THE BLANK PAPER
Today marks the 20th yartzeit of my grandfather Rabbi Yechiel Michel Piekarski. He passed away on Shushan Purim Kattan (that year was a Jewish leap year) in 5755 (1995) and now we’re at the day after Purim in 5775 (2015). I have many memories of him, since I stayed at their Crown Heights home, on President Street near Utica Ave, while I studied at the Oholei Torah Yeshiva in Brooklyn from age ten to age twenty. (Last year I shared 3 memories of him, and this year I wrote up some more here). Tonight I want to share the memory about the blank paper.
There were special occasions or reasons when we’d write a letter to the Rebbe, especially before Rosh Hashanah. It was called a “Pidyon Nefesh” of “PaN” for short. We also wrote similar letters to the Previous Rebbe on special occasions when we would go to the “Ohel” at the cemetery. I remember my grandfather teaching me the introductory traditional text “Ana L’Orer Rachamim Rabim” with which to begin a letter to the Previous Rebbe at the Ohel. I actually remember the look of his handwriting on the crisp, clean, unlined white paper.
For some reason, and it is observed this way today at the Ohel as well, we only used crisp, clean, unlined paper. Times have changed, when I was a kid getting lined hole-punched loose-leaf paper, aka “filler paper” was a big priority on school lists, today it isn’t needed as much. There are notebooks that do better jobs and much of our writing is on the computer anyways. And today with computers and desktop printing everyone has a ream or two of blank paper all the time, its normal to have such paper around. But back then, I remember the uniqueness of specifically using unlined paper for a Pan letter.
My grandfather was meticulous and particular about things. He kept a stash of this special paper inside a tall book that was on the first shelf of one of the living room bookcases. I remember actually, because his books all had a proper place, everything was in order.
At any rate, he kept those papers standing like soldiers, pressed inside the pages of a tall book on that shelf. I don’t remember what that book was, only that it was unremarkable. It was a Hebrew book but for whatever reason not significant to my grandfather for any other purpose than to hold these Pan pages pressed neatly. These pages were not used for anything else, only for writing a Pan.
It’s twenty years later and this memory got me wondering. Why is that Chassidim use blank paper to write these “Pan” letters to the Rebbe? What’s wrong with lined paper?
Perhaps there’s a message here. Blank paper is like a blank canvas, or the “new paper” that Ethics of our Fathers speaks of. Anything is possible. There are no pre-conceived notions, no prior baggage.
As UAlbany prepares to shut down for Spring Break, and all of you get a well-deserved getaway break, its also an opportunity to reboot and refresh, come back renewed. Like a computer that has been on too long with too many programs running, sometimes a simple shut down and restart allows it to clear its mind or desktop if you will, and start fresh.
Having said that, and while all this is true, there’s also a flip side from this week’s Torah portion, that’s true as well:
BROKEN TABLETS IN THE ARK
This week we read of the Golden Calf, and Moses coming down the mountain and breaking the tablets. So whatever happened to the broken tablets?
Here’s the interesting thing. The Talmud tells us that BOTH sets of the Tablets were placed in the Ark. The broken set and the complete set were both preserved, both sitting together in the Holy of Holies.
Everyone has whole and broken parts of their lives. Sometimes people are too quick to throw out the broken pieces, they are eager to shed that part of their lives and move on. There’s a powerful life message here. The broken pieces also belong inside our Ark. We take them along with us, they helps us grow, they are part of who we are.
So while fresh restarts are healthy, we recognize that our past comes along and grows along with us. Both are true.