Imagine donning a helmet, goggles, and wildly colored ski overalls and tearing down the powdery slopes of the Grand Tetons, soaking your sore muscles in a bubbly hot tub against the frosty air après ski, singing BJ tunes with Jews from Jackson Hole, giggling with new friends in fake moose head hats in a mostly-moose shop, reading passages by great rebbes under a grand, shifting sky pierced by 10-million-year-old mountaintops, dancing the two-step with partners in ten-gallon hats at a local cowboy bar, and even, well…overhearing, through a restroom stall door at Bubba's Diner, gossip about who kissed whom on the trip.

For a week in February, I had the privilege of joining a group going to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, organized by the town of Jackson's new rabbi, Mike Comins, who coordinated the trip with BJ's Anne Kohn. Twenty participants from New York and two from L.A. – an almost curiously harmonious bunch of psychologists, lawyers, bankers, writers, and racehorse owners – joined this maiden journey of the rabbi's new travel organization, aptly called TorahTrek.

Snowy Landscapes, Elk, and Wildlife Art
In addition to downhill skiing and a more extreme version, called snowcatting, many in the group also enjoyed cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and dog sledding. Many of us also took a day trip to ski in Grand Targhee, Wyoming, one to Yellowstone National Park, and brief excursions to the National Elk Preserve and the National Museum of Wildlife Art. Many of us sampled a fine array of local restaurants, galleries, and shops in the town of Jackson, which welcomes visitors to its town square under arches made of antlers.

The Earth's Continuity
My main activity was cross-country skiing. I was out there, merrily shooshing through virgin snow, in sub-freezing weather. The midday sun on the snowy meadow created the effect of skiing in a vast jewelbox, a sea of tiny jewels exploding their brilliant rays of light in every direction. I stopped and took in a deep breath. It felt profound that I was breathing the same air that my ancestors once breathed. I took a moment to close my eyes and imagine them. All of us, from the beginning of time to now, and those still to come, holding hands, circling the earth. A gorgeous dance through time…but for how long into the future, I thought, will it continue? And how can we prepare to welcome future generations to this sacred Earth?

Tu B'Shvat Seder and Shabbat Snowshoe Trek
It was Tu B'Shvat, and the tree is the central symbol of this holiday. The tree – like Judaism – takes sustenance from its roots, as well as the great source of light that shines from above. Mike invited congregants from the Jackson Chaverim to join our group at a Tu B'Shvat seder, at which we honored the tree, and prayed for the health and continuity of the Earth. We ate symbolic fruits and nuts, had four cups of wine, and sang songs in Hebrew and English to the magical guitar accompaniment of the Jackson Chaverim's cantor, Judd Grossman, as well as BJ congregant, Anita Haravon.

On Shabbat, Mike led a half-day snowshoeing trek up one of the slopes. The group sang Ma Gadlu (how great are your works, oh God, and how deep are your thoughts…), and shared moments of prayer and silence, and BJ member, Mary Porter, read passages on the sacredness of nature.

A Spiritual Opportunity
A group of us heading home for New York were presented with a spiritual opportunity on the plane ride. As I walked down the aisle toward my seat, I saw Brent, the waiter who served us a couple of group dinners at the hotel. He told me that his father had just died, and that he was returning home to be with his brothers and sisters.

I internalized the feeling of profound grief that Brent projected. I spread the word to the 15 BJers on the plane. They all wanted to participate in making a gesture to demonstrate our collective compassion toward Brent. Anne offered me a beautiful piece of stationery that I folded into a card onto which I wrote a poem for Brent. Serene Seebol told me that she regretted not having added a little extra to the prepaid group gratuity to Brent on the last dinner, which was on Shabbat. Lilli Groisser helped me with a collection, and in obtaining signatures on the card. Matt Matkovsky concocted a makeshift money envelope from a beautiful nature scene in one of the flight magazines.

A Gesture of Compassion
I gave the poem and money envelope to Brent, and told him that this gesture was an expression of support, compassion, and sympathy from his friends at BJ. And that the collection, of over $100, was a belated thanks, independent of this terribly sad occasion. He extended his hand and warmly thanked us. Brent later told Lilli, who sat several rows behind him, that he would keep the card forever, and that he was deeply moved by our gesture. Here's the poem:

Now, back in New York, I see many of my new friends at Shabbat services and BJ activities. We've formed a bond and a spirited sense of community, and I feel thankful to have shared meals, prayer, snowy mountain activities, and the opportunity to reach out to another human being in a gesture of compassion on the plane. On a different note, in case you were wondering who kissed whom on the trip…sorry, but after a crescendo of giggles among four of us in the ladies' room at Bubba's, we all vowed to the kisser to keep it a secret.

Respectfully submitted by: Nancy Ancowitz © Copyright 2001