I hear the baby crying, and I quickly walk over to her. She’s rolled over, and bicycles her feet and arms in frustration. She’s stuck. I pick her up and plant a big kiss on those delicious pudgy cheeks. She’s no longer stuck and smiles back at me.

It brings back memories of my olderThe call continues to come, doesn’t it? children. I remember when one would pull herself up and standing, would cry out in frustration as she didn’t know how to get back down. One turned on faucets and didn’t know how to close them as water gushed out. I would hear that word, “Mommmmmy!” Yes, mommy. “Mommy, come quick! I’m stuck. Mommy, I need you. Mommy.

Yes, the magic of Mommy.

The call comes from a baby. The call comes from a small child. The call continues to come, doesn’t it? Even into adulthood and beyond. We find ourselves in a difficult situation and so naturally we want to cry, “Mommy [or Daddy]!” It’s the cry of, “Help me. I’m stuck.”



One child asks me, “Mommy where are my shoes?” One asks me, “Mommy, where’s my book?” All day long, the questions, and they are directed to me. I throw my hands up in frustration. “How do I know where you put them?” But the truth is, that I usually do.

I think about my day. How much my children call upon me, and I can honestly share with you that at times I do feel frustrated, and yes, tired. I hear the call, “Mommmmmy” and I want to cry, “Now what?” In those moments, I take a step back and tell myself to look at the big picture. Which is how beautiful it is to be “Mommy”—to be needed and wanted and sought after.

Yes, there is something magical about Mommy. Something special about Mommy. I’m not just talking about a biological mother, but the role of Mommy. The presence of Mommy, which is a presence of, “I’m here when you need me.” It’s the presence of, “You can always count on me.”



We have four matriarchs, Sarah, Rivkah, Rachel and Leah. All four women infused us, their descendants, with the power of prayer, modesty, wisdom and faith. There is one who stands out, in whose merit we call out in times of need to pray on our behalf. Who?

It’s Rachel, lovingly referred to as Mama Rochel.

The Torah tells us (Genesis 35:16-20) how Rachel died “on the way” to Efrat and was buried in Bethlehem. Why didn’tWhy did he leave her alone in Bethlehem? Jacob bury his beloved wife with all the other patriarchs and matriarchs in Hebron? Why did he leave her alone in Bethlehem? The sages explain that Jacob foresaw that in the future, Israel would be exiled from their land. As they were driven from their homes following the destruction of the First Temple, they passed by the very road where Rachel was buried and cried out to her. “Mammaleh, help! Mammaleh, pray for us!”

They took comfort knowing that she would beseech G‑d on their behalf as the prophet Jeremiah (Jeremiah 31:14) tells us: A voice is heard on high, Wailing, bitterly crying. Rachel weeps for her children. She refuses to be consoled. For they are gone.

He continues with G‑d’s response. “Restrain your voice from weeping,“Hold back your eyes from their tears. “For your work has its reward and your children shall return to their border.”

That’s right. It’s “Mommy” that we turn to in time in need. Mommy who helps us when we are stuck or in times of sorrow and need. Mama Rochel is the symbol of “Mother.” The symbol of this form of motherly love. The love that the Divine Presence has for us, her children.

What a merit it is to fulfill the role of Mommy. To emulate this attribute of, “I’m here for you. Call out to me.”