I heard the following amazing story, which happened a few weeks ago, from a kollel member in Chicago, and I verified the details with Shmuel Mashiach.
Shmuel Mashiach, a Chicago businessman, was waiting in line at Ben Gurion airport together with hundreds of teens returning from NCSY’s Anne Samson Jerusalem Journey (TJJ). Behind him, a boy named Eyal was telling his counselor that although he had kept his first Shabbos in Eretz Yisroel, he had no idea how to continue once back home, since his parents didn’t keep Shabbos or kosher.
On the spot, Shmuel raised his voice so the group could hear: “Anyone who keeps four Shabbosos in a row starting this week will get one thousand dollars from me.” A commotion broke out as the teens turned toward him. He explained the conditions: they had to begin right away, spend Shabbos with a shomer Shabbos family, and go to shul at least once. “Shabbos is a gift,” he told them. “Unwrap it, and it will change your life.”
The counselors took his number, and the line moved on. A few minutes later, Mrs. Mashiach placed her carry-on bag on the conveyor belt. The alarm sounded. Security began searching the bag and pulled out a beautiful silver challah knife from the prestigious silver shop Hazorfim, a gift they had purchased for their son. Because they weren’t checking luggage, the guard explained firmly that it had to be confiscated. “This is Ben Gurion policy, nothing can be done.”
Shmuel tried to protest. “This isn’t a weapon, it’s for Shabbos. It cost hundreds of dollars. Can’t I just bring it back to check in?” But the answer was final: it was going into the trash, along with all the other confiscated items.
Just then, a voice rang out from the back: “Rega, rega, rega!” (“Just a minute!”) A supervisor approached and motioned to them quietly, “Bo iti — follow me.” Expecting trouble, they braced themselves. Instead, he lowered his voice and said, “I saw what you did with those kids. You touched my heart. I used to keep Shabbos faithfully, for many years, until life and old wounds pulled me away. But what I heard from you awakened something in me.”
Then, breaking protocol, he told them, “I’m going to do something that’s never done. I’ll have your wife escorted back to the United desk, check this bag as luggage, and then bring her back through security.” And true to his word, he arranged everything until the knife was safely stowed under the plane.
Before parting, he turned to Shmuel with emotion in his voice. “I want you to give me the same challenge — but without the money. I want to try keeping four Shabbosos in a row.” It was clear that he carried a deep, heartfelt longing to return to Yiddishkeit. They exchanged numbers, and soon afterward, he began sending updates: “First Shabbos kept.” “Second week — still going strong.”
And it didn’t stop there. Since that airport encounter, many of the teens from the group have been calling as well, saying they’re taking him up on the challenge — and some have gone beyond the four weeks, continuing to keep Shabbos on their own.
Who knows how far the impact of this kiddush Hashem will spread as the story continues to unfold?
