Grandma's Tallit Poem by Lewis Eron

The old, worn, large wool tallit
Missing its fringes
Which I thought was my grandfather's
Actually belonged to his wife,
My grandmother,
Long after he had gone.

She was small
The tallit was large
And wrapped in it
She kept warm.

She kept the tallit
Missing its fringes
While missing her husband
Who had died.

She kept it safe
It kept her warm
And saved it for me.
I keep it in a draw
Wrapped up.

After he went niftar - died
And the tallit became pasul - void
She kept it with her
And it kept her warm
And it kept him present
And it kept her alive
Not forever
But for a very long time.

Wrapping oneself in a tallit is a mitzvah,
Remembering one's love is a brachah,
Staying warm on a cold night is a michayyah,
Nothing lasts forever
But even a broken tallit has enduring value.