Ourstories
- Leann Shamash
- Jul 29
- 5 min read
#parshatdevarim #words #devarim #mosesspeaks #mishnehtorah #orallaw #ourstories #herstory #hisstory #storytelling #thepowerofstorytelling
On these very hot summer days we begin the book of Devarim, or words and once again we have reached an unexpected shift in the direction of the text. The Book of Devarim is known as Mishneh Torah, a second look. It is suggested that perhaps this book is the beginning of biblical interpretation. Whereas the other books of the Torah are in the third person, this book is in Moshe's voice. In Sefer Devarim selected stories are repeated , but they are described slightly differently. Here we hear Moshe's voice. While reading the text we may ask ourselves why Moshe choose to highlight certain stories and laws and not others? What were the laws and stories that he chose to re-tell? Re-frame?
In Parshat Devarim Moshe becomes the storyteller and begins his rendition of events of the Hebrews time in the desert. Like Moshe our teacher, each of us, young and old, are also story tellers and teachers through our narratives. No matter what our circumstances, we each have a story to tell, a tale to share. We share our collective stories on Passover, on Chanukah, Purim and other times during the year as remembering is an important value for us, as shown again and again.
Stories are welcome tools available to each of us. The elderly share their stories to knit one generation to the next. The young share their stories so that they can grow and flourish. A friend becomes closer when we entrust them with our stories. Even listening to the stories of those with whom we have nothing in common can help us understand what drives them.
We are now in an age where stories are often shared via podcasts, Youtube videos and TicTock, but there is a quality to being in the room with the story teller that enhances the story. Over the years I have had the opportunity to go to The Moth, where ordinary people share their ordinary stories which become extraordinary when being witnessed by others.
It's never too late to tell a story and to witness the story of others.
As we get closer to the ninth of Av, and we share stories of the destruction of Jerusalem, I wish you an easy fast and the hope of comfort in the weeks to come.
Shabbat Shalom,
Leann
Stories percolate like strong coffee.
age like wine,
ready to be set free.
Here they are....an assortment of people's stories who reflect where we have come from.
Ourstories
Her story is when she forgot her lines in her sixth grade play.
His story is of being a recovering alcoholic.
In her story she tries to break the glass ceiling.
Her mother fled Cambodia.
A generation later she holds her mother’s memories of rice fields as part of her story.
In his story he is the immigrant who made it here safely.
In her story she is the immigrant who was stopped at the border.
In his story he climbed each of the presidential peaks.
In her story she shares memories of being a marathoner.
He was born in Isfahan but fled to Israel after the revolution. He never quite left Iran behind and his story blends memories of the sweet fruit of Iran with the hot desert sun of the Negev.
.
His story is of losing his son in the war.
Her story is of cleaning up New York City after Twin Towers fell.
His story is shown through the images made through the lens of a camera.
Her story is one of infertility.
She is the daughter of a Holocaust survivor. Although the story was not her own, she carries it in her actions; always saving things, should she ever need them if she needed to flee.
His story is of camping with his family when he was a child.
Her story is of searching for food and shelter.
His story is years of reading novels.
Their stories became his.
Her story is overcoming a stutter.
His story is of the bravery of overcoming illness.
Her story is one of caring for elderly parents.
Their story is one of overcoming homelessness.
His parents immigrated to this country twenty years ago. His story is the sweet story of
being the first in his family to graduate from college.
*
Is anyone listening?
Here we sit in one room
We are each story tellers.
Lift up your head from your phones
in this coffee shop.
In this Zoom Room.
Listen to a story
of that person sitting next to you.
What do you know of them?
What do they know of you?
There is no time like now.
Our stories live inside of us,
Percolating.
A story's life is not complete until it is heard by others.
Begin the telling.
We are listening.
בְּעֵ֥בֶר הַיַּרְדֵּ֖ן בְּאֶ֣רֶץ מוֹאָ֑ב הוֹאִ֣יל מֹשֶׁ֔ה בֵּאֵ֛ר
אֶת־הַתּוֹרָ֥ה הַזֹּ֖את לֵאמֹֽר׃
On the other side of the Jordan, in the land of Moab, Moses undertook to expound this Teaching. He said.....
Devarim 1:5
A P.S. on this post of story telling.
How Words Have Wings began.
My mother had just passed away in January, 2020. I began to say the kaddish for her at local synagogues, but after saying kaddish for my dad and not writing about it, I wanted to write a blog of what it was like to say kaddish for the year of mourning. If you look at my first post, located at the very end of this blog (it seems to flow backwards!) you will see my brother and I on the mourner's bench.
Soon after I began to write the blog COVID began and the shutdown commenced. I looked for an online minyan to continue to say the kaddish and ended up at Congregation Kehillath Israel in Brookline's Zoom minyan where a group of us said the kaddish together online. Back in those days we could actually see each other's faces on Zoom and when it came time to say Kaddish we often shared stories of those we were remembering. If you look back to the beginning of the blog, you will find The Memory Room post where I detail this powerful experience.
At a certain point during that summer of 2020, (actually about 2 weeks from now!) the Rabbi had to leave for a week or so and he asked if anyone would like to prepare a d'var torah. I thought it might be a good thing for me to think about the parsha, so I said that I would do it. I quickly wrote one d'var torah and then another and then a poem that served as a d'var torah. I recited the poetry to my companions in the Zoom Room and what had been a blog reflecting on saying the kaddish became a vehicle for the poems that were written for my Wednesday morning recitations, along with various other projects that I have tried over the years. (photography, Eight Women)
I am still reading at the Kehillath Israel minyan every Wednesday morning. Rabbi Hamilton and the minyan have been incredibly gracious to allow my voice to be heard each week.
Each week I have the opportunity to study to get ready for these blog posts and to read to the small groups who gather to remember their family members. The modest results of my own studies are what you see here each week. I am most grateful for the array of podcasts I listen to, the website Sefaria, my Torah Doodlers who inspire me each week and the wise teachers from generation to generation who continue, like Moshe Rabeinu, to make sense of this inspired book, Torah. There is so much to learn.
“Stories are memory aids, instruction manuals and moral compasses.” – Aleks Krotoski
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