Slice of Life

I don’t know what I was thinking, but I messed up. Big time. When I was choosing a career, I debated between social work, music therapy, and occupational therapy.  I wanted to work in one of the helping professions because I, ya know, wanted to help people.  I’m not trying to show off or anything. I’m just that type.  But there were so many fields I didn’t consider; some weren’t even on my radar screen.  But now it’s clear to me that I sold myself short.  I realize I should have set my sights way higher.  I should have aimed to become the President of the United States.  Yes, that’s right, the President of the good old U.S. of A. President Joe Biden’s visit to Israel last week made me realize just how badly I missed my calling.

The only words I can use to describe my neighbor Chavie Gross* is “chesed dynamo.” Besides immediately responding to every call for help, Chavie’s mind is like a radar screen, always on alert, sniffing out the needs of others and initiating acts to meet those needs through anything from making encouraging phone calls to singlehandedly organizing full-blown s’machot. Chesed is Chavie’s hobby, as she genuinely enjoys helping people. She does not expect to receive anything in return for her efforts. But years ago, Chavie took on a particular chesed in an intense way when she herself was in need. The direct connection between Chavie’s actions and the miracle she experienced was crystal clear.

In celebration of our recent anniversary, my husband and I spent a week in Norway. Norway has been in the news of late - not for the best of reasons - but I decided to put all of that out of my mind and just enjoy the trip. Since there is no direct flight from Israel to Norway, we flew through Krakow, Poland. On our flight to Krakow, there was a group of women heading to kivrei tzadikim and a group of approximately fifteen shochtim (ritual slaughterers) heading to Poland in order to do shechitah for meat imported by Israeli companies. I was not uncomfortable with the fact that our fellow passengers were traveling in order to fulfill their lofty goals, while the goal of our trip was to have fun. Okay, I did feel a bit funny. But we are very strict in our lofty goal of seeing Hashem’s beautiful world, which we did.

Dating in Israel is a far cry from the way things were back in my dating days of which I have such fond memories. (If you believe that, have I got a bridge to sell to you.) Most notably, as a girl, my dates always picked me up at home, with the exception of the unusually considerate guy who met me in Manhattan and sent me home by train all by myself at midnight. I can’t say I felt unsafe, though. I believe that the smoke that was emanating from my ears during the entire ride encouraged most people to keep their distance from me. If you (the unusually considerate guy) happen to be reading this article, you should just know that I participate in a weekly musar class and I’m currently hard at work trying to improve my midah of forgiveness. I haven’t reached the point of forgiving you just yet, but I’m getting very close.

When we received the invitation to a family engagement party in Zichron Yaakov, I was thrilled despite the distant location. The picturesque town, located 35 kilometers south of Haifa, at the southern end of the Carmel Mountain range, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, is one of my favorite destinations here in Israel. It was one of the pioneer Jewish agricultural settlements of the First Aliyah. The town was founded in 1882 by immigrants from Romania. In 1883, Baron Edmond James de Rothschild became the patron of the settlement and renamed it after his father Yaakov. Many just call the town “Zichron,” which ironically causes the name of the person meant to be memorialized not to be remembered.

Gary and Lisa were a young married couple living happily in South Africa back in the mid-1990s.  They both worked in the field of corporate clothing, with Gary managing the operations and Lisa handling the design.  They were not what one would call religious, but they were traditional. They would always eat a family meal together on Friday night.  They would light candles, eat challah along with their meal, and then head out to the movies and parties.  Lisa’s sister had become religious overnight when she married a religious boy.  At the time, Lisa actually felt sorry for her sister, who was suddenly bound by a myriad of restrictions, which included not being allowed to talk on the phone or watch TV on Saturdays.  Gary and Lisa did not want to be limited in that way.