Mazda car that was driving behind him, and it seemed that it had made every effort to overtake the bus. The driver of the private car kept trying to push and overtake, he signaled at the high beams and honked his horn at the bus. "That's how it is today," sighed Tzila, another regular passenger on the bus, "everyone is in a hurry, in a hurry, in a hurry. There's no patience..." Udi accelerated the speed of the bus a little, hoping that by doing so he would get rid of the hurried driver, but the Mazda did not stop chasing him, and the driver did not stop signaling him in every possible way. The road became a little wider, and the Mazda was now able to drive parallel to the bus. Amazingly, the driver did not try to advance and overtake, but drove near the bus, making vigorous hand gestures in the direction of the bus driver. "What does he want from my life?" Udi thought. He was already starting to get afraid. Who knows what this type of person wants from him. Are there crazy people in the world? When the Mazda driver saw that the bus driver did not understand him, he began to develop speed until he was ahead of the bus. Udi breathed a sigh of relief and thought he had gotten rid of him, but only after a few seconds did he realize what the Mazda driver was going to do: he slowed down more and more, until he stopped in the middle of the road, forcing the bus to stop. All the passengers in front of the bus watched anxiously. From the Mazda that stopped in the middle of the narrow road, a man about forty years old broke in. And he had a black bag in his hand. He ran towards the bus door and motioned for the driver to open it for him. 'Who is this? What does he want?" asked Udi anxiously. Instinctively, his hand reached for the gun in his belt. Who knows what the strange man's intentions are when he forces him to stop in the middle of a lonely road. "Hey, I know him," said Sagi, the guy sitting in the front seat. "He lives with us in the community. He is a senior doctor in a hospital in Tel Aviv.' "To open it for him?" Udi asked. 'He's not a terrorist – that's for sure,' Sagi said. Udi pressed the button and opened the door. He prepared to shout at him, but the man wouldn't give him time. He jumped into the bus and ran amok toward the back seats. He approached Mr. Cohen, who was sitting in the back seat, laid him down in the aisle between the seats, and began to perform CPR on him. At that moment, an approaching ambulance siren was also heard. Before Udi and the passengers realized what was happening, The ambulance braked next to the bus, and two paramedics got out and continued to treat the elderly man, who appeared unconscious. "Are you willing to explain to me what's going on here?" asked Udi, the driver who had left his seat and approached the end of the bus. "My name is Dr. Alon Gurman," said the man, "I'm a cardiologist at Ichilov Hospital, and as I drove behind you, I saw through the back window an elderly man doing seizure movements typical of an acute heart attack. When I saw that it went on, I realized that he couldn't communicate with anyone on the bus, and that he could just die. I started signaling you to stop, and at the same time I called to call an ambulance, but you didn't understand me and you didn't stop. In the end, I forced you to stop, and that's probably what saved the man's life.'
The doctor wanted to save the life of a Jew, so he did things that seemed strange and even disturbing. But as soon as he explains his actions, everyone immediately understands the logic and the good intentions he had. We are used to understanding everything, and when we see things in the world that we don't understand, we immediately come up with complaints... The Torah teaches us in this week's Torah portion, that there are things that must be done even if we do not understand them, and even if they seem to us to be clearly incomprehensible. The mitzva of the red heifer is a mitzva in which no reason is stated, and even King Solomon, the wisest of men, admitted that he did not know the reason for it. Nevertheless, we must fulfill the mitzva, because this is precisely the greatest reason for it: to teach us that not only what we understand with our intellect, we are obligated to fulfill, but also what our intellect is unable to understand, we must fulfill this as well, because this is the will of the Creator.
