My Shabbos Trio
Photos/Jill Flanzraich.
By Jill Flanzraich
The sundown of Friday, March 12, 2021, welcomed the 52nd Shabbat since my COVID-19 pandemic lockdown began on March 9, 2020.
52 meals, 52 “kiddushim” (blessings), 52 candle lightings, 52 virtual services.
Initially, from the confines of my downtown Reno apartment, I thought it unfamiliar and sad to be joining Sabbath prayers virtually. Nine months earlier I had returned from a trip to Poland with my daughter. Now I found myself equating my solitary praying to what it might have felt like to “daven” (pray) during the horrors preceding and during World War II. With time I’ve come to realize that was erroneous for although I prayed alone, I did pray with community, my synagogue community, albeit through a monitor.
As the days of pandemic social distancing mounted, the line between weeks started to blur. But then would come the Sabbath. Fridays became my demarcation. “Good Shabbos,”* I’d think to myself, just as my mother and grandmother would say in Yiddish. Each Friday I cleaned my apartment, prepared a meal for myself, and set out my Shabbos trio. If I lost track of the dates, when I awoke the next day my trio, still present on my dining table, reminded me it was Saturday, Shabbos morning.
My Shabbos trio is not a trio of audible musicians. Mine is a trio that silently, but loudly brightens the Sabbath.
Jill, her grandmother, Annie (an emigrant from Russia) and her mother, Florence, in 1978.
The tallest candlestick came to Reno from New York City. It was part of the pair my mom and dad received as a wedding gift in 1948 from my father Bernie’s parents. The bases of the silver holders were engraved with a script “G” to denote the couple’s last name, Gerber. When my mother, Florence, passed in 2001, my sister and I each kept one.
The pair of shorter silver candlesticks travelled almost 6,000 miles to Reno. I purchased them while visiting a Krakow market in Poland in 2019. I don’t definitively know their history, but I’d like to think they lived in a Jewish home. I decided they needed to be lit again so I packed them in my suitcase, and my single candlestick joined them to make my Shabbos trio.
Each Shabbos my trio, with silent resonance, joins me in song to welcome the Shabbat bride, to mark my week, and to usher in a time for personal reflection. Together we sing.“Good Shabbos.”
Lighting the Shabbos candles is a weekly ritual that has been part of my family tradition for generations. The Hebrew phrase, “L’dor v’dor” means “from generation to generation.” As illustrated in my photos, the observance of lighting the Shabbos candles has passed through centuries in my family.
My daughter's 1st Shabbat, me, and my mom in 1985. Photos/Jill Flanzraich.
As a child my mom would oftentimes give me the honor of setting the Shabbos dinner table along with the candlesticks and candles. They were always handled with great respect. As I got older, I was asked to polish them. I recall the cool sensation of the silver polish cream as it touched my hands through the polishing cloth. When applied, the cream was a grayish-white. As the tarnish rubbed off it became increasingly dark, as did my hands. Then I’d rinse the candlesticks and my hands, dry them, and place them on the special tray. Lying adjacent to the tray would be 6” white candles, matches, and our head covers, made of lace by my mom, an expert seamstress. I took the greatest of care in handling all of the components of the sacred ritual.
To this day the initial smell of the melting wax takes me back in time. Even now I close my eyes and am in my family’s dining room. I can smell the kitchen aromas from the chicken soup and dumplings (matzo balls), the fresh twisted bread (challah), and the scent of the candles’ burning wax.
Me (blue head cover), my daughter, and my sister in 2013.
When the Sabbath approached, my parents would call everyone into the dining room. The males (regardless of age) would sit in silence as any females (of all ages) were invited to stand together, wear a head cover, cover their eyes**, and recite the prayer (or just listen) as my mother would take the matches and kindle the flames. These days in many Jewish homes, all are welcome to participate in the ritual . . . both men and women, boys and girls. Sometimes a male will lead the recitation and light the candles.
During COVID-19 I found great solace in this weekly ritual. Being wrapped in tradition felt like a comforting hug, one which might have been accompanied by my parents saying in Yiddish, “It will ‘aus pressen’” (which literally means “it will iron out”). I’m glad they never saw me lighting candles in isolation as a result of a worldwide pandemic. But I am also glad that my memories with them brought me comfort during that inconceivable time.
For 52 Fridays I followed the Shabbos candle lighting tradition, ate a freshly cooked meal, and then went online to join the Sabbath service with my synagogue community of Temple Sinai Reno. My family memories joined me with the online service, complete with familiar songs and prayers. In our virtual community we ended our week, anticipated a day of rest, and hoped for a better upcoming week. Somehow, together, we would support each other through the darkest days of the pandemic knowing we’d come out the other side.
As I write this in June of 2021 we have started to see that other side. During the 52 weeks of my pandemic lockdown for some days, for some hours, and even for some minutes, it was very difficult to imagine an ending. But holding hands together, either through a monitor or through a memory, we have started to see our way through.
My mother and father in 1998,
*“Good Shabbos”(Yiddish) or “Good Sabbath.” The Sabbath begins weekly at sunset on Friday thru sunset on Saturday and the greeting is offered anytime within the 24 hours.
**One covers their eyes so as not to enjoy the candle light until after the blessing is recited, “Blessed are You, Lord, our God, Ruler of the Universe, who sanctifies us with his commandments, and commands us to light the candles of Shabbat.” There is a pause and with covered eyes some may pray for their heart's desires. Others may focus on happy or joyous thoughts. Some think about what they want to leave behind from the past week. Then the eyes are uncovered, and hugs are exchanged as everyone says “Good Shabbos” or “Shabbat Shalom” to each other. (Edited from of www.hazon.org)
Jill Flanzraich is a member of Temple Sinai Reno since 2015 where she has served on the synagogue’s Social Action and Library Committees. A native New Yorker, in 1994 she moved from Long Island, New York to Las Vegas and then relocated to Reno in 2012. Her candlesticks always accompanied her journeys.
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