Sh’ma, God, Listen   

by Nancy Smiler Levinson (Los Angeles, CA)

 On the boulevard near the bus stop in “Persian Square”

I glance a woman, small, mottled skin     California sun

one foot on the curb, the other in the street

She looks painfully sad, lost among the stream of shoppers                   

and I find myself at her side, my arm around her bony shoulder 

Are you alright?  Do you need help?

Her accent is heavy    with my hearing aids I lean in  

Money  mon-ey I need 

Is that what she is saying?  for food?  bus fare?  just in need?

I begin opening my pocketbook, but her hand stops mine

and she pulls me close  I am Jewish, lady,

tomorrow night comes Rosh Hashanah    I need honey

Ah  of course  I too am Jewish    come   I guide her to the bus bench,

bid her wait for me while I take off on foot, a mission of sorts

Blocks on, thank God, in a small market I find honey on the shelf

To the woman, trusting, waiting for me I hand a bear-shaped bottle

God bless you lady, she says, God bless and keep you 

Shana Tova and an abundance of blessings to you, I respond

So. . .  I performed a small mitzvah quietly with heart and soul

But if one speaks aloud of one’s good deed

it might appear as if acted for applause

and thus in the eyes of God, not count

Now listen, God    Sh’ma   I need to share this

because there is a story here  

almost every mitzvah is a story   

or perhaps a small poem

Nancy Smiler Levinson is author of Moments of Dawn: A Poetic Memoir and a chapbook, The Diagnosis Changes Everything. Her work has appeared in Poetica, Jewish Literary Journal, Hamilton Stone Review, Silver Birch Press, Ink in Thirds, Burningword Literary Journal, Minnesota Memories, Constellations, and elsewhere.In past chapters of her life she worked as a journalist, educational book editor, Head Start teacher, and she published some thirty books for young readers (including a biography of Emma Lazarus).