Each human being is as unique as a carefully crafted snowflake, as breakable and fragile as a tiny shard of frosty rococo.

Shabbat remains as faithful and unmoving as stone.

Those drawn to Shabbat come in gusts and flurries, soon to be gathered and tightly packed.

The sky darkens. The snow deepens, swirling and eddying upon a frozen mountaintop.

Uniqueness piles upon uniqueness, pressing together, unifying beneath a thick, churning storm.

Snow falls week after week.

If enough snowflakes gather, the mountaintop will hum and vibrate—

And all the collected drifts will surge together into the valley below.

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