So, here we are in our new apartment in Cherry Hill. I am blissfully happy, fully aware that yes, I do live in New Jersey. Our move went off basically without a hitch, thanks to my husband’s and my brother-in-law Shloimie’s muscle. Yonah is thrilled with his “new ‘patment” and has already marked his territory by chucking his board books across the living room. We’ve had a very warm welcome here, with plenty of invitations for Shabbos meals and playdates. Our friend Baruch even treated us to pizza at Perlin’s, the local kosher vegetarian hotspot, as an official initiation into the community. It feels like we’ve been here for years, instead of just a few days.

There is no way to adequately describe the wonder of going from the Jewish famine that is Cape Cod to an actual, thriving community. The local ShopRite has an entire section (a ROOM, people, not an aisle) called “The Kosher Experience”. When Shuie and I walked in the other night, my mouth fell open. I practically burst into song a la Maria Von Trapp: “A Butcher that cuts kosher beef to my liking! Prepared Carrot Kugel and lox, oh, how striking! A ten-pack of Empire hot chicken wings, these are a few of my favorite things…”.

Suffice it to say, I am loving Cherry Hill. We are slowly, slowly getting unpacked. One box or suitcase a day is my goal, so I imagine we’ll be settled in officially by the time Kivi leaves for college. It was nice to rediscover all my old dishes and cookware that were sitting, unused, in the basement of the Cape house for almost two years, and use them in my OWN kitchen. I am already champing at the bit to invite guests, but I am going to play it cool and let myself be a guest for a while.

While I am still in the first flush of love with Cherry Hill, I am also suffering from hunger pangs, since today is Tisha B’Av, or the Ninth of the month of Av, a fast day that commemorates the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash, the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, where the Shechina, G-d’s presence, dwelled. Jews would travel there three times a year to offer sacrifices to G-d to atone for sins and to offer thanks for various blessings. It was the place where we could, in a sense, actively interact with G-d. When the Romans came and destroyed it, it was a devastating loss. Other tragic events that have befallen the Jewish people, from the times of the Crusades, to the Inquisition and even the Holocaust, have also eerily fallen on this date. So our fast is also to mourn for those tragedies as well.

However, Jewish tradition holds that even though the Temple was destroyed on Tisha B’Av, it will also be rebuilt on Tisha B’Av, when Moshiach, the Messiah, comes. This is a beautiful idea, which offers hope even in the face of tragic loss. The darkest of times can make for the most joyful and restorative of times. Without loss, we would not know blessing. Without sadness, we would not know true joy. Without pain, we would not grow.

With that in mind, I pray for much growth and reparation for all of us, the coming of Moshiach and the redemption of our people, and never having to fast again.