Dear friends,
Our recent trip to the kivrei tzadikim that my daughter Devorah organized was far more than a pleasant outing. It let us step outside the pace of our everyday lives and look at our own stories from a wider, deeper angle.
When you live your life day by day, you are usually focused on the next thing – getting up, getting dressed, davening, going where you need to go. Every interaction is a mixture of who you are in that moment and what you need to do next. Life moves quickly, and you rarely pause long enough to see the larger picture of what you are actually building. It is only when you look at someone’s life from a distance – from the broad arc of beginning to end – that you begin to see how a person shapes himself through choices, courage, and inner strength. Going to kivrei tzadikim can change the way you view the small choices that make a person the individual they emerge as when making big choices. None of these tzadikim knew the end of their stories as they lived their lives.
This feeling accompanied us as we began at the kever of Rabbi Meir Baal HaNess. It is astonishing to think that he descended from Nero (Niron) Caesar, the Roman ruler whose brilliance and power were used destructively and cruelly. Rabbi Meir inherited that same raw intensity but redirected it entirely, transforming it into Torah, depth, and spiritual strength. The Shelah writes that his very name, Meir, (literally the one who gives light) reflects the light of his soul. The Gemara teaches that every unattributed mishneh is actually his. His story is one of fierce commitment and of extraordinary courage – physical, emotional, and spiritual.
We spoke about the famous story of Bruriah’s sister, who had been kidnapped and forced into a brothel. Rabbi Meir traveled to save her. The guard feared that releasing her would lead to his execution, but Rabbi Meir assured him that he would be protected and taught him to say “Eloka d’Rabi Meir aneini.” It worked – a miracle happened and he was saved – and Jews continue to say this tefillah when we need great heavenly help. Standing at his kever made this story feel alive, a reminder of what it means to use strength for goodness.
The site itself has changed over the years. It once had the atmosphere of a lively Sefardi folk festival – food stalls, vendors, ayin hara removers. (I’ll admit: I always loved that energy.) Today, thanks to the enormous investment of the Safra family, the area feels almost like a sacred palace – organized, calm, and full of dignity.
From there we traveled to the kever of the Rambam, another giant of Jewish history whose life shows us how Hashem shapes events. Born into generations of rabbanim and dayanim in Spain, he could have lived a quiet, scholarly life. Instead, the rulers of his time became viciously hostile to Jews, forcing his family to flee. After wandering through North Africa, he eventually reached Egypt, where he became the court physician of Sultan Saladin. His brilliance as a doctor became known throughout the non-Jewish world – but our deepest admiration for him comes from something else entirely.
He organized the entire Oral Torah with unparalleled clarity, and he gave us a concise, eternal summary of the foundations of Jewish belief: the Thirteen Principles of Faith.
Here they are:
1. Hashem exists and created everything, and continues to sustain everything.
Mussar: Notice the constant gifts in your life. Gratitude opens the heart to see His presence in even the smallest details.
2. Hashem is One—absolutely, perfectly One.
Mussar: When life feels scattered, remember that unity flows from the One. Bring your actions into coherence by asking, “What does Hashem want from me right now?”
3. Hashem has no physical form.
Mussar: We cannot confine Hashem to our limited images or expectations. Let go of the urge to fully understand God and focus instead on understanding what He wants you to become.
4. Hashem is eternal—He always was and always will be.
Mussar: Your challenges feel eternal when you’re inside them, but only Hashem is eternal. This reminds us not to panic; moments pass, but the relationship with Him endures.
5. Only Hashem deserves our prayers and devotion.
Mussar: Don’t give your heart to things that can’t give back—status, approval, image. Direct your hopes to the One who actually controls outcomes.
6. The words of the prophets are true.
Mussar: We often trust rumors more than truth. Strengthen your inner sincerity by seeking voices that elevate rather than distract.
7. Moshe Rabbeinu’s prophecy was on a unique, unmatched level.
Mussar: Clarity comes from humility. Moshe reached greatness not through brilliance but through being willing to stand aside for truth.
8. The Torah we have is exactly the Torah given to Moshe.
Mussar: Because Torah is pure and unchanged, our learning must also be honest. Approach Torah with integrity, without twisting it to fit your comfort.
9. The Torah will never be replaced or altered.
Mussar: Trends shift, but Torah’s wisdom is steady. Anchor yourself in something everlasting; let it shape your values instead of the passing winds of the moment.
10. Hashem knows every thought, word, and deed of every person.
Mussar: A person’s true self is who they are when nobody is watching. Cultivate inner honesty—your life is lived before the One who sees the heart.
11. Hashem rewards good and holds us accountable for wrongdoing.
Mussar: Every small act matters more than you think. Don’t underestimate the power of a quiet kindness or the damage of a careless word.
12. Mashiach will come, even if he delays.
Mussar: Hope itself is holy. When you act with faith – choosing patience, choosing goodness – you become part of the world’s redemption.
13. The dead will be resurrected in the time Hashem wills.
Mussar: Nothing in creation is beyond renewal. Even when your spirit feels tired or broken, remember: Hashem can bring life to anything – including you.
Standing by the Rambam, we felt how these ideas – simple in wording but immense in depth – have shaped our people for centuries. His life teaches that greatness does not come from comfort or ease, but from responding to challenge with responsibility, faith, and strength.
This trip gave us the rare chance to step outside our routine, to meet the stories of those who walked before us, and to think about the stories we are writing with our own choices.
With love and gratitude to Devorah for organizing it, and with love to all of you,
Love,
Tziporah
