In this past Shabbat (Beth-El, April 17, 2026), Rabbi Uri Lam spoke about tragedy and celebration, drawing on the teachings of the great sage Maimonides.

This is a special Shabbat, known as Shabbat Tekumá, between Yom HaShoah and Yom HaAtzmaut. It symbolizes the transition from tragedy to celebration, from destruction to the rebuilding of a people.

In the 12th century, the great sage Maimonides, the Rambam, explained in his Guide for the Perplexed (vol. 3, ch. 12) that “Genesis can only occur through destruction; and without the destruction of individual members of the species, the species itself would not exist permanently…” A harsh statement, if taken out of context. We tend to think that a species continues through life, not through the death of its members.

In our times, in the 21st century, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks taught that Jewish tradition has always been dedicated to making the living body a vehicle for the Divine Presence. For him, the reason is simple. The world we inhabit is the one God created and declared to be “very good.”

Yet this “very good world” is not easy to understand. Outside, there are wars and deaths; hopes rise and vanish in a breath. In this week’s Torah portion, the birth of a girl apparently causes more suffering to the mother than the birth of a boy, making her recovery from childbirth longer. How strange.

So what makes this world “very good”? Mothers. Mothers sanctify the body and this world, making it better than it was before.

And I can prove it. Let us return to 1943 in Ukraine. We are in the village of Bershad. It had once been a place where many Jews lived, far from the greatest dangers of Nazi persecution, since the railway line had not reached there. But over time, Bershad became a ghetto, then an extermination camp for Jews from Bukovina and Bessarabia, in Transnistria, marked by the sadistic barbarity of German and Romanian Nazis. At the beginning of the war, thousands of deportees, including women and children, were taken to Bershad. Many died along the way, of hunger, disease, or were shot. Their bodies were abandoned by the roadside.

In the first winter of the war, 1941–1942, the highest number of deaths occurred. Of approximately 21,000 people in Bershad, 18,000 died. It was in this hell that, in 1943, Eti Koffler Rappaport was born, surrounded by brutality, hunger, and uncertainty. But she survived, because she was the daughter of Gisa.

Thinking of Gisa, Eti’s mother, I reread and perhaps finally understood Maimonides’ statement: “Genesis can only occur through destruction, and without the destruction of individual members of the species, the species itself would not exist permanently…”

Amid destruction, after two miscarriages, Gisa gave birth to Eti Rappaport. Gisa was a true heroic mother. From her diary, preserved by her granddaughter, we know: “By miracle she (Eti) survived, for she had no breast milk, nor cow’s milk, much less adequate food, and there was no hygiene.”

It is said that every night, until the end of the war, Gisa held little, fragile Eti in her arms, rocked her, and sang to her a famous Yiddish lullaby from the 1930s. Its author, Leibu Levin, performed it on stages throughout Romania. The song was called Leyg dayn kop and went like this:

Leyg dayn kop oyf mayne kni Leibu Levin

Leyg dayn kop oyf mayne kni, Gut azoy tsu lign; Kinder shlofn ayn aleyn, Groyse darf men vign.

Kinder hobn shpilechlech, Shpiln ven zey viln; Groyse shpiln nor mit zich, Muzn eybik shpiln.

Hob keyn moyre — ich bin do, ich’vel dich nit farshtoysn; Host shoin haint genug gevent, Vi se past a groysn.

Ongeveynt un ongeklogt — ich’vel dir itst farvign; Leyg dayn kop oyf mayne kni, Zis-gut azoy tsu lign.

Lay your head upon my knees, It is good to lie this way; Children fall asleep like this, Grown-ups need to be rocked.

Children have their toys – and play whenever they wish; Grown-ups only play alone, and must keep playing forever.

Do not worry – I am here, I will not turn you away; You have cried enough today, Like a grown-up.

You have cried so much – now I will rock you to sleep; Lay your head upon my knees, It is good to lie this way.

When Gisa finished singing, little Eti closed her eyes and slept, protected and comforted in her mother’s arms. And it was here that I understood Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’ statement that Jewish tradition has always made the living body a vehicle for the Divine Presence. “The world we inhabit,” he said, “is the one God created and pronounced as ‘very good.’” The lap of mother Gisa, who gave birth to Eti and sang for her to lay her head upon her knees, was, for Eti, the entire world; and it was very good.

Thanks to her mother, Eti survived. With the end of the war, she rebuilt her life in São Paulo, transforming pain into a purpose of dedication to others. For more than 50 years, Eti worked with generosity and commitment in the Community Fund, leaving a profound mark on all who crossed her path. Those who lived with her say that Eti was a builder of bridges, a guardian of memory, and a living example that even after the greatest tragedies, it is possible to sow solidarity, dignity, and hope. Eti Rappaport passed away on April 12, 2026, at the age of 82. May her story serve as inspiration.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)