When Dale Sang Hebrew

Dear Justice and Justin,

I'm watching video clips from our wedding last November, and without a doubt, my first favorite scene is where the two of you come bursting through the doors on your scooters, riding, spinning and circling around the aisles to "When You Wish Upon a Star" from Pinocchio. The music swells, harps and flutes, and people actually gasp and laugh when the two of you come flying in wearing your dress and your tuxedo, your scooters decorated with leaves and flowers and great big bows. Nobody expected such a fun and amazing entrance and the two of you stole the show.

My second favorite video clip is one I can't even see, really. It's the one where my friend Dale, who I've known for a million years, picks up the cantor's guitar, sits on the front of the stage and sings "Erev Shel Shoshanim," or "Evening of Roses," a traditional Hebrew wedding song he learned just for us. Frustratingly out of view of the camera but crystal clear in voice nonetheless, Dale sits down, plays softly and sings...his gentle voice filling the sanctuary.

Erev shel shoshanim
Nitzeh na el habustan
Mor besamim ulevona
Leraglecha miftan.

You guys remember Dale. You met him in Wisconsin when we visited in the summer. He showed you magic tricks and you climbed all over him in the Village Inn pool, and Justin, when we went to his house, he let you taste your first Big Mac. Two or three things I know for sure, and one of them is you can always count on Dale for a Big Mac if you need one.

The song he's singing in our wedding clip means this:

Evening of roses.
Let's go out to the grove.
Myrrh, perfumes, and incense
Are a threshold at your feet.

Daddy and I put an interesting, new, not-so-new threshold at your feet when you came to live with us last year. You see, we're Jewish...and you were too...but you probably don't remember. You were born Jewish, to a Jewish birth mom, and for a little while you lived with your grandma, who is Orthodox Jewish...but you were very little then, so you probably didn't remember too much about what it is or what it means.

By the time we found you, the two of you had been living with Mormon foster parents for three years, more used to a church than a synagogue, more used to Christmas than Hanukkah, and certainly unaware of the other holidays you celebrated with us this year like Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot and Simchat Torah.

But I have to say, you've done marvelously and adapted wonderfully to a world of new customs and experiences. Whether it was helping us build a sukkah in our backyard in September, laughing and hanging fruit, or sitting with the rest of the kids on the synagogue floor, watching wide-eyed while the grown-ups unrolled and rerolled the beautiful, giant Torah scroll in October, you've been with us every step of the way. I don't know if that's the resiliency of childhood or the fact that a Jewish light has always remained in your souls, but we're proud of you for how easily and quickly you embraced what is essentially, in your eyes now, a brand new culture and religion.

Just like Dale, who never sang Hebrew in his life before our wedding, you were beautiful and warm and open to trying all these words and all these customs that may have sounded strange and unfamiliar:

Layla yored le'at
Veru'ach shoshan noshvah
Havah elchash lecha shir balat
Zemer shel ahava

The night falls slowly
A breeze of roses blows
Let me whisper a song to you quietly
A song of love.

Daddy and I chuckled to ourselves before we asked Dale to sing that song at our wedding. We knew we wanted him to sing, but we wondered what. We love the song "You're My Home" by Billy Joel, and we almost had him sing that one, but at the last minute, we decided that would sound pretty as a duet by two girls, our friends Kate and Elizabeth.

"I know," I giggled to Daddy. "Let's make Dale do 'Erev Shel Shoshanim.'"

"In Hebrew?" Daddy giggled back.

We thought we were being pretty smart because Dale's a great guitar player and a great singer, and in his life, he's probably learned dozens of songs for dozens, maybe hundreds of weddings. He gets asked to sing for stuff like that all the time. But Daddy and I were feeling pretty proud of ourselves because Dale's not Jewish, and we're pretty sure nobody's asked him to sing in Hebrew before. You'll discover this too when you have lifelong friends. Sometimes the very best fun is trying to get them to do something they've never had to do before just to see if you can make them freak out a little. Believe me, the fun of that never goes away.

So, Daddy and I were feeling pretty darn proud of ourselves, asking Dale to sing in Hebrew for our wedding, but when we asked him to do it, it didn't even phase him.

"Sure," he said. "I'd be honored."

Daddy and I just sort of looked at each other, dumbstruck.

We sent him the lyrics and a You Tube clip. And without any coaching from us, he learned it perfectly on his own.

At the last minute, a half-hour before the wedding, Daddy even changed some of the words on him, because Dale had learned the regular male-to-female version of the wedding song, and Hebrew has some different verb changes if it's male-to-male. But it didn't slow him down one bit.

We stood out in the hallway before the wedding party walked in, and a hush fell over all of us when he started singing it. Perfectly. Flawlessly.

Daddy looked at me and said, "That's Dale!"

"I know!" I said. And I couldn't believe it either. And I smiled. And I wiped a tear from my eye that he learned this, and he did this for us, so beautifully, so gracefully.

My children, someday I hope you two have a friend like that.

Listen to the video clip and he's still singing it flawlessly, right down to the last verse:

Shachar homa yonah
Roshcha maleh t'lalim
Picha el haboker shoshana
Ektefenu li.

"At dawn, a dove is cooing," he's singing. "Your hair is filled with dew. Your lips to the morning are like a rose. I'll pick it for myself."

It's a very pretty wedding song, and someday, I can't help but dream, maybe he'll sing it at your weddings, too.

It's been a beautiful thing, Justice and Justin, watching you re-find your Jewish heritage this year. Just yesterday in the car, I was playing one of your childrens CD's, and the Hebrew song, Hinei Ma Tov came on. You were deep in concentration, Justin, doing your word search book, but I heard your high little voice singing along and I smiled.

Justice, when we leave the house and we're running late, Daddy always smiles when he hears you say, "Achshav, achshav!" ("Right now, right now!") because you already know what that means.

At Shabbat services on Friday night, in your Sunday school classes over the weekends, and in the course of your school day at the Adelson Educational Campus, where Justice, your Hebrew teacher told us you're one of the best students in her class, we're so proud of both of you and the effortless way you've rediscovered and re-embraced who you've always been...Jewish children, strong and proud.

Some days I watch all this with a father's incredulousness, because it feels like God Himself is singing a love song just for you.

Layla yored le'at
Veru'ach shoshan noshvah
Havah elchash lecha shir balat
Zemer shel ahava

The night falls slowly
A breeze of roses blows
Let Me whisper a song to you quietly
A song of love.

May you continue to be loved, just like that, always. May all of us, your family and friends, have the ability to guide you in the journey. And just like Dale, when he first sang Hebrew, may it always be something that's new to you, and wonderful and special.

Y'simcha Elohim k'Efrayimm v'chiM'naseh.
May God make you like Ephraim and Menasseh.

Y'simeich Elohim k'Sarah, k'Rivkah, k'Rachel v'Leah.
May God make you like Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah.

Y'varech'cha Adonai v'yism'recha.
Ya-eir Adonai panav eilecha vichunecka.
Yisa Adonia panav eilecha v'yaseim l'cha shalom.

May God bless you and keep you.
May God's light shine upon you and may God be gracious unto you.
May you feel God's Presence within you always, and may you find peace.

Amen.