Growing up in the States, I don’t remember that we made a big deal of Tu Bishvat. One thing on which we were particular was to mark the day by making a “she’hechiyanu” blessing on a new fruit. I remember my mother serving us buxer(carob), a rock-like fruit with an awful taste that she was sure nobody had tasted yet during the year and probably would not taste again till next Tu Bishvat. So, it was 100% eligible for the Shehechayanu blessing.
The transition from Brooklyn city dweller to Israeli citizen exposed me to a people and society who were connected to their land as a basic part of their culture. I learned not to complain about the rain, and with time, to rejoice in it, ignoring its more mundane aspects like leaks and poor gutter drainage.
My cooking skills expanded (along with my waistline) to include fresh herbs and spices which needed to be well rinsed to get the earth off them. As I went about my various shopping errands, I breathed in deeply to smell the fresh herbs planted by the city gardeners. The fragrant scents of lavender, rosemary and lemongrass accompanied me as I ticked items off my list. Orange groves on the side of the highway sported their glistening fruit on the background of deep green leaves.
As the seasons passed, I moved to a house where I had my own garden and could rejoice with each budding fruit and flower. I weeded, cleared away, spread fertilizer and nurtured them. There were unexpected successes and other disappointments. The herb patch was much enjoyed by local insects and the cacti thrived, even blooming forth with exotic red flowers unexpectedly.
This year is Shemittah – the Sabbatical for my garden. After frenzied preparations before Rosh Hashanah, I am now forbidden to work in the garden, and maintenance is permitted only on a basic level. My fingers are itching to prune, tie back and nurture again.
I relinquish control over it to Hashem, acknowledging that He is the one Who creates, gives life and nurtures. Life and death are in His hands. I'm just a simple person trying to do the right thing, but my efforts do not decide the outcome. On the other hand, this does not exempt me from doing my best and watching the fruits of my labor flower, knowing that all is from Him.
Watching the kids playing near the overgrown foliage, my heart overflows with gratitude to Him for giving life and growth to all living things.
Happy Tu BiShvat to you All!
