Every Child Has His Own Song

I should be asleep right now. Everyone else is, but I can’t fall asleep. I’m worried I’ll miss a precious moment if I close my eyes. It feels like a dream. I stroke his head. I smell his sweet scent. I’m intoxicated as I stare in wonderment at the baby beside me.

I can’t believe I was so worried. I didn’t count the days left of my pregnancy, or think about how many more weeks I had to go. Instead I counted how many weeks, and then how many months, had passed since I conceived. I told myself, “Thank G‑d, you made it through the first trimester.” Then came the second, and at last, the third. The baby stayed it, he kept growing, and he kept moving. These were everyday miracles.

How can this baby ever compare? There was so much going on during this pregnancy. I worked and had two other children to take care of. We had to move, packing and unpacking. There was no time to sit and sing to this baby like there had been with my previous two pregnancies. There was no time to stand in front of the mirror and marvel at my changing body, at the bulging belly. There was no time for anything, except maybe to worry!

I called a mentor of mine in panic one day. “What am I going to do? I feel so bad for this baby. I have a boy. I have a girl. My boy is the oldest. He’s amazing, the best in every way. My girl is our princess; she’s amazing, the best in every way. He’s our son, she’s our daughter. How can this baby ever compare? What will its role be? And will my kids be terribly jealous?”

She calmed me down. “Elana, every child has their place. This baby will too. Stop worrying. Your kids will be fine. This isn’t going to be just your baby. They’re older; give them responsibilities—this will be their baby too. I’m telling you, the baby will carve out its own path and have its own special role in the world, and of course, in your family.”

Her words comforted me, but I still found myself worrying. My husband and I could not agree on any name. How could we come up with something so perfect as we had for our son, Avraham Nissim, and our daughter, Frida Tamar?

As the due date came closer, I prayed and I prayed. Purim came and went, and Passover neared. I cleaned and shopped. I kept telling the baby, “Please, just stay in until everything is ready.” The first day of the month of Nissan (the month in which Passover occurs) came, and with it the first of my contractions. Every day I felt the contractions come. I prepared my bag to take to the hospital. I told the baby, “I’m not ready. Stay in!” I kept cleaning.

Then the contractions came, and they wouldn’t stop, and so I knew that I had no other choice. I submitted to them. This was the day. Whether I am ready or not, I told myself, I have to accept and be ready. I did the last of my food shopping. I started to cook for Passover, giving my husband instructions on what to freeze and what to put in the refrigerator. I breathed, I swayed and I sang.

Of course nothing happened according to plan. No one answered their phones; we couldn’t find any babysitters. The traffic was horrific, and there we were in the car, me, my husband and my children. “Stay in, baby. Please, let me make it to the hospital.” For nine months I had no time to sing or enjoy. Now was the time. I sang and I sang. Nothing was going according to plan, but I wouldn’t let that stop me from singing and from remembering that in the end, G‑d willing, I would have my baby.

We arrived at the hospital, and two hours later, with my children in the waiting room, I gave birth to our son. I sang until almost the end, and then, exhausted and breathless, I couldn’t sing anymore. But I didn’t have to; the first cry of the baby as he emerged into the world was a beautiful song in itself.

After the baby was born I asked my husband, “What is today? Who brought the offerings for the Tabernacle today?” (For the first twelve days of the month of Nissan, a prince from each of the twelve tribes brought offerings and gifts for the Tabernacle in the desert.)

“It is the eleventh day of Nissan. The prince of the tribe of Asher brought them today.”

Nothing was going according to plan, but I wouldn’t let that stop me from singing My two days in the hospital, I kept kissing him and gazing at him. What would be his name? I remembered my singing. I remembered the prince of the tribe of Asher.

When the nation of Israel left Egypt, the commentators explain, when they walked through the split Red Sea, they walked in twelve rows. Each tribe had his own pathway. In the desert, each tribe had its own flag, and while they all traveled together as one nation, the people of each tribe stayed within their own tribal section. They were separate and yet united.

We know that when the time came to receive the Torah, the nation of Israel was like “one man with one heart.” It was the only way we could receive the Torah: through unity. Everyone heard the same commandments and everyone received the Torah with the same will and desire, but what amazes me is that there was unity despite the differences. The majority of Israel had to stand behind a barrier. They were prohibited from coming too close to Mount Sinai. Aaron was closer. Joshua, Moses’ student, was even closer, and Moses was permitted to actually go to the top of Mount Sinai to receive the Torah and the two tablets with the Ten Commandments. They were standing at different places, and each had a different role. Some were followers, some were leaders.

I thought about this as everyone asked me, “Who does the baby look like?”

“He looks like Avraham Nissim. He looks like Frida Tamar. I actually think he looks like himself . . .”

All of a sudden the name fell into place, and my husband and I agreed on the perfect name for this perfect baby: Asher Yisrael (Israel). Not only did we choose Asher because it corresponded to his birthday, but Asher comes from the Hebrew word “to praise.” My husband and I picked this name with the hope that this child will fulfill his special mission in life and bring praise to his Creator, to his parents, and to the entire nation of Israel. We also couldn’t stop praising G‑d for giving us this most precious gift. His first name represents his individual role, and his second name symbolizes how each and every individual is necessary for the whole.

The blessing that Moses gave the tribe of Asher before dying was, “Blessed with sons is Asher; he shall be pleasing to his brothers, and dip his foot in oil.” My children are in awe of their baby brother. While his presence does invoke your normal amount of jealousy, they are crazy about him and love him. “Oh Asher Yisrael,” I whisper into his tiny ears, “may you grow to be a great man amongst your people, and may your siblings always watch over you and adore you.”

Lastly, his name is similar to the word ashir, “I will sing.” We worry so much about everything, but if we can maintain our faith and trust in G‑d, if we can just stay focused on the future goal, then we will truly be able to sing in the future. Those who sing praise now will merit to sing praise in the future.