A Letter to Moishe'le

Dear Moishe'le,

My wound is fresh, my tears have not yet dried, and my heart is broken. But still I want to wish you a Happy Birthday.

I thought of you on your second birthday and so did thousands of other Mommies. Your Mommy was probably planning a beautiful birthday party for you in your Chabad house, singing "Happy Birthday" at your Shabbat table while you clapped in delight as all the Shabbat guests joined in, smiling and admiring your absolute cuteness. Then she and Tatti would lovingly hug you and shower you with millions of kisses and bless you in front of everyone that you should grow to be a Chassidic boy, a good Jew and a soldier in the Rebbe's army. But G‑d the Aibishter had other plans for your parents and the birthday was not a happy one. Your Upshernish, Bar Mitzvah and every birthday in between and after will be also your holy parents' yartzeit...

Moishe'le, you are the Mumbai Miracle, thanks to Sandra, and the One Above who guarded and saved you. You are here because you will be the living legacy for your parents and carry on all that they stood for. You have their power within you! Although you are way too young to understand, one day soon you will realize your parents are martyrs who literally gave their lives Al Kiddush Hashem (for the sanctification of G‑d's name). They lived in India, far from friends and Bubbies and Zeides and relatives. They sacrificed all comforts of living back home where kosher food, a top-notch Jewish education, and decent living surroundings are readily available, all to be able to bring Yiddishkeit to any person traveling or living in India.

Moishe'le, in the five years your parents lived there, do you know how many lives they've touched? So many people put on tefillin, light Shabbat candles, and keep kosher all because of your Mommy and Tatty. So many people have written stories and letters about your parents and how special and amazing they are. People around the world, even those who don't know them, love them and feel pain and at a loss of words that they are gone.

As for myself, dear Moishe'le, I have no words of comfort to express to you. I feel as if I lost a brother and sister. I feel as if you are my nephew. My children feel as if you are one of them.

Moishele, the only words of comfort that we can offer you is that wherever you go in this world, whether it is anywhere in the United States, China, Russia, Australia, Africa, Israel, Canada, or anywhere in Europe, you will always have thousands of "mommies and tatties," and thousands of "brothers and sisters," who will welcome you with open arms and loving hearts, just like your parents did for every single person.

In memory of your parents we will all fight harder and stronger in the Rebbe's army. We will do more and encourage others to do more. In the last few days thousands of people around the world said extra prayers, did an extra mitzvah, lit Shabbat candles, committed to put on tefillin, and determined to do extra acts of kindness, all in the merit of your parents. You see, your parents continue doing their holy work, even from heaven. They don't give up.

Moishe'le, when I tuck my children into bed at night, I will think of you. When I read them a story, say the bedtime Shema with them, and turn off the light, I will think of you. When I hug my youngest son Shneur Zalman who is your age, your image will also be in my mind. Your parents were a part of my family, and you will always be my family. You may have lost your biological parents, but you have over 3,500 "mommies and tatties" around the globe. We love you Moishe'le, and you will always be on our minds.

May G‑d avenge the blood of your parents and send us the Redemption immediately, so you can be reunited with your real mommy and tatty once again.

With lots of love and heartfelt emotion,
A shluchah and mother