A numb winter coldness
Pierced through the walls
Of a hut on the edge of the town.
She’d already stopped trying
To soothe the child she had born.
The Alter Rebbe
Feeling the pain
Alone, he went to her aid.
Chopped wood for the fire,
Warmed milk for the babe,
While Ne’ilah was prayed.
Going out of his way,
The Rebbe did portray
The importance of Tzedokah B’guf.
Tzedokah, Tzedokah, Tzedokah,
That is what we give -
To poor people,
To help them live.
So they’ll have food and clothes,
Even a penny a day -
Before we start to pray!
I do all kinds of work; my name is Mr. Fix,
But Shabbos day, I don’t; I work the other six.
I shlep, I build, I paint, a whole week I don’t sit -
But Shabbos day, I won’t; that’s the day I quit!
I will not dig a hole, pour water on a plant,
I will not mow the lawn, the Torah says I can’t.
I will not milk a cow; I don’t even know how
To grind the grains of wheat the Torah won’t allow.
‘Cause Shabbos I don’t do melacha.
Like it says in the halacha
That is why I have hatzlacha
In all the weekday work I do.
There are thirty-nine melachas
I will do for your mishpacha,
Except on Shabbos. What a bracha
When my work is through.
There’s something you should know.
On Shabbos, I don’t bake -
I do not knead the dough.
Your bangs I will not clip.
I really do not care
If I don’t get a tip.
I will not clean your socks,
I will not paint your walls,
I won’t wind your clock.
Even if they tear.
Don’t tell me it’s not fair -
Go wear another pair!
That comes into my house.
I will not kill a bug,
Or catch a little mouse.
Or draw your funny face.
And pictures that I’ve drawn,
I cannot erase.
The laces on my feet.
I won’t cut up a board -
Or a paper sheet.
Anywhere in town.
A building you don’t want,
I won’t knock it down.
With broken legs or feet.
I’m sorry if you must
Find another seat.
On Shabbos I refrain.
And I won’t put it out -
Instead I’ll wait for rain.
I would never go
On Shabbos for a ride.
And I would surely never
Carry things outside.
But please let me stress,
That I will not do any
Ff the Lamid tes!
Eaten by all Jews with Seichel even when it is Farbrent!
First take fourteen gallon pot, 90 potatoes that’s a lot -
Ten bags of beans off the shelf, make sure that you don’t fall in yourself.
Twenty-two pounds of bones and meat, pour in some ketchup, make it sweet.
Then throw in anything of which you think, anything but the kitchen sink.
Eating cholent won’t make you slimmer, I can assure you - it will not!
Be extra careful once you start, you’ll have more feeling in your heart.
Cholent will do wonders for your soul; make sure you don’t eat more than one bowl.
Cholent is a food that’s so Geshmak, some say it goes down like a rock.
Eating it gives us much to gain, all week the memories of cholent do remain.
Do not carry things about.
Get those bulging pockets clear
Of the things you hold so dear.
And a million other things.
Don’t take them to Shul with you -
Be a perfect Shabbos Jew!
After I eat I bentch.
Friday night I make kiddish,
Because I am yiddish.
I’m Popey the Sailor Mentch.
To visit his Bubby on the East Side.
Each Friday morning, he traveled by trolley
To bring back some of his Bubbe’s fresh challey.
She said, “Eat my challos; es is gut far alles -
You’ll feel so good if you just eat my challos.
If you’ll eat mein challos far ein hundret yor
You will live very long, dos is for sure!”
When Zaidy grew up and was ready to marry,
He thought of those challos that he used to carry.
He said, “I will only take for a kalla -
A girl who, like Bubbe, knows how to bake challahh!
But Zaidy still brings Bubbe’s freshly baked challey.
Each Erev Shabbos he takes great pride,
And brings us those warm challos from the East Side
And he says, “Es mein challos, please eat my challos,
Then when your finished, just sing Shir Hamaalos
If I bring you challos far ein hundert yor,
We will both live long, and that’s for sure!”
Then after shul, he’d take off his tallis,
First he’d say kiddush, then slice the challos.
We each ate five pieces, and when we were done,
He told us these challos are just like the mon.
The mon had a cover, just like these challos,
And it was white like a new Shabbos tallis.
The Yiddin ate mon for just fertzik yor,
But we’ll eat our challos a hundred or more.