There would be so much to write about Rachel Imeinu. She led a life of sacrifices, she knew how to find the truth, she embodied the power of prayer. How many times did she nullify herself for others? If we would have to summarize this incredible figure in one single sentence, it would probably be the following: Rachel, the embodiment of a Jewish mother. Rachel is without a doubt the matriarch to whom we feel the closest to. Her gravestone is a welcoming place for all: old and young, orthodox or secular. We go there to cry, to pray, to thank and to talk. We feel serene and soother, just like we arrived home. Each time I reach her tomb, I find myself looking at these women with gaunt faces who do not have the strength to move themselves, but who shed tears without number on Rachel’s tomb, and who scream an endless list of names and blessings with a strength I didn’t think they had. I stare at these young and fragile girls, their faces plunked in their prayer books, and who utter jerked words to the extent that their entire bodies are shaking. I could spend many hours without uttering a word, I let myself being carried by this holiness. We have the impression we are listened to, heard, and we carry the hope that soon our prayers will be answered.

Rachel Imeinu was Laban's daughter. She grew up in a house of deception and fraud. Despite this situation, she maintained her purity and aims for a Torah lifestyle by the side of Ya’akov Avinu. Imagine her relief at the eve of her wedding day. She felt that this life of spiritual suffering will finally come to an end, and then, her father Laban put together a new scam: Lea, Rachel’s oldest sister, took her place under the Chuppah.

This was without knowing that Ya’akov had expected this scam by giving signs to Rachel to make sure he would marry the right person. Rachel then imagined Lea’s humiliation when Ya’akov would approach his future wife, entirely covered, by asking her secret questions. It was out of the question to let her sister Lea undergo such a great humiliation; she thus decided to reveal her the signs and then bestowed upon her the life she had already dreamed of, without knowing what would the future held for her.

Rachel Imeinu then succeeded to get her husband back thanks to a second marriage. Two children were born from this union, Yosef and Binyamin.

Rachel died while giving birth to Binyamin. Upon her request, she was buried on the road to Beit Lechem. She gave up one last time her honor and her eternal rest next to all the patriarchs and matriarchs in the cave of Machpelah.

She wanted to be buried on the way, to be close to her children. She wanted to be there for them. She wanted to continue living through her children. Don’t we have here the perfect embodiment of a Jewish mother?

A woman becomes a mother when she gives birth to her first child, and since then, her entire self is a mother, she thinks like a mother, lives like a mother and breathes like a mother. This status never comes to an end, a mother never retires. Nothing is more precious in her eyes than her child’s well-being. She cannot be at ease if she knows that even one of her offsprings is unsafe or unhappy. A mother doesn’t always have the solution for her children’s sorrows, but she is always here to hold their hand, dry up their tears or heal their wounds. We know she’s not going anywhere, she will cry with her child when he’ll be hurt and sincerely promise him that very soon, they’ll laugh together. She is always here. She is our support and landmark. A Jewish mother does not live this life like a succession of sacrifices, but rather as an opportunity to fulfill her potential, to live and to build.

Rest does not exist for a Jewish woman. Thank you Mommy Rachel for giving us this incredible status that we carry with pride.