Great sorrow filled our family when my brother was sent to prison for a financial crime he had committed.
It was one thing for my brother to pay for his misdeeds, but the greatest pain was for the children he left behind, especially his son, who was to celebrate his Bar Mitzvah in a month without his father’s presence. Our inquiries revealed that there was no chance of securing a prisoner’s release for a Bar Mitzvah just a month after entering prison. Amid all this sorrow, our elderly aunt passed away from a broken heart, and her family requested that everyone make a special effort to attend her funeral in Bnei Brak.
I work as a bus driver in Beitar Illit, with a tight schedule due to a shortage of drivers. Nevertheless, I asked the dispatcher for permission to take a few hours off to pay my respects to my aunt on her final journey. The dispatcher was reluctant to release me, but after considerable effort, he agreed, with the condition that I return to work immediately after the funeral.
Of course, I committed to returning promptly and even arranged a ride back from the funeral straight to work.
Plans, however, often differ from reality. After the funeral, they asked me to stay for Mincha, especially since I was needed as the tenth man for the minyan. The person giving me a ride back also stayed for Tefillah, leaving me with no other choice.
After Tefillah, we set off together toward Beitar. Near Beit Shemesh, my ride suddenly decided to change his route. He informed me that he had to alter his plans and, to my dismay, dropped me off on Route 38 near Beit Shemesh. I felt like I was about to explode from stress, especially since the dispatcher, who had been so accommodating, was now receiving ingratitude in return.
As I stood there, a bus driver from my company recognized me and picked me up on his route. He told me he was running the Beitar Illit–Kiryat Gat line and needed to finish his shift urgently but required a replacement. I told him that if he got the dispatcher’s approval, I’d be happy to replace him.
He called the dispatcher, got the green light, and I took over his shift. After completing the return route to Kiryat Gat, I had some time and entered a local shul to daven Maariv. Across from me, I noticed a man wearing a shirt with the logo of the Israel Prison Service (Shabas-Sheirut Batei Sohar). I kept glancing at him, debating whether to approach him, until I finally decided to try.
We waited until after Maariv, and outside shul I asked if he could assist with securing my brother’s release for the night of his son’s Bar Mitzvah. He asked for my brother’s details, gave me his personal phone number, and told me to stay in touch. He said that if it were possible, he would help arrange it. I was stunned by his response, which filled me with hope. But I wondered to myself—does he really have the authority to help? Mustering my courage, I asked, “Sorry for asking, but what’s your position in Shabas?” “I’m the one who signs off on all releases and furloughs,” he replied. I nearly collapsed from excitement. I was overwhelmed with gratitude and regret for having questioned God’s plan. He had arranged for my friend to drop me off on Route 38, and instead of recognizing His providence, I had been filled with complaints. Now I saw clearly that God knows exactly what He’s doing, and it’s always for the best!
What we had hoped for was just an hour of release. The reality? My brother was granted leave from prison for several hours—from the beginning of the event until the end of the Bar Mitzvah—bringing immense joy to the entire family!
ש.ק.
