For the second year in a row, a dear friend has taken me on a whirlwind trip to the former Soviet Union.
We have been visiting the burial sites of great Rebbes, spiritual masters, who are beacons of light to this day. We've also had occasion to visit several cities, and witness the resurrection of Jewish communities which Stalin and his heirs had pledged to obliterate.
I write this from Odessa, where the local Chabad Rabbi tells me of the KGB files he has been able to salvage for posterity. The government's records testify as to the brutality and murder that the Communist regime inflicted upon countless Jews - some from families whom I personally know.
Their crime? Practicing and teaching their religion.
I've been to this part of the world many times over the past twenty-two years; the stories aren't new to me. But they seem to push different internal buttons each time I hear them.
Sometimes I'm struck with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for USA, the country of freedom in which I live.
Today, I'm feeling awed by the commitment and self-sacrifice of the generations who came before me.
In the Soviet Union, millions of people lived their lives under intense scrutiny. They were warned not to keep their faith; and they were severely punished when they did.
But these heroes stuck to their values. They redoubled their commitment to their heritage. They never wavered.
They stood for something.
Many of these people have since passed on. Their bodies have been buried; but their spirits live on.
Decades later, they are stilll honored by people who never knew them or experienced their travails.
The principled life has a resounding echo.
Rabbi Mendy Herson