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"When the Rebbe took the gartel to dance with me, I couldn't raise my eyes. I felt the strength of his prayer like a strong gentle wave washing over me. He had blessed me like a father before the chuppah, and now he was blessing me again. The Rebbe had only known me for one month, but I felt his love for me, and the love he had for my husband who had virtually lived in his house and was like a son to him. My father who was already in the Next World would not take his turn in the mitzvah dance, but the Rebbe was ready to stand in for my father as he danced with one end of the gartel before handing it over to my husband.
What were we doing in that dance, surrounding ourselves in love. What is love? What is connection? What is dance? What is prayer? The mitzvah tantz was an answer that spoke without words. It moved without hardly moving. It soared with the gentle tapping of our feet. It spoke of the flight of souls, the bird soaring and then flying low, the earth and the Heavens. It was a dance of one, and not of two. It was a dance of One."
By Varda Branfman
from the April Passover 2005 Edition of the Jewish Magazine
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