I would be remiss to not start today’s column without taking time to reflect on the ice-pocalypse we survived last week. Northern Michigan saw a storm unlike any seen in past decades, which has resulted in many still (12 days later) living without power. As the calendar announced the arrival of spring, Mother Nature reminded us of her sheer power and lack of adherence to any man-made deadline. Snow and ice covered power lines and roads, making travel hazardous, as did the eerie sights and sounds of trees literally breaking apart. What did not fall apart was the community.

Community is indescribably key to Judaism. One popularly practiced precept is to do a “mitzvah” a day. Mitzvah literally translated from the Hebrew means “commandment” from God to be performed. I was brought up with the tradition to perform a “mitzvah” a day, or more specifically, to do a good deed a day for a stranger. The last part, that the deed must be preformed for a stranger, holds special significance to which I will later return.

Community is even commanded when meeting for public worship. In Judaism, a minyan is the quorum of 10 Jewish adults (13 and over) required for traditional public worship. The minyan symbolizes the presence of a community and its necessity to our lives. This past Saturday, for the first time in almost a full year, Temple Beth-El did have a minyan; some who came from over an hour away and/or still without power. The need for community was palatable and comforting.

This past week, Alpena and surrounding areas were true embodiments of what one hopes for when picturing a loving community. At one point (and for many days) almost EVERYONE and every service was out of power. And it was cold. And there were no estimations regarding a restoration of power. And a state of emergency was declared by the state of Michigan. Heart-warmingly inspiring, when I, somewhat reluctantly, used the few minutes of battery on my phone to check local Facebook pages, what I did NOT find was anger, outrage, indignation…not even frustration. Fear? Yes. Anxiety? For sure. However, the overwhelming statements were ones reaching out to help, to reassure, to feed, to heat unknown neighbors…strangers. Doors were simply opened for lodging and comfort, and it seems all who were able came out to offer help; whether it was helping supply meals or donating generators to those urgently in need, or simply taking time to smile at a warming station, the community did everything possible to make its residents feel less isolated and alone.

As we enter another holiday season, Passover (Pesach, meaning “Passed Over”) in Judaism and Easter in Christianity, the focus is again on family and groups coming together to celebrate tradition. Traditions are, in and of themselves, reminders that no one is truly alone, as these acts of coming together have passed down as proof that we are part of something greater than ourselves. The final night of Passover is celebrated with a 12 round / ritual meal (that includes four glasses of wine) called a “Seder” (which means order) that retells the journey of Jews from slavery to freedom as found in Exodus. Some would argue that Passover (the first Pesach) was the birth of what it means to be Jewish today.

Pesach is also a holiday of spring; of renewal. A time to grow again. A reminder that freedom must be collective or it is not freedom at all. The necessity to be just and kind and to love the stranger. The command to be open to the stranger occurs 36 times in the Torah as emphasis of its importance. Therefore, it is not surprising that non-Jews are always invited and openly embraced at Seders to come and share our traditions as, ultimately, we are all “mishpocha” (family).

The end of the Seder includes my favorite tradition (and not ONLY because it signals the end is near…Seders go on and on and on…), the end is marked by the opening of the door to the home with the hope that Elijah will announce that the Messiah has appeared. Alas, to open a door to a stranger, as a reminder that we know uncomfortably well what it feels to be the stranger. When I was young, it was my favorite time because it was so filled with positive energy, I found myself imbued with hope. As I’ve grown older, it has gotten harder to believe, even for just a minute, in hope…This year it will not be difficult at all. The kindness of strangers has, indeed, sparked hope in this somewhat cynical heart.

Happy holidays to all.

Monika Ehrlich is a new resident to Alpena, but with extensive family ties to the area. She is currently working for Alpena Community College and is an avid reader, writer and photographer.