In the short time I knew you, Ruchy, I realized you were anything but typical. There was something about you that made you stand out. You stood with such dignity and held yourself like a regal princess – a true bas melech. You were so soft spoken, so bachaint, so pure, and so aidel. You always had a calmness about you.

I remember one evening I came by to drop something off. It was that chaotic time of supper, baths, homework and bedtime, yet you opened the door so relaxed and all was peaceful inside. Being in your presence was a dose of tranquility. The love you had for your kinderlach  was obvious when you called me for advice on a certain matter and said I’m so torn about what to do I just want to make sure I’m doing the right thing for this child and I could hear the care in your voice it was eating you up inside.

Your uniqueness was evident in the beautiful words said by those who were maspid you. It made me, and everyone sitting there, realize what kind of a treasure was taken from us. You were an  ishah tzidkaniyos in every way. Your husband so eloquently spoke about what a person of aliya you were. You were always striving to grow and to better yourself and your family.

You brought  that  growth to the Raintree community like no one else could have. As soon as we heard the devastating news, we all took upon ourselves personal kabalos in tzniyus, tzniyus learning groups were started, nightly tehillim was said, Friday night tehillim gatherings were started, tzedaka functions were organized, mishmor learning was set up amongst the men, and phones were brought in to be filtered. We tried to pile on as many zechusim as we could for you to have a refuah but Hashem wanted your lofty neshama  next to Him -you had already completed your tachlis.

Ruchy, as a baalas aliya you didn’t just elevate yourself and your family, you raised each one of us-you raised an entire community  and started a movement of growth amongst women that only a tzadekes can accomplish!

I speak for everyone when I say “No matter how hard I try I can’t stop crying.” When I am finally able to dry my eyes it’s only temporary because a whole new stream of hot tears cascade down my cheeks threatening never to stop. I don’t know how to move on- I don’t think one can move on from such a tragedy.

My son asks me who will take care of her kinerlach? I don’t know how to respond. The pain is so deep the hurt is so raw. I seem to be walking around in a daze. Physically I’m present but my mind is miles away.

Ruchy, I keep seeing your temimusdikeh face. It’s that vision that stops me from saying that juicy piece of Lashon hara or prevents me from walking around in a way that may not be befittng. It’s you that makes me want to become a better wife and mother. You continue to inspire me to daven and reach out to Hashem for chizuk when  I feel so bereft. Your whole mahus  was to be close to the eibeshter and you continue to inspire others to do the same from up in shamayim.

May Hashem bring nechama to your parents, siblings, husband, and kinderlach and  may you be a melitza yeshara for us all.

A Neighbor

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