OII #14- Thinking of Others

I was at the Kotel recently, and two wonderful things happened to me- making me realize yet again how special the people of Israel are.

First, I was with NBD. For all those who know the Kotel, the only way to get down from the Rova to the Kotel is by the giant stairs (or one could take the outside road, but I was with a guest who wanted the stair view). With a stroller, that feat is nearly impossible.

I started to bump down the stairs, NBD securely strapped in, when a young man stopped. "Can I help you?", he asked in Hebrew. I at first said no, not wanting to bother anyone, but he insisted in such eloquent terms. He just picked up my stroller, with NBD inside, and hurried down the steps as if he was carrying a feather.

I kept thanking him the whole way down, and his answer?
"B'Simcha Gedola (with great happiness)." He has a family of his own and he does this for his own children- so he's used to it! Wow. Such a good deed.

I then went down to the Kotel, and noticed a woman, dressed in heavy clothing, walking around with a water bottle and cups. She stopped by groups of people and offered them a drink. In return, they said a loud and clear Shehakol Ne'heyah B'dvaro. She was offering water to the entire Kotel.

She offered a cold cup to me, and I accepted, responding with the bracha. I then asked her, "What made you think to do something like this- it's such a big Mitzva!" She replied that she was once thirsty at the Kotel, and no one was there to offer her a cold drink. So she decided to take it upon herself to offer this to others.

Mi K'Amcha Yisroel! Who is like Your nation, O' Israel!

OII #13- Yet Another Traffic Jam

Somehow, whenever I'm sitting in traffic, something interesting seems to happen to me.
I was with Mr. NMF and NBD was in my arms, slowly falling asleep (since it was late at night), when our taxi driver turned on the radio.

I asked him if he would mind turning it off, since NBD was trying to sleep, and he obliged. But, he remarked that he was going to fall asleep himself since it was basically bumper to bumper traffic. He told us that he would tell us his story instead. Whenever anyone has a story- I'm up for listening, but this one totally blew my mind.

It seems that David, who was our taxi driver, was the first soldier in 1967 to reach the Kotel during the 6 Days War. That statement alone was shocking enough, and I wasn't sure whether or not to believe it. But he corroborated his statement by telling me the story, and telling me I could look it up on the Internet if I wanted to.

He was part of the paratrooper unit who, as entering into the Old City, was returning sniper fire. He and his friends fought valiantly, and finally reached Lions' Gate, where the entrance was. He then finally reached the Kotel, but of his unit, 24 men died fighting. The Arabs had erected a wall between the Kotel and their houses, in order to prevent the Jewish people from ever seeing the Kotel. After all, from 1948, when the State of Israel was established, till 1967, no one had seen the Kotel except for older men who had seen it in much earlier times.

He wasn't sure what he was seeing- after all, he wasn't sure if it even was the Kotel or not.
But he remembered something. When he was a young boy growing up, he went to an irreligious school. On the page of the textbook he used was a section about Torah. And there were three pictures- the Kotel, the Maarat HaMachpela (Cave of the Patriarchs), and Kever Rachel.
David saw the picture of the Kotel in his eye, and he knew it had to be it.

He inched forward, and noticed that the sniper had stopped shooting. He wedged himself between the wall and the Kotel, and (in his own words)- felt the Shechina (Divine Presence) there. He was so shocked, so overcome with emotion, that his friend, who came after him, thought he was dead; that the sniper had gotten him. His friend checked him for blood- and only then did David come out of his reverie.

Yitzchak Rabin came, as well as Moshe Dayan, and the first civilian there was Rabbi Shlomo Goren, who, since he was a civilian, the snipers didn't shoot him. David and his soldier friends all went to cover the Rabbi, who took out a walkie-talkie and said those famous words, "Har HaBayis b'Yadeinu, HaKotel b'Yadeinu!" (The Temple Mount is in our hands, the Kotel is in our hands.) Rabbi Goren then blew the shofar.

David finished his story, which he said all in broken English, by the way, with interspersed Hebrew for greater translation, and Mr. NMF and I were in shock. Such an amazing story, and from such a unique person.

Just then, the traffic started to move- and David laughed and said that there was far too much traffic here. I responded, "Well, that's why there was traffic. So you could tell us your story." He laughed, and answered, "Yes, that's true. But I was just a soldier- I was just doing my job."

Only in Israel, would a taxi driver be one of the phenomenal heroes of our time.

A Listening Ear

Sporadic Intelligence recently posted on visiting Kever Rochel, and she made a really good point.
Although, I'm going to approach it from a slightly different angle.

I used to visit Kever Rochel every Sunday in the afternoon, rain or shine.
I've been there since the time when it looked like the representative picture, when it was surrounded by an Arab village, and you had to ask a grocery shop owner for permission to visit the kever (gravesite).
I've been there now, as it evolved into something resembling a security compound, with those white, ominous concrete slabs surrounding it on all sides. The tomb itself is covered in camouflage netting, soldiers' lookout stations, and an Israeli flag.

I've gone on days when it has been so crowded that in order to get on and off a bus, one had better be prepared to get shoved from all angles. I've been there on her yartzheit, when candles are lit on every side of the ancient structure. I've been there on days when the only people there are me and two or three other Yerushalmi ladies, all sitting and saying Tehillim next to the paroches (curtain) made from Nava Applebaum's, A"H, wedding dress.

Somehow, it's different to me than when visiting other holy sites, like the Kotel HaMaaravi, the Western Wall. Somehow, I feel that through her zechus, my tefillos might actually make it up there. I've gone there to daven for numerous things, for friends, for family, for myself.

And each time, I come back feeling like I've been heard by Hashem. I don't know if I have the merits to reach so high, but maybe if I rely on the fact that I'm Jewish, and that I am a descendant of Mama Rochel, maybe I can get heard. It's new each time to me, unlike some places, where although I feel the Kedusha, it can wane after a while, and just become 'another' place.

So yes, I have a connection to Kever Rochel. Some feel that same feeling when they visit the Kotel, or when they head to other kevarim, or when they head to a grandparent or family member's gravesite. But I know that Mama Rochel does intercede for her children up there by the Heavenly Throne. And sometimes, we all need an advocate.

Bar Mitzvah

Today, I headed down to the Kotel- figured some heartfelt tefillos were in order.

As I passed through the security gate, there were tons of people there, singing and laughing.
Some video cameras were standing around, with several of the women wearing matching silver and white head scarves, and the men wearing white kippot.

I headed toward the Kotel, and watched as hundreds of people gathered on all sides of the mechitza, cheering, smiling, and snapping pictures.
When I questioned one of the video guys, he said that they were filming a bar mitzvah at the Kotel.

Quite a large bar mitzvah if you ask me. There were people on every available space, staring into the men's section. I curled up in the warm side room by the edge of the Kotel, since the gusts of bitter wind were threatening to topple me over otherwise.

So, I started thinking. In the US, my neighbor made a very extravagant bar mitzvah. She took over our entire shul's hall (quite large, we've had weddings there.), decorated to the hilt, and invited dozens of people. She also had a gathering during the week, and an improptu one for the family.
In Israel, my neighbor is planning a bar mitzvah for the summer. She has to do a party by shul on Shabbos, one during the week when he actually is bar mitzvah, one for the school, and one private get together for the family as well.

Wow. That's a lot of celebration for a bar mitzvah! I would think that some of these would be less expensive or extravagant than weddings, but it doesn't work out like that. At least for a wedding it's just one event, on one day (Okay, we'll count the vort also.) . These have several events for several days. (At least as far as I know, Sheva Brachos is made by several different families, not the hosts.)

So what does the blogging world think about Bar Mitzvahs? Should they be large, in the middle- should we fly everyone to Israel, or should we cut down on some of the multitudes of parties?
It's a good question to think about.

Poll on Israel- #1

Gut Voch everyone- Shavua Tov!

Alright, I've had a poll sitting on the bottom of my blog for a while that needed its own post.

What's your favorite thing to do in Yerushalayim (Jerusalem)?

Interesting results no? Although only 8 people voted- most decided that the favorite thing to do in Yerushalayim was visit the Kotel, also known as the Western or Wailing Wall. I do admit that that is a major attraction in Yerushalayim. Who can resist the pull of those ancient stones, worn by hands praying for every possible thing in life.

When the Kotel was liberated- that was where people flocked to, a remnant of the Bais HaMikdosh in all its glory. Of course, as many know, the Kotel was actually only one of the outer walls of the Bais HaMikdash, and there are three more, still in existance. But, the Kotel has been the place where everyone continues to flock in droves.

Placing your hands on the stones- I feel a connection to eternity, connection to Hashem and His Torah, His Temple, and His Shechina. I can't explain it, but it happens to me everytime I go.

For those who want some knowledge of that feeling- try Eli Nathan's Destiny 4, the song 'Smile for the Camera'. It's a cute kind of song, but it does have meaning.
It gives some of the myriad feelings that you could have visiting the Wall.

Kotel Adventures- OII #2

So, I went to the Kotel yesterday- as written about in an earlier post.
I went there, because I haven't gone in a while- and I have wanted to go.
But also because I needed to get something done in the Old City.

I've had a bracelet, made of silver, and etched with the 7 gates of Yerushalayim on it, for about the last 5 years. I never take it off- wear it to shower, sleep, swim...

It kept me thinking about the Holy City while I was in America, and here it keeps me thinking about how lucky I am to be here! So many Tzaddikim (righteous people) (the Gra- the Vilna Gaon for example) never made it here- and here I am- how am I worthy?

But, to make a long story a bit shorter, after five years, I bent it a bit too far, and it started to crack, along the engraving. Needless to say, I was quite saddened.

So, I decided to go where I got it from and see if it could be fixed.
I headed off to the Old City after my visit to the Kotel, and headed to a small shop next to the Cardo. The more famous shop is Hadera? (sp.), which is where all the seminary girls go to get

their trinkets.
I headed to a small shop owned by two silversmiths, a father and daughter- with the last name Ben-Yekusiel. They use their small shop as a workshop as well, and create intricate designs, in the Yemenite fashion. I met the father a long time ago- and he told me that their family has been making these items for generations. He has a daughter, so he trained her in the art as well. Their work is truly exquisite- (of course with prices to match- but well worth it)- fitting for any Shabbos table, or just as a magnificent work of art and craftsmanship.

I bought my small bracelet from them, and the daughter engraved it for me with the 7 gates, and with the pasuk "Yerushalayim Harim Saviv Lah"- "Jerusalem, hills surround her...".
So, I headed back- and it's been a long time since I've been there.

I opened the door, and the daughter was there. I told her she probably wouldn't recognize me, but she said my face was familiar. I told her how I bought my bracelet 5 years ago, and now I'm married and living here in the Aretz. I asked her if she could fix it for me- and she said it would be her pleasure.

Watching a silversmith work is a fascinating thing. If you want just to see it- head to their shop- it's amazing. She fixed the crack, re-etched the line, and buffed it to maintain the silver. Unfortunately, the patina of older silver that had happened to the bracelet, after 5 years of wearing- disappeared- but now I have it for another 5 years.

She took the time to do this in the middle of her work day, and took care in her work.
When she finished- with a bracelet as good as new- I asked her if I could pay for her work.
She refused payment. She said it was her pleasure, and she loves seeing her own work again- cherished and used. I was shocked- as she did spend time on it, and effort. She refused again, and said, if I'd like, I could donate the money I would have paid her to tzedaka.

Wow- so special. She fixes something for me that many others would say- too bad, you bought it, you used it for 5 years, now it's your problem. Then, she refuses payment. And, to top it all off- she then asks me to give the money I would have given her to tzedaka.

Only In Israel.

Stop by her shop if you're ever in the Old City. I can't say you'll be able to afford anything there- but watching her and her father at work is a wonderful experience. And you could tell her I sent you :)

Tzedaka- From the Heart

I visited the Kotel (Western Wall) yesterday- to get something else done (story for another post), and of course, before walking through the gates, I needed to check my wallet.
Why, you may ask?

Well, there are at least 20 ladies on the women's side of the Kotel who collect tzedaka there, daily. They could be collecting for themselves, for Hachnosat Kallah, for a yeshiva, for a kollel, or many other such things. I have asked them once or twice who they collect for- but usually it is a cause that I can donate a shekel to, at least, or something like that.

So, I checked my wallet- was assured that I had at least 20 shekel on me, and set out.
Immediately, they asked in their pleading voices for tzedaka. I can't refuse- it's very hard for me to refuse a woman collecting. After all, we have an inner sense of tznius, of busha, (embarassment) of not being in the limelight- if a woman has to go out collecting tzedaka- it means she's usually in dire straights, with no one to help her, and she has no male children or a husband to help either.

So, I handed out a shekel to each one- making sure no one would get more than the others (they notice who gets more or less.)

(Oh, and if you're judging me as to why I only have a shekel per person- I'm sorry- but I also need money for food and lodging...I could try to give more- but usually I can't- as I give to the people who need tzedaka in Geula as well, plus, I can only give a mashehu without asking my husband for permission for more (he usually says yes, but if he's not there....)

Usually, they thank me- and I wish them the best- that they should have hatzlacha, and kol tuv.
And, I mean it. The words come from my heart, as do the money- I want them to be able to give more to the poor, I want them to no longer need tzedaka...

But yesterday, when I gave a shekel to a woman- and wished her all the best- her reply was, "A Shekel? Zeh Lo Kesef. (that's not money.)"

So I told her that was all I had, and she left it at that.

But it hurt. It hurt that she didn't care whether I meant it or not, that all she saw was a girl, probably American, who gives her "just a shekel", and then leaves.

I'm sure she's in pain. I'm sure that she has a very rough life. I'm judging her dan l'kaf zechus that she has so many tzaros in her life that when someone hands her a small bit of tzara, she reacts like that.

I called my mother, another frequent visitor to Israel, to tell her about it- we both sighed on the phone, at the tzara, and the pity on the situation. She told me that someone once threw the shekel back at her- signifying that it was too small a donation.

I guess this is a David HaMelech moment. That when someone lectures you- it's not from that person, it's from Hashem.

Maybe Hashem is telling me I should give more. Maybe Hashem is telling me not to think so highly of myself- that I have money and she doesn't- the wheel of fortune could turn at any moment.

I wish her, and all the other women who are out there collecting- all the best. Kol Tuv, and much Hatzlacha.