My grandfather's unveiling was this morning. The weather in Netanya was hot, mostly sunny, slightly breezy. Just a few degrees above what I consider comfortable, enough to leave a film of sweat on my back and make me thirsty. Not too humid, though.
We started saying Tehillim (Psalms) and about two verses into the first one, I felt a drop of water hit my shoulder. I looked around: no one was washing a nearby gravestone, no one was pouring water over her head or even drinking from a bottle. *ping* A drop hit a nearby stone. My aunt whispered to me: "What--it's raining!" And indeed it was. Even Rabbi Wolicki noticed and looked up to the sky somewhat befuddled. The rain lasted only a minute, maybe less.
I guess God was a little sad that Grandma and Grandpa had to leave us. It's hard to find good people like that to do Your work here, huh?
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