The poem, Do Not Stand on My Grave and Weep, was written in 1932 by Mary Elizabeth Frye to console a young Jewish houseguest who had fled Germany and was lamenting the recent passing of her mother there. And I’d never heard a poem read at an Orthodox Yizkor service. I’d never been to the exhaustively named Moses Montefiore Anshe Emunah/Greengate Jewish Center in the Pikesville section of Baltimore. I never imagined being pulled back to the sanctuary like a weary traveler returning home from a long journey. Who needed a synagogue? When I decided to try a new (to me) shul last spring for Yizkor, it was driven more by obligation than enthusiasm. A solitary walk on a serene, lakeside path fed my soul and brought me close to God. I found the “stuff” associated with it–politics, egos, et al–to be a turn-off. For years I looked everywhere but synagogue for spiritual fulfillment.
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