Text message from: Talia
Received on: 31.5.05
Time: 10:32
To the whole world, you are just somebody
To just one somebody, you are the whole world.
The truth is that our friend Talia, of blessed memory, a member of our ninth-year group, was one of those people who, in certain situations, when things were not working out or when one’s spirits were simply not at their highest, could within a few minutes, with a few glances and one broad smile, shine the vitality within her directly into the heart.
Perhaps that is why I refuse to part with the mobile telephone I had at that time. It may not have a camera, and one cannot watch the latest series of Eretz Nehederet on it — including the excellent imitation of Guy Zohar — but it contains one text message that, for me, expresses an entire life.
When the editorial team of the Maayan Novea bulletin telephoned me and asked me to write on the subject of joy, I hesitated and wrestled with the question of what joy actually is and what joy is for me. I thought of grand ideas, of lessons with many stages that express what joy is... but somehow, that was not it.
Then suddenly, Talia’s simple smile sprang into my memory. A smile that reminded me of her laughter, her embrace, the sparkle in her eyes and all the other things that words are too small to describe.
And I thought that, for me, this is my joy.
My brief-yet-long acquaintance with Talia left behind many thoughts, memories and questions. In the context of the month of Adar, which is also the month in which Talia was killed, I shall choose to focus upon one thing that may serve as a point of light for all of us, in the spirit of the light of Adar. If only we succeed in making it shine throughout the year.
Talia was the first person I met when I arrived to study at the Midrasha. We were both the first to arrive, before everyone else, and we had no idea where we were going. So within a few minutes we found ourselves heading towards the food store at Nov, where we bought all sorts of things that did not fall into the “diet” category. It seemed the most natural thing in the world, as though we had already known each other for years. Looking back, I understand that the whole situation was possible because Talia gave me the opportunity to feel that I was her best friend — me, and every person she met along the way. And I think about how every one of us is on a journey, and all of us meet many people each day, each week and at every stage; and how every one of the people we meet has something to give us, if only we allow them to give it to us. Talia taught me to give the people around me, even if I have known them only briefly, the opportunity to receive from them.
The understanding that nothing is accidental, that everything is part of the path and not merely “along the way”, is an immense point of light for me. There is no substitute for the feeling that, for just one somebody, I am the whole world — in the least clichéd sense possible.
If only we may merit to live, and to bring life to, every moment and every hour in our private and collective lives; to illuminate the routine through the small things and the great people.
A happy Purim to everyone, good news and abundant happiness to every one of you, whoever you may be,
and with longing...
Oriya Matalon (Eliav, for anyone who momentarily forgot...)
It seems that only a moment ago we folded the sukkah away into some corner of the storeroom, and suddenly it turns out that Purim is already just around the corner. So perhaps it is a sign to awaken towards something particular, to renew what we have already learnt and known, and to live this time.
And I think about what I seek to bring to life within myself at this time, and in general... The truth is that many grand ideas come to mind: to rejoice in everything that happens, to see what is hidden within what is revealed, to remove masks of one kind or another, and more. Sometimes, in my mind, I even picture the month of Adar at the Midrasha: the lessons that entered the heart immediately, the atmosphere and, above all, the vitality that could be felt with such powerful intensity.
And yet, as I think about it at this very moment, I reach the conclusion that these powerful intensities are around us at every moment, in every place and at every hour — and what I mean is: within every person.
Talia, of blessed memory, our friend from the year group, who was killed approximately three years ago in a fatal road accident, taught me this lesson personally and well.