Avinu Malkeinu, I am sad You had to withdraw Your invitation
to visit Your Palace this year. Believe me,
I understand how difficult it is to clean up
after a plague has torn through your house.
Our Mothers spent many years on their knees scrubbing
demons from the corners of the room,
boiling blankets and sheets, whispering
prayers for healing as they toiled to prevent
Loss of another child.
Avinu Malkeinu, I appreciate Your offer to come to my home instead.
Only a King like You would be willing to
temper majesty and visit a humble woman
in her tent. That is why I Love You.
Other kings would command a journey to their palace, even when
Plague is raging, would not concern themselves with risk
to their loyal subjects. Only You are
compassionate enough to travel here and mask
Your Face to shelter me from harm.
Avinu Malkeinu, I would love to welcome You into my tent, but I
do not feel it is worthy of Your Presence. I, too,
have spent years scrubbing away demons, but only a blind man
would call it a palace. I am wondering, please, do not consider this
disrespectful, but would it be possible for
Shekhinah to visit instead?
Shekhinah, our Mother, would understand, even though
I would still be embarrassed. The dust I missed, still
lingering in the corners, the dirt my beloved child
just tracked into the house.
She would understand the stain of food and other things
I don’t want to mention on the
White Clothes I was planning to wear when I visited You.
Shekhinah can travel without attendant angels and
other officials necessary for a King to venture forth from the Palace.
I could welcome Her to my small, humble garden. We could
sit among flowers, breathe in sweet air,
Share things most important to mothers and daughters.
I promise this year, to put away the new, White Garments,
Carefully cleaned and pressed with devotion.
Next year, Please God, I will wrap myself in them,
travel to Your Palace. Enter
with Unbridled Joy
Your Holy Sanctuary.