and was in a great downtown location. We spent one morning at the children's museum, which was the best one that we've been to so far, and we highly recommend.
This trip was very special for us, not only because of the wedding, but because much of the extended family there had not met our kids yet. We all enjoyed the reunion and watching the kids interact with everyone. Other than a single baby, they were the only kids at the wedding and were a big hit.
We took a drive to Squirrel Hill, one of the Jewish enclaves in Pittsburgh, where Alex's grandmother lived growing up. It struck me that Pittsburgh is one of the older cities that I have visited. I had always been drawn to old buildings, and would rather embrace history, than see newer architecture on any given day. I found myself snapping away photos as our car drove through brick roads, snowy streets and old houses. I later had to go back and delete way too many photos. I found the city to be culturally inviting, and I was only too happy to drive by several synagogues and Jewish establishments on these old city streets.
The wedding ceremony followed a Jewish Orthodox tradition, and a lively Klezmer band (Jewish East European music) delighted guests in the reception. I vividly remember in the reception that I felt very fortunate to be visiting a city that had a thriving Jewish community and culture. I was so happy to listen to the band, dance with my husband and children, and celebrate with everyone at the simchah (Yiddish, meaning a happy occasion).
A cozy brunch for family took place the morning after the wedding at temple Rodef Shalom,
(translated from Hebrew - one chasing peace). This synagogue is over a
hundred years old, and is a nationally recognized historic landmark. As
we walked up the stairs to get to our destination, we passed by
window displays of Judaica, that I knew I'd be coming back to visit more
closely,
shortly after the brunch. We sat in a lovely sunny room that used to be a
little courtyard, but now was covered. What was meaningful about this
synagogue to us, was that several of Alex's cousins had also gotten
married there, as well as his grandmother, many years ago.
After brunch, we returned to the window displays of Judaica. One
display spoke to me in a most haunting way. There were two displays of
linked arm bands that Jews were made to wear during the holocaust, with
the yellow star labeled "Jude" and other concentration camp arm
bands. I had never seen this type of display outside of a museum. It
moved me to the core to find something so precious being preserved and
valued at this beautiful old synagogue.
We
ended the morning strolling through the sanctuary with some cousins.
The ornate space had colorful stained glass windows on the walls and
ceiling, menora chandeliers and a grand pipe organ on the bima
(stage). Our kids gravitated towards the grand piano and had fun
exploring the acoustics of this high ceiling space. The place resonated
to me of its history and traditions. I was taking it all in, marveling
at all of the details of its decor and presence. The mosaic webbing of
it's stained glass windows spoke to me of our connectedness to family
and our past. While coming here for a family event, I had also found
yet again, a renewed connection to my heritage and culture in an
unexpected way. These are all connective elements in my life.
I have always loved stained glass windows.
They are usually placed in hard to reach places,
reflecting our personal struggle to climb up to the light.
They are therefore hard for us to truly see through,
but we can only see the light that enters down through them.
The light coming into its encapsulating space shifts mysteriously,
not giving away its past secrets to us all at once.
One has to be there at just the right moment,
not to miss that certain hew that may never
pass through that space twice in quite the same way.
Stain painted images on glass crave light to breath life into their mystical presence,
as do individual moments in our lives seek shade to be stored into our memories.
Let our new year be filled with a mosaic of splendid colorful light,
gracing us with its blessing of peace, and shading us from harm's way,
placing us in the moment,
placing us in the moment,
to appreciate the very few things that truly matter,
never to pass that time twice in quite the same way.
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