I came to appreciate Amoun Sleem’s wisdom as we worked together for over a year on her autobiography told in A Gypsy Dreaming in Jerusalem. She gave me credit as the “wordsmith who helped me put my narrative in order” in her acknowledgements. We formed a strong friendship as she sent me parts of her story when she squeezed time from her busy activities leading the work of the Domari Center in Jerusalem and even made a short trip to Mississippi. On the side, we became Facebook friends, and I looked forward to snippets of wisdom that she posted there, either from her traditions or created from her heart. I began to collect these, and we used them in a section of back matter in the book. She continued to post her words of wisdom even after the book was finished. I ran across one of those “extras” this week that seems particularly applicable in these times.
Amoun said, “Don’t sell the sun to buy a candle.” It seems to me that we are tempted in these times to do just that. Four months into a pandemic and some of those candles are looking pretty bright. Don’t we want to celebrate that significant birthday with a family reunion? Don’t we want to be counting the weeks until college football starts again? Don’t we want to meander through the library, perusing the stacks to find a really good book? Don’t we want to see the yellow buses and hear the children calling out to each other as they pass? Don’t we want to mourn together when that beloved friend or family member has died? Don’t we want to go out to lunch or dinner with friends and linger over good conversation? Don’t we want to hop in the car to run pick up that item missing from our grocery bag? Don’t we want to be in choir practice for Sunday worship?
Some decisions remain hard. Looking at going-back-to-school, DIL Kelly wisely said, “There are no good solutions.” I am glad not to be making those because I come down on both sides for the good of the children. I can only pray that those who do will have wisdom, caring most of all for the children and the school personnel. Essential personnel risking their lives as they carry on, in health care or the tasks more taken for granted like postal and sanitation workers, should be lauded. But we need to be careful before naming an activity “essential” that is really a candle substitute for the sun.
At the moment, the sun we seek to replace by an attractive candle seems to be gone as if there were a long string of rainy days. No end is in sight, but we know the most beautiful candles burn brightly but a short time. The sun, hidden through many cloudy days, will eventually come out again – often seeming brighter than ever before. In the meantime, we follow safety guidelines to be sure we remain alive to see it.