Simchas Torah started beautifully. Delicious food filled our bellies, drinks flowed freely, and our community’s voices sang proudly throughout the night. Hakafos were lively, happy, and inspirational, and we went home dreaming of another day rejoicing with the Torah and our community.
We woke up Shabbos morning to thunder and fire. Explosions - close ones, too. The sirens hadn’t gone off yet, but the ground was literally shaking beneath our feet. Our very foundations rattled.
We were luckier than most. Our Chabad house doubles as a bomb shelter, so not only were we equipped to share a bit of safety and security with our community, but we were also able to celebrate Yom Tov to some extent. In a time of such tragedy and pain, every miracle, no matter how small, should be acknowledged and celebrated.
We’re doing everything we can to help. Whether it be sending mothers formula, feeding soldiers, or tracking down insulin, the requests just keep pouring in.
With so many reservists leaving their young families, and so many people trapped inside under the threat of rockets, the least we can do is try and make them a little more comfortable. Toys, snacks, treats, and games are just as important as the more basic necessities - especially for those cooped up inside bomb shelters 24 hours a day.
A young soldier reached out, asking for tefillin.
“I was called up in the middle of chag,” he explained. “So I didn’t think to take mine.”
“No problem,” I assured him. “I have an extra pair.”
I could hear the relief in his voice. This young chayal, about to face the unspeakable, was only worried about his tefillin.
“But you need to promise me one thing,” I added.
“Anything!” he agreed.
“You need to return them to me personally,” I said. “After the war. So make sure to take care of them, and make sure to take care of yourself.”
The silence pulsed through the phone while I waited for him to respond. Then, finally, I heard a shaky breath and received a quiet promise.
Just a short while ago, Israel was ripped apart by political debates. It shouldn’t take a tragedy of this scale to remind us that our differences don’t matter. We are all limbs of one united body; am Yisrael chai!
