Ken and Ronit jogged upon the ochre colored stones,
In Jerusalem’s dust filled morning light,
Up paths to where many worlds collide.
Sometimes they would race past ancient tombs
To find themselves within a shopping mall.
And sometimes they ran down roads
Near ruins where Jewish kings had ruled.
The boy and girl were friends amid these hills;
Not lovers, though affection was the bond.
Fresh and open, American as football on an autumn day,
Ken had come the long way home and found
Himself enmeshed amid the Torah’s laws,
A life which sparked his inner soul.
Still, he could not refuse his morning run.
A craving in his muscles urged him on
To show that he was both alive and young.
And to impress Ronit when run was done,
He’d drop to ground to do ten pushups just for fun.
Ronit was beautiful, as young girls are,
No matter what their looks or social grace:
Vital as a white tail deer in spring,
She moved as if supported by the desert wind,
As she ran from place to place.
It was Friday when the bomb went off.
Ronit was browsing in some boutique stores,
As girls will often do, when money’s not yet spent.
Another fate might have had her in her room,
Thinking of a boy, or walking in another part of town;
But not today when death exploded in the street,
Shattering both windows and her dreams.
They say that she was lucky. She only lost an eye
When shards of glass tore through her face,
Ripping flesh in places where her cheek had been.
While she was praying not to die just then,
The medic found her lying in a pool of blood.
Ken went to the hospital that very day.
The damage to her face was great
And fear reached deep within her throat.
But then a few words came and Ken conceived a way
To ease the pain. So holding tight her hand,
He said, “I’ll offer you my push-ups even now.
Pick a number and it will be my vow to you
To do them every day until the time will come
When you can do them, stroke for stroke, with me.”
With just a touch of malice for the eye she lost,
She quickly replied, “Do for me one fifty!”
One hundred and fifty push ups.
More than he had ever done before.
Ken was now observant of the law.
So, he asked his Rebbe, if he must keep
This promise made with little thought
Of how it should be done.
Was this a sacred oath or just some idle words?
Could he skip a day or adjust the number down
When time did not allow?
The Rebbe listened patiently, asked some questions
Of Ken’s health and state of mind,
And then replied quite simply, “A vow’s a vow!”
Ken does his pushups six times a day.
Twenty five per set for every day she cannot run with him.
Within a year Ronit will have her plastic surgery.
But trapped inside the hospital, she cannot see
Ken’s offering of love to G‑d and her
That he performs, nearby the Temple’s wall,
Like ancient priest in supplicating prayer.
And every time he touches down to kiss the ground
Ken hears his Rebbe’s words, “A vow’s a vow!
- Finding the Light of G‑d, pages 141-143