Tears That Shake Heaven: The Pain Behind the Shavuot Candles

A friend of mine has a 41 year-old-single sister, and yesterday he told me something I have not stopped thinking about since.

A year ago, right before Shavuot, his oldest son approached him with a request. The boy learns in a very serious yeshiva, and he told his father that for Shavuot he wanted to spend the holiday in one of the great yeshivas in Israel, where they have intense “shtaygen,” nonstop Torah learning with complete devotion and almost no distractions.

Let’s pause for a second and appreciate what kind of teenager says something like that.

How many boys today go to their father and say:
“Dad, I want to spend Shavuot immersed in Torah learning at one of the great yeshivas of the Jewish people”?

But what stayed with me most was not the request itself. It was the conversation that followed.

His son said:
“Dad, there must be a huge commotion in Heaven when hundreds of yeshiva students are learning Torah together with such intensity.”

My friend looked at him and answered:
“You’re right. I’m sure there is tremendous noise in Heaven from all that Torah learning. But if you want to know what true joy before Hashem looks like, I’ll tell you where you can find it.

“If you ever walk into my sister’s apartment and watch her lighting Shabbat or Yom Tov candles with pure olive oil, know that in those moments there is immense joy before Hashem. A mighty sound rises from those moments from one end of the world to the other.”

The Prayer of a Broken Heart

My friend continued:

“And if you stand there quietly for another moment, you’ll probably see the tears falling from her eyes as she prays. A prayer rising from the depths of a wounded heart, no less than the prayer of Chana herself.

“A single woman standing there carrying years of disappointment, loneliness, embarrassment, and pain, yet still turning to Hashem with faith.”

At that point my friend became emotional. His eyes filled with tears.

And then he said something I will never forget.

“And Still We Have Not Forgotten Your Name”

“How many single men and women are there today,” he asked me, “who have every reason in the world to walk away from everything?

“They waited.
They hoped.
They prayed.
And still nothing happened.

“Every holiday they watch younger relatives get married and build families while they remain standing in the same painful place year after year.

“They could easily say:
‘Hashem, we tried. We waited. We did everything we were supposed to do. And what did we receive in return?’

“But instead, they continue lighting candles.
They continue praying.
They continue showing up before Hashem.

“And despite everything, they say:
‘Still, we have not forgotten Your Name.’”

Tears That Reach Heaven

Then my friend said something extraordinary.

“If Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev were alive today,” he told me, “he would probably say that even one tear from a single Jew like this is worth more than thousands of Iron Dome, Arrow, and David’s Sling missiles combined.”

He stopped speaking for a moment. Took a deep breath. Drank some water.

Then he told me what happened that Shavuot.

His single sister came to spend the holiday with the family. And for the first time, his son paid close attention while she lit the candles.

He stood there quietly watching her.

When she finished the blessing, he walked over to her holding his Gemara and asked:
“Aunt, can you give me a blessing?”

She looked at him in confusion.

“What am I?” she asked. “Some kind of rebbetzin or kabbalist?”

But he insisted.

“Please,” he told her. “Just give me a blessing.”

So she closed her eyes and blessed him.

The Holiest Torah Learning

Afterward, my friend’s son brought over a chair and a shtender and sat beside the candles his aunt had lit.

For fifteen minutes he learned Gemara quietly beside those flickering flames, flames carrying years of tears, hope, pain, faith, and longing.

Later he told his father:
“I’ve learned Torah in many places. But this time, I felt a completely different kind of elevation.”

Before You Continue Walking

Shavuot is approaching.

And maybe, on the way to another Torah class, another lecture, another all night learning session, it is worth pausing for one moment if you meet a single man or woman carrying years of silent pain with dignity and faith.

Maybe it is worth asking them for a blessing.

Because they say their tears make a very great noise in Heaven.