Today the World is Born…And Ducks and Cows

As Rosh Hashanah approaches, I prepare to brush off my suit jacket and see if I still remember how to tie a necktie — it’s been a lunar year since I’ve done so.

Among the highlights of the Rosh Hashanah service is the shofar blowing. Afterwards, we chant “Hayom Harat Olam” – traditionally translated as “today is the birthday of the world”. I am imagining a birthday cake with 5787 candles. – well 5788, one for good luck. Rationally speaking, it is hard to believe that the world is only 5,787 years old. I have socks that old.

I like the translation “today the world is born”, the deeper meaning being that on this day the world is renewed. The urgency of the shofar blast tells us that earth is being reborn and that each of us has a role in this renewal. If we could put words to the shofar blast, it might say “the day is short, and the work is plentiful” and “It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you at liberty to neglect it.”  (Ethics of our Ancestors, 2:15-16.) One does not need to read the newspaper each day to know that there is much work to be done. The shofar is our moral alarm clock.

Past New Year missives I have written leaned towards lightheartedness—but it just seems harder these days. It is difficult not to feel that the world in which we live is out of control. I’d like to believe that the arc of the moral universe bends towards justice but, lately, it seems like a heavy lift.

Given the challenges that confront us and the gravity of the moment, and my proclivity towards deep thinking, I’d like to talk about ducks and cows.

Last winter break the members of our family gathered at our home. It was a joyful time together with our two grandchildren, Bina and Hallel maintaining the focus of our attention and our delight. After an exhausting, but fun-filled week, the kids and grandkids headed back to their homes in San Francisco and Baltimore. And, not unlike the days after a tornado or a hurricane, the clean-up began.

During the clean-up, small duck figurines began to emerge in the most unexpected locations; the kitchen pantry, wedged between the Cheerios and granola, the den cabinet, nestled among the bottles of Bourbon. Each day brought a new find, and by the end of the month, fourteen miniature yellow ducks were lined up on the windowsill above the kitchen sink.

Weeks after the gathering, the sisters’ delightfully sinister plot was revealed. In the days before the visit, they had each purchased bags of miniature ducks and hid them in their suitcases. Over the course of our time together, they surreptitiously placed them among the nooks and crannies of our home.

They told us that there were many more to be discovered but demurred to provide clues. I am confident that we will never find all of them. Having said that, I do feel a sense of delight knowing that the next owners of the home will find an array of unexpected and unexplained waterfowl.

Several months later, at our summer gathering, the daughter’s fowl play was the subject of delightful conversation and mirth over family meals.

Then, without warning, in the days after their departure, the cows appeared. On my basement workbench, hidden among cans of Coca Cola in the garage, behind the vase in the den. To date, 38 have been corralled.

Finding each duck, each cow has offered another moment of family delight – often when we need it the most.

The discoveries remind me of how fortunate I am. Each represents another moment of wonder and delight. Both in the context of miniature ducks and cows and more broadly the awareness of all of life’s discoveries, reminds us that today is the birthday of the world.

If there is joy and delight to be found, look homeward angels…and look for ducks and cows.