There are times when I hear Hashem talking to me very clearly, and I have to admire his handy work. It’s been a very difficult two weeks – to say the least – while Josh has been traveling. The baby is…well, a baby…with all of the needs that entails. Sleep is a thing of the past, and a shower is a lucky reward when I’m smart enough to catch the chance. What I didn’t expect, however, while Josh was away, was the difficulties that I’d have with our two year old and our four year old. Anyway, suffice it to say that it definitely, as Hilary Clinton tells us, “takes a village” and I have an amazing village at my side.

While taking a walk this morning, and thinking about these issues, the first person that I saw was a reminder about perspective. This family lost their 15 year old son in the Mercaz HaRav terrorist attack a few years ago. Whenever I see the mom, I am overcome with sadness. Today, as she walked slowly up the street, I wondered to myself what it could possibly be like to awaken each morning with the burden that she carries – and I thanked Gd not to know. My sleeping issues certainly became trivial in that moment.

Flash forward to the afternoon. There is a new piece of park equipment at Gan Chanan and the kids are very excited about it.

While we were there this afternoon, a lovely and amazing acquaintance in the yishuv came up to wish me a Mazal Tov. While talking about the baby, I mentioned that Josh is away and that it’s been difficult, etc. She gushed with sympathy, asking me what I needed, why I hadn’t contacted her, how she could help and more. I was quickly embarrassed that I had brought up the subject at all. This is a 40 year old woman who became widowed in her early twenties with two tiny girls at home when her husband was killed in a military accident. She then battled breast cancer last year and had a double mastectomy, among other procedures. And here she was asking me how I was handling things and what I needed? Again…a bit of perspective from Hashem.

And, of course, as I watched the dozens of kids clamoring on the new, absolutely fantastic, piece of park equipment, I couldn’t help but reflect on Chanan’s entirely too short life. My children were jumping and playing and yelling on the equipment that Chanan would not get to enjoy…and that his parents had brought to the yishuv in his memory so that so many others would.

I get it Hashem.

Another sleepless night?

Perhaps.

More insanity from my two year old?

Undoubtedly.

But things will go on; I will get through these tiny stumbling blocks, and I will kiss my children goodnight tonight with a bit of extra patience and tenderness thanks to the signs I’ve been given today.

Thanks, Hashem. I certainly needed that reminder today.