I wrote this poem when my son was a guard at the kotel during his army service…
My son, at the kotel you stand and guard,
Helping keep safe those you regard,
Checking big knapsacks, suitcases, pockets
Being on guard for bombs, knives and rockets.
To the people who come there,
You’re just a young man,
Doing his job
To prevent all from harm.
No one does know, my dear son, only me,
How many tears I have shed over thee.
All the years that we struggled, and misunderstood,
Now coming together, to a place that is good.
You are not religious, but I love you so,
For you are my holy child, sent from above.
A talmid chacham I thought you would be,
But G-d had other plans in store for me.
So He sent me a son who chose a different route
And helped me to grow, to become more astute,
So I learned how to love you, because you are mine,
And be happy that we are so close, you and I.
Every morning I daven, and humbly ask
That my beautiful son will be safe at his task.
That the thousands of tefillos he hears night and day,
From the guard’s gate will fly into his soul and there stay.
That the people who pass by my son every day
Will stop for a moment, to smile and say.
“Thank you kind shomer, for a job so well done.
As we pour out our hearts to the Holy One.”
A kiddush Hashem it would be for my child,
If you would take the opportunity, and stay a while
To speak to the guard with the beautiful eyes,
Or any of the other guards, there at his side.
For all of those shomrim are children you know,
Belonging to parents who love them so.
When you see those guards, think a moment or two
Remember, those children could be your children too.
