Only in Israel

A night full of booms and missile interceptions. Missiles and drones directly from Iran. For the first time in our history. Over 300 missiles and drones. 2:40 am - I wake up from the siren. I have no where to hide. I cover my face with my blanket and pray. A lot of noise for a long time. I get up to check the news online. A warm message from a colleague abroad. "The whole world is praying for you. We stand with you". How it warms the heart. If people knew how it helps, they would have written more. Back to bed. Falling asleep unperturbed. How strange. Feeling safe. How not-strange! God has been showing us incredible miracles, so we feel safe. We already expect His miracles and if they do not happen, it is strange. Dreaming that I'm going with an Israeli bus to Gaza, to visit the hostages. It is like a school trip. Everyone is so noisy and "sticky" with each other, and I feel so out of place, I need more depth, more substance. The terrorists in the dream try to show how nice they are. They bring us food - lots of round Yemenite-style pita breads and meat balls with yellow rice. I'm thinking it is not kosher. I won't eat. I am so out of place. We're leaving. One of us decides to stay there and hides away. Crazy. What if one of the hostages came back with us? The others would suffer. We're leaving. I wake up. In the morning, there is no evidence of the drama of the night. Life is back to normal. Crazy. Only in Israel. 

On the radio now, עוד דקה את נעלמת / זוהר ארגוב. 

Waiting... and Purim

Wednesday last week I learned a lesson, one that I had already known, but it was a good reminder. I was waiting for a bus, in a bus stop that had many buses going to where I wanted to go. Normally, it takes about 5 minutes for a bus to arrive there, but this time - none came, and for a long time. I was about to lose my patience, but reminded myself that EVERYTHING is under Hashem's watchful eye, it is all His doing. When the bus came, I then had to get off at another bus stop and wait for another bus. This time, too, I was waiting and waiting, but the bus didn't come. I started wondering, what was the lesson, what was the message, what was the purpose of this waiting, but then again reminded myself that there was a divine reason for everything. And then, as I was still waiting (it was near Hadassah Mt. Scopus hospital), I suddenly heard shouting: "Open it! Open it! She's giving birth!!!!". It was a young religious (dati-leumi) man in an old car. He stopped his car right in front of the electric barrier at the entrance to the hospital and shouted to the guard to open the barrier, because his wife was giving birth at that moment... The guard opened the barrier. The car drove to the area just in front of the entrance to the delivery unit of the hospital. The young man rushed out of the car and summoned the nurses. A whole entourage of nurses and doctors came out, then some went in again, brought out a hospital bed and a tiny carrier for the baby. They opened the back doors of the car and stood there for a few minutes, bending down, their heads inside the car. My bus came, but needless to say, I skipped it. I didn't want to miss this incredible show that was taking place in front of my eyes. It was the first time ever that I was witness to something like this, to a baby being born to the world - and in a car!! After 5 or 10 minutes the tiny carrier was taken into the hospital and a few minutes later, they helped the young mother out and put her on the hospital bed, which was also shuffled into the hospital. The whole time I tried to conceal myself, so they won't feel that their privacy was intruded. Silently, I cried of excitement. It was such an incredible sight to see! I thanked God for bringing this life into the world and for allowing me to witness it. And then I realized why I had to wait for so long in both bus stops. If not for those lengthy delays, I would have missed this incredible experience! Even now I have tears in my eyes as I recall this. Baruch Hashem. 

I was tested with the same test today. Today was Shushan Purim (Purim in Jerusalem). I finished performing some of the commandments of Purim in the commercial center of Paran st., which is the main street in my neighborhood, and was waiting at a bus stop to take me to a nearby neighborhood (FH) to the Ashkenazi synagogue that was open the whole day. I just felt like I wanted some alone time with Hashem, and not in my apartment, but in a place of worship, and it was perfect. There were only 2-3 people there at the time I was there, and the women's section was empty. Perfect. I prayed there, read a booklet by the Ramchal (Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzato) about trust and faith in God and even... fell asleep for a while. It was so peaceful and I felt recharged. The only thing I was missing was a hot cup of herbal tea, but since I'm not a regular goer of that shul and no body knows me there, I didn't feel comfortable going down and asking for one... 

Anyway, back to the bus stop in which I had been waiting to take me to that neighborhood and to that specific shul. As I was approaching the bus stop, my bus passed and went away. I missed it. I started waiting, having no clue that it was going to take a loooong time, much much longer than the normal 7-8 minutes on average that I normally wait. I think it was around 40 minutes or more and there was no digital board there to tell me when the bus was coming. And again, I was wondering... why the wait? And again reminded myself that everything that happens is for a divine reason. And then, slowly and gradually, I got the answers:

1) As I was waiting, I was witness to an incredible flow of people walking on that central street, dressed up in funny costumes of Purim. Many of them adults, some children. It was so funny, and it brought joy to my heart. I told myself - see? God wants you to enjoy this, to have the festive atmosphere of Purim. Not many streets offer such a parade of dressed up adults, this is one of the few, and I had a good time watching and enjoying it. Purim.

2) One of the commandments of Purim is to give food gifts to poor people. However, there are not that many poor people around nowadays, Baruch Hashem... I was looking for one specific beggar who normally stands on that street on Friday mornings, but she wasn't there. So I gave some charity money to Chabad, just to fulfill the Mitzvah (commandment), so that they would give it to the needy. But I felt disappointment for not giving actual food gifts to a poor person. As I was waiting at the bus stop, maybe 15 minutes later, a poor man, a beggar, who is a drug addict, came to the bus stop with his hand stretched out. I told him that I wouldn't give him money (I didn't want him to use if for drugs), but was there anything I could get him to eat? He thought for a moment, and then asked for a croissant. I asked him what type and he said Chocolate croissant. So I went back to the commercial center. Most shops were closed, because it was Purim, but gladly, one that sells croissants and other pastries was open. I bought him a big chocolate croissant and was so happy - I fulfilled the Mitzvah of giving food to the poor. Even though it wasn't essential food and even though he wasn't a classical poor, still... It was another reason why it was worth waiting so long at the bus stop, to be able to do that! 

3) And after the episode with the poor person, I still waited... and the bus was not coming, and I wondered - what is it, what else? OK, I've enjoyed the Purim costumes and the joyful atmosphere and even got the merit to give food to a poor person, but now what Why is the bus not coming and I'm still waiting? And then, as I was looking around, my gaze suddenly focused on something small on the sidewalk. A green Rav-Kav bus card... somebody lost it and I could return it to them, perhaps. But wait a minute, could it be mine? I fumbled in my pocket, and realized mine was no longer there... I bent down to pick the card - and sure enough, it was mine... Had the bus arrived even one moment earlier, I would have boarded it, only to realize too late that my pay card was gone, then i'd have had to go back to the bus stop, and wait again, and who knows if I would have found my card, it was so hard to see...! It was worth the wait just to have my pay card back and avoid the dismay at finding out too late that I had lost it somewhere... Thank you, Hashem! A couple of minutes later, the bus arrived. 

On the bus, there was a young couple with a baby, and the wife was sour-faced, annoyed and impatient, and I felt sorry for her husband. I don't know how, but we started talking, and I think that some of the things I told her helped. When she got off the bus, she greeted me with a warm smile. It was nice. 

And then I arrived into that synagogue and enjoyed some quiet, peaceful, personal time with Hashem. What a blessing! 

As I'm thinking of this, I know it sounds incredible, but I also know that things much more incredible than this happen to all people all the time, but - most people don't see the divine fingerprints in it, they don't see the pattern. Someone else would have experienced this story completely differently, being annoyed at the bus company for not sending out more buses, at the bus driver for being so extremely late, at themselves for almost losing their pay card, at the beggar who bothered them, at the sour faced lady in the bus, etc. They would have seen nothing of how Hashem weaved this for them with graceful love. And so they normally miss the divine magic in their lives. They don't see God's loving grace.  

One last thought - as I was going back to my neighborhood after the synagogue, I saw the sun in the sky, shining through the clouds and producing what someone once termed "Rembrandt's light rays". It was so soothing for my soul. I then thought that it may be a symbol of God shining His love on us, but it may also be a different symbol. One can make an effort and imagine that the rays of light come from the earth and pierce the heavens (as happens in lightnings - we think that the lightning we see is top-down, but really most of it is bottom up). I thought that this was what our prayers do - they shine bottom up and reach the skies, and that if someone holds onto prayer and hope so fiercely, then surely, sooner or later, their prayer will pierce the heavens. It has much bigger chances of being accepted. 

That's it. I'm waiting for shabbat, another secluded time to be with God and bask in His light and love. My favorite time of the week by far. 

I don't write often, and perhaps I should write more, but even when I don't, I'm still here... and now with my cup of herbal tea, and mandoline music playing on YouTube from my PC. Why mandoline? I have no idea. I have had some cravings to hear this kind of music recently. 

פרשת תצוה

כשאני לא כותבת פה, אתם יכולים לעקוב אחריי בעמודי הפייסבוק המוקדשים ליהדות. פעם פרסמתי פה את הקישור. יש עכשיו עמודים כאלה גם באיטלקית ובצרפתית, חוץ מאנגלית ויפנית.

את דבר-התורה הזה אני מפרסמת בקבוצות וואטסאפ שונות. שבוע טוב...

 פרשת תצווה היא הפרשה היחידה בתורה שבה אינו מופיע שמו של משה רבנו מאז הופעתו על במת ההיסטוריה. חז"ל אומרים, כי חסרון שמו של מושיען של ישראל בפרשה זו הגיע בעקבות דרישתו מהקב"ה לסלוח לעם ישראל לאחר חטא העגל: "וְעַתָּה, אִם-תִּשָּׂא חַטָּאתָם; וְאִם-אַיִן, מְחֵנִי נָא, מִסִּפְרְךָ אֲשֶׁר כָּתָבְתָּ". חכמינו מציינים זאת כדוגמה לכוחו העצום של הדיבור האנושי, ולכוחה של מילה – שברגע שנאמרה, גם אם רק על תנאי (שבסוף לא התקיים) - מותירה חותם בעולם. הקב"ה אכן סלח לעם ישראל, אך מילותיו של משה, "מחני נא מספרך...", עדיין מהדהדות אלפי שנים לאחר מכן ומוצאות את ביטויין גם בפרשה זו. 

בגמרא מופיע הביטוי "ברית כרותה לשפתיים" – שמשמעו, שמרגע שמילה יוצאת מן הפה, היא משפיעה על המציאות, ולכן חז"ל מצדדים בנו להימנע מדיבור שלילי, כדי לא ליצור מציאות שלילית. הרב קוק כותב בספרו "אגרות הקודש" (פרק ל"ח), שככל שהאדם דבק בקב"ה ומקיים את מצוותיו באהבה ובשמחה, כך הוא מזדכך יותר, וכך למילה שלו יש יותר משקל, והרושם שהיא יוצרת במציאות גדול יותר, "וְתִגְזַר-אֹמֶר, וְיָקָם לָךְ" (איוב כ"ב, כ"ח), או בפירוש חז"ל על פסוק זה, "צדיק גוזר, והקב"ה מקיים". 

ישנו סיפור ידוע על בית העלמין סגולה, שהיה הראשון בפתח תקווה (הוקם בשנת תרמ"ט, 1888). כשהוקם, התלוצצו אנשי המושבה אלה עם אלה ותהו בקול, "נו, מי יהיה הראשון בבית הקברות הזה?". אחד מן הנוכחים אמר בצחוק, "לא הייתי מתנגד". כעבור עשרה ימים הוא נפטר. על מצבתו נכתב דבר המעשה, כדי להעביר לציבור את המסר אודות כוחו של דיבור: "הנפטר הראשון בבית הקברות הזה... הישיש ר' ניסן ליב בן חיים גמזו ז"ל... התבטא עשרה ימים לפני פטירתו, בהיותו בריא ושלם, ואמר שהוא לא היה מתנגד להיות הראשון בבית הקברות הזה, ונפטר לבית עולמו ביום י"ט בתשרי תרמ"ט". מצמרר. 

אותו העקרון עובד גם להיפך: כל תפילותינו במשך אלפיים שנות גלות לשוב לארצנו ולירושלים, נושאות פרי ואנו רואים את תוצאותיהן היום במציאות. ארצנו השוממה הפכה לגן פורח וקולטת עולים חדשים למדינתנו הריבונית שנות דור לאחר שהתחלנו להתפלל על כך. 

שנזכה לבחור את מילותינו בקפידה, לנצור לשוננו מרע, ולהרבות טוב בעולם הן במעשה והן בדיבור. 

In the south

I haven't written in a long time. 

A few weeks ago I went again to the south, this time to another moshav, to volunteer in agriculture. I was picking oranges, which is much easier than cutting celery. I worked for many hours, following which I also worked in a food and rest station for our soldiers. It was fun and meaningful. The next day I was refreshed and up on my feet, not spent and exhausted like I was after picking celery. 

I'm learning. Even though I grew up in that region of the country and was surrounded by citrus fruit orchards, I realized that working in oranges is not like growing up near them :-) I don't know if you know (I didn't), but citrus trees are actually thorny! They have thorns and if you are not careful, you get cut. 

I joined some other volunteers. I was given gloves, but discarded them, because it was a warm day and it was getting hot. I had long sleeves but lifted them, because it was getting hot. We were spontaneously divided into small groups of 3 to 4 people, and each group worked on a different tree. When we finished it, we moved on to another tree and so on. After picking oranges from the outside surface of the tree, we started picking them from the inside branches. I did it for 8 hours, while most other volunteers did it for 2-3 hours and left. When we finished, I realized I was very hungry... and I realized that my hands and arms were cut all over. I have these cut marks even now, and I know they will stay for a long time, months or even years... At a certain point, I felt that I was cut by a small thorny branch in my face (in my forehead). I didn't have water to wash it and my hands were full of dirt, so I prayed to God that it won't leave a mark on my skin. When I returned home, the next day I checked in the mirror and didn't see not even a faintest trace of that cut!! I wish I had prayed the same for my hands and arms... :-)

But I don't care about it too much. I know it will go away at a certain point. 

Throughout that time we were hearing explosions - the IDF bombing in Gaza. I hope our hostages will be released soon by the IDF and that all IDF soldiers will be safe and return to their families victorious. 

I ate some oranges when I realized I was hungry, but it didn't satisfy me. When I reached the nearby food and rest station for soldiers, I ate to my heart's satisfaction and then started making sandwiches for our soldiers, and washing a lot of dishes, including huge pots and pans. It was fun. 

Around 7 pm (I started the day at 9 am), I felt it was enough. I asked the farmer to take me to Netivot, the nearby town, so that I could catch a bus to Jerusalem, but he told me that there were two American volunteers who were traveling to Jerusalem soon. He said he would ask them if they could take me. I asked him not to do that, I didn't feel any affinity to these girls and didn't want to impose on them. But he asked them anyway and they said yes, they will take me with them to Jeursalem. It turned out it was an amazing blessing - for them, and for me as well, perhaps. 

First, because they stayed there a bit longer, I had to stay there and wait for them. As I did, someone made a bonfire in the rest and food station and I was playing my recorder. People were so happy with it and it brought people together. It led to some nice conversations and warmed the hearts a bit. A German volunteer was so excited by the music and encouraged me to play more and more. He was really happy.

Then, when it was time for us to really leave, the American girls and I were a bit more acquainted with each other and less estranged from each other. We were leaving the moshav and the food and rest station. As we did, I soon recognized to our right hand side a kibbutz that I have known from my childhood, a religious kibbutz to which the terrorists tried to enter but failed. I mentioned it to the girls and they exclaimed: "Yes! It is the famous kibbutz! We've seen lots of WhatsApp videos about what happened there! We recognize the gate!!". And they asked if we could go in. We stopped next to the gate. A watchman went out to us and asked us who we were and what we wanted. He was an older American man. They told him the whole story and he said that we should get in and talk with the young shomrim (watchmen), because they were involved in the battle. 

We excitedly went in. The two young watchmen eagerly spoke to us, telling us all the details of what had happened in the kibbutz on October 7th and how miraculously no one was hurt while all the terrorists were killed. They showed us a close-up picture of a dead terrorist. I couldn't watch, but the two American girls said: "We're nurses, we can watch it, no worries!" and they did. I caught a fleeting glimpse of that picture and I feel like throwing up still when I think about it. Seeing a human being dead, even if he was a brutal terrorist, is difficult. 

Anyway, then another friend of them went to a nearby moshav to buy Cholent, a traditional Jewish food eaten on Shabbat. Except that it was a Thursday. But we have this custom that on Thursday night, many places serve cholent. It is fun. He asked us if we wanted to have any. We all said unanimously, YES!! When he returned with the cholent, he served us a hot, tasty dish. It was amazing! 

They then told us the whole story and the girls recorded it while I was translating from Hebrew to English for them in the background (the shomrim didn't speak enough English to do it in English). They then asked us if we wanted to "pray in a synagogue that was hit by a missile". We said yes... Just as we were about to go there, I saw a round light in the sky. Growing up in that region, I was used to seeing "light bombs" that the IDF used for lighting the area. I thought it was an innocent light bomb. But it was moving horizontally, not vertically... and it was coming at us, with a slight angle away from us. I asked the shomrim innocently, "What is it?". They looked up and screamed, "Get into the shelter, it is a rocket!!!" Gladly, the shelter was just a few feet away. As we were running, the red alert alarm sounded "Tzeva Adom, Tzeva Adom". It sounded only after we saw the missile. A couple of seconds later, when we were in the shelter with our cholent in hand, there was a huge explosion. They said it didn't fall in the kibbutz. I don't know how they knew, but they were right. It fell outside of the kibbutz. We were laughing hard in the shelter. It is such a strange situation... I've never seen a missile flying my way, and so near! It wasn't that high up in the sky. The shomrim took a picture of the three of us in the shelter with cholent plates in our hands... I'll find the picture and post it here. You won't see me, because I was hiding behind one of the nurses, but you'll get the feeling. 

A couple of minutes later, we left the shelter and went with the shomrim to the synagogue. It is not the formal synagogue of the kibbutz but one that is used for youth movement activities. A miracle story surrounding it is that just a few moments before the missile landed there, a 70 year old lady wanted to get into it to take cover, as the red alert sounded. She changed her mind, for some reason, and then the missile hit the place. She was saved. 

We finally left the kibbutz, so excited from all of these experiences, and drove to the Baba Sali's grave in Netivot. I don't like visiting graves, but they wanted to go there, so we did. It was good, because I had a package of many Shabbat pamphlets and didn't know where to distribute it. So when we got to the grave, there were many people and I distributed it there. 

Finally, when we were approaching Jerusalem, WAZE (an online GPS system) directed the girls to enter Jerusalem from such a weired place. I wondered why. It prolonged our trip. But later I realized why. In the extra time it took us to drive, the girls changed their minds about going straight to where they were staying (in the Jewish Quarter) and instead decided to take me home first. God made WAZE give them some extra time after entering Jerusalem, so that they could think and change their minds. I didn't ask them to take me home, and when they offered, I objected, but they did it anyway, which was a blessing, because at that point it was already very late at night and I was very sleepy. I fell asleep in the car when we left Netivot.

I felt throughout that adventure that God's hand was in everything that happened. If not for me driving with them, they would have never noticed that religious kibbutz. Everything was orchestrated so that they would have a once in a life time experience in Israel and I also served as an interpreter between them and the shomrim. It is important because these girls do not live here. They live in America, and only came here for a week to volunteer in different places around the country. 

BTW, if we're already talking about volunteering, in the orchard I met a family from Romania. They are not Jewish and they did not speak any Hebrew. I asked them why they came now of all times. They said that a friend in need is a friend in deed and that they are friends of Israel. I asked them if it has anything to do with Genesis 12: 3. They smiled, laughed and admitted that this was it. This was the reason they came here.

Some other day in Jerusalem I saw some tourists on the street and they  looked kind of lost. I asked them if they needed any help and walked with them some of the distance to where they were heading. On the way, I asked them why they came here now of all times. They said that precisely now it is important to come, to take pictures, to post on social media and show all of their friends and community that life goes on in Israel and that it is safe for everybody to come. I was impressed. The father of the family is a pastor, so his circles of influence are wide. 

That's it, these are all the technical details of that crazy adventure we've had. The girls later sent me the pictures from that night. I'll find them and post them here some time, bli neder. 

12/2/24: Here are some of the pictures - we're in cholents in our hands, in the shelter. I'm in the back, hiding behind one of the girls:

Comfort ?

I wrote it, posted it, but then reverted it to draft. I post it again. Written Jan. 1.

I started listening to music today. I feel starved for it. I feel guilty for enjoying music while the soldiers are fighting in the battle field. But I need my music to live. I hope Hashem does not judge me for it. 

I feel so comforted by the music. 

I still fast from time to time, and still sleep on the floor (the carpet) from time to time, to sympathize with them. My desktop picture is of Shiri Bibas and her two children. I chose it so as not to forget that while my life goes on, for others it doesn't. Whenever I open my computer and see this picture I get a shock. I can't get used to it. 

I've met the family of some hostages. The family members live their lives. They eat, they sleep in their beds, they listen to music, they laugh, despite the pain. So perhaps I can too. 

I run a page with Jewish content. I get so many hateful comments from people with Muslim names. They "bless" the creator, they "bless" the Bible. It is so sad. I'm sad for them. They are completely and totally in the wrong side of history. They are full of hatred. 

Fortunately and gladly, I know some Arabs and Muslims who are not like that. Who are kind, humane, good people. But they are the silent types. It is always like this. You never hear the good ones. The bad ones make a lot of noise. Sorry for the simplistic dichotomy. 

I feel like a hypocrite. I say that I feel guilty, but I keep listening to music... what kind of guilt is it... 

Just as I was writing it, the music stopped and did not resume. As if Hashem is telling me I'm correct in feeling hypocritical... I'm starved for music. I know that some of the hostages listen to Israeli radio, so perhaps they too listen to music.

Since the Simkhat Torah massacre, I find that I look back at my own life much less often. I'm trying with all my might to put the past in the past, and to look forward. I'm trying to form an image and cling to it. But I hardly do it. It is so unnatural and so difficult sometimes to do. 

I still feel that this is going to be the beginning of something much greater (Ezekiel 38, G-d forbid). I'm not afraid, but I know we're in the middle of something unusual. 

Good night.