You Make Me Better

When she first began her shiur, I winced at her initial point. It wasn't terrible, just I didn't agree with it. 

But an hour later, I was floating. 

Has one ever been in the presence of sheer goodness? Someone who radiates an aura of genuineness? Simply hearing her speak made me defy gravity. 

She wasn't a well-known name, nor a rebbetzin, nor a personality; she was a mother in her 30s, who is truly spiritual and seeking a close relationship with Hashem. She wan't posing, or purring, or stroking her own ego; she had nothing to prove. She simply is. 

She cried when telling over Aharon HaKohen's death, that he lived to see his own son take over from him, while Moshe did not. She spoke of yearning for her children to grow up to be spiritually successful. She gave suggestions how when one is having a busy day, one should pray, in one's own words, on the format of Shmoneh Esrei, praise, request, and thanks, a practical suggestion for a busy mother. 

I left that shiur infused with light; swollen with a desire to be better.

Not because someone told over a miforash that blew my mind, or shamed me into scorning my mediocre self. Because she herself strove with the noblest, purest, and selfless of motivations.