Toward the end of July 2025, R’ Shlomo, a philanthropist from Chicago, had visited Eretz Yisrael for four days for the hakamas matzeivah of his father-in-law. While waiting in line at Ben Gurion Airport, his wife told him to listen in to a heartrending conversation that was taking place. At their side was a boy, Ayal, crying out his eyes to his counselor, Aaron. They were part of NCSY, a Jewish educational group that does social and religious programming for teenagers across the United States, and were concluding three weeks of Torah observance in Eretz Yisrael, about to return home. Through his sobbing, Ayal cried to Aaron how he knew that once he landed in the US, he’d end up leaving everything behind. “Under no circumstances will my family follow my Shabbos observance, and once I see them being mechalel Shabbos, week after week, I know that I’ll drift right back into my old habits.”
“But that was what this trip was all about,” Aaron tried to assure him. “The purpose of this trip was to inspire you to withstand that temptation. Did you not feel that inspiration?!”
“That’s the problem,” cried Ayal. “I felt so inspired and lifted, and I so badly wish to continue, but knowing myself, once I’m back among my family, week in and week out, I know I’ll fall right back into the trap, and there will be no trace left of my entire experience.”
Hearing this interaction, R’ Shlomo’s wife told him that he must do something about it — and do it right then and there. “There’s no way we can leave a boy who is craving Shabbos to battle this all alone,” she said resolutely.
R’ Shlomo was the right man for the job. He turned to Ayal and offered him $1,000 to keep Shabbos over the next four weeks, with three conditions: 1) The program began that week; 2) that he must spend those four Shabbosim in NCSY, where he’ll know that Ayal will get the real experience of Shabbos, and 3) that over Shabbos, he spends at least at least 10 minutes between the walls of the beis midrash. That’s how he felt would best continue Ayal’s shemiras Shabbos.
That offer comforted Ayal tremendously, and he quickly agreed.
When Ayal asked why he was being offered such a generous gift, R’ Shlomo explained, “Over the past three weeks, you’ve just experienced the present that Hashem gave us, and I don’t want that to fade into thin air. By doing so, I hope you’ll get into the habit and observe Shabbos even under different circumstances, spurring you on to keep not just four Shabbosim, but 4,000 Shabbosim!”
Well, hearing Ayal get offered such a lucrative proposal spawned Ayal’s trip mates to similarly request such “motivation,” and R’ Shlomo did not turn them down. A deal was arranged for all the 30 NCSY members to receive $1,000 for keeping Shabbos over the next four weeks. One boy who grew up shomer Shabbos asked R’ Shlomo to strike him a deal, as well. After confirming that shemiras ha’lashon was his rough spot, R’ Shlomo assured him that guarding his tongue would be his deal.
The counselor and R’ Shlomo exchanged contacts to monitor the boys’ part of the deal and subsequently distribute their gifts at the culmination of the four weeks.
R’ Shlomo moved along in the airport until his wife sent her handbag in for screening, and the red lights began flickering. Upon investigation, the security man detected a challah knife resting quietly in her small carry-on. Among her various purchases, she had bought her dear son a challah knife as a gift. The security officer assured her that there was no way that the knife would board the plane.
But R’ Shlomo was not going to just let it get confiscated so easily. It was no simple knife, an exquisitely designed breadknife that they couldn’t just watch be thrown into the trash. He began to explain that such a knife is used only for Shabbos, and that nobody would use such a knife, wrapped in a silver box, to attack anybody. But no amount of reasoning persuaded the unreasonable.
Before he knew it, the supervisor was making his way over. “Oh no,” R’ Shlomo thought to himself. “That’s the end of our challah knife for sure.” However, the supervisor instructed his employee to put the knife right back into the handbag and motioned to R’ Shlomo and his wife to follow him.
After seating R’ Shlomo and his wife around his round wooden desk, the supervisor told them that he noticed the commotion that took place several minutes ago between him and the NCSY group.
“I went to the cameras to listen in to your conversation,” the supervisor told them, “and I was blown away. You’re offering those boys all that money to ensure that they keep Shabbos touched me to the core. Because of that, I will personally lead you through security with that knife in your carry-on” — something that in the history of Ben Gurion Airport had never happened.
R’ Shlomo was shocked. In his wildest dreams, he never imagined that the supervisor would spearhead him, his wife, and their gift knife on their return to Chicago. They zippered up their bag, and continued their journey to board the plane.
After benefitting Shabbos, Shabbos benefitted him, as well.
The story doesn’t end here. After extending his services, leading all the way to their plane, the supervisor broke down. “Growing up,” he explained to them, “I was shomer Shabbos but only felt it restrictive and a burdening pressure. I never felt its splendor or holiness, and now I crave it so. My soul aches for it. Your incentive would make all that difference to me and hopefully spur me into Shabbos observance yet again. Though I don’t need the money, it’s the incentive that I desperately need, and now is the first time that I’m being presented with one.”
Not expecting such a request from the tall, bald-headed supervisor in the Ben Gurion Airport, R’ Shlomo extended his offer not only to include the entire NCSY group but even a security supervisor.
He tried helping some fellows, and Hashem assisted him in helping others, as well.
Hashem had R’ Shlomo’s wife buy a new knife and be stopped at the patrol — all so that a forlorn Yid could find his way back Home. Hashem needs every Yid!
