(Author: Zita Nurok, Vol. 80, #1, Autumn 2025)
The willow tree at the bottom of our backyard garden was the gift that nature gave me as a Jewish child growing up in small-town South Africa. It offered me the riches of my childhood with freedom to explore, to imagine and create, and to fantasize. It was a magical place – a place to play, a place where my friends and I shared and laughed together – about school, about our older and younger brothers or sisters, or about games we enjoyed playing.
We talked about the different riches of being Jewish but in our very own eight or nine-year old way. What were these?
Shabbat was when the same small group of families gathered at the shul every week for services, and we the children of those families often played outside in the backyard, periodically returning to participate in the service and to enjoy the singing of prayers.
Cheder was where we learned how to read and translate Hebrew which was helpful as we grew older when we read prayers during various holidays both at shul and in our homes.
Sometimes we talked about the holidays as those occurred during the year, with Simchat Torah being the favorite because everyone was given bags of candy prepared by the older children, and also because the women and girls sat downstairs with the men and boys for that service only. Rich times.
If we played around the tree on Friday afternoons before Shabbat that night, we would create ‘candles’ out of sticks, and we’d sing the blessings for those ‘candles.’ Mom who was usually busy in the kitchen preparing for Shabbat, often came down to listen and to join in with our singing. Each of us imagined what favorite ‘foods’ to include for our Friday night supper, and she would give us ideas of what to add to the meal. We used leaves as plates, stones if we talked about kneidlach, grasses for fish or other delicacies.
And when the English or Afrikaans -speaking neighborhood friends came to play we climbed the flowing branches and jumped down from different levels. Who could climb the highest and jump down from the tallest branch? The bark felt rough and cracked, and the smooth shiny leaves were long and narrow.
Whenever we brought our dolls we sat them around the tree and pretended that they talked with each other. We sang favorite songs in English and Afrikaans, that we had learned at school.
We pretended to be doctors, or nurses, oftentimes teachers, firemen, or policemen, each with what we thought were their specific, important roles.
Holding hands, we skipped and danced around the tree, hugging it, and enjoying the riches of our friendships even more.
As we grew older we no longer played under that willow tree. Rather, we spent time around it sometimes reading, perhaps sharing homework, and sometimes merely talking and listening to the rustle of those willowy leaves blowing in the wind.
On Shabbat afternoons after attending shul services, our family often relaxed in that special place, appreciating the season’s weather whatever time of the year it was. In the winter the tree shed its leaves, but the drooping branches remained graceful, being able to withstand cold and frosty weather, and at other times even drought. We looked forward to springtime when buds began to appear on the stems. In large windstorms the tree’s flexibility allowed it not to snap.
My father told us of stories that he had read, about willow trees known as Aravah in Hebrew. He became interested in the topic when he discovered that the willow tree is in fact referred to several times in the Torah as a symbol of life and growth, but the drooping branches also represent sorrow, sadness, and mourning. The tree is linked to prayers for rain, especially during the holiday of Sukkot. Hoshanah Rabah occurs on the seventh day of Sukkot. Willow branches had been gathered from our tree and from others around the town. These were available when we came to shul, to be shaken seven times during the service on that day, as a symbol of the need for water and rain for crops.
In Leviticus 23:40 the willow branch is mentioned with other leafy trees as part of the celebration on (Hoshana Rabah) the seventh day of Sukkot.
A verse in Isaiah 44:4 suggests that God’s people will flourish like willow trees that grow near water.
In the book of Job 40:22 the tree is associated with protection and comfort.
Psalms 137:2 describes the Jews in Babylonian captivity “We hanged our harps upon the willows….”
Willow trees generally need a good amount of water. Although there were no sources of water where our tree grew, it flourished nevertheless, and remained healthy all through our growing years.
Different people live in ‘our house’ now, but the memories of those riches that contributed to the beginnings of my Jewish childhood created around that willow tree, will forever remain.
- Zita Nurok, a regular contributor to Jewish Affairs, is a former elementary school teacher who grew up in South Africa. In 2019, she retired after 48 years of teaching, nine of which were at the then Jewish Government School in Doornfontein.
