Since the inception of the Gaza war, the Jewish people have been saying special Tehillim. In the paragraph we say after Tehillim, we say אחינו כל בית ישראל הנתונים בצרה ובשביה...המקום ירחם עליהם ויוציאם מצרה לרוחה, our brothers, the entire family of Israel who are in distress and captivity...Hashem should have mercy on them and remove them from distress to relief. This formula seems problematic. Why does it say כל בית ישראל, if not all Jews are in distress and captivity?
The answer is that when a slight number of Jews are in trouble, we feel their pain as if we are all in that situation.
In the early 1950s, a large group of Yemenite Jews left their native land and immigrated to Israel. Since this took place shortly after the establishment of the state of Israel, there was little money available. As a result, the Israeli government erected rows of tents for the new immigrants. This is where they lived in the harsh winter doing the best to skirt the ubiquitous thick mud. Hearing about the newcomers’ dire situation, R’ Yitzchak Dovid Grossman’s parents—R’ Yisrael Grossman and his wife—traveled to Rosh Ha’ayin where these immigrants were and went from tent to tent introducing themselves to every family. They offered to take care of their children in Yerushalayim (where the Grossmans lived) for as long as they need if the families didn’t feel capable of caring for them at that time.
This offer was despite the fact that the Grossmans had ten kids of their own in a small apartment. Fifteen Yemenite children came with the Grossmans to Yerushalayim. Two slept in the Grossman house while the rest were divided among the neighbors. R’ Yitzchak Dovid Grossman recalled that for the next few years, he slept in the same bed as two Yemenite boys!
A man named Yeshaya Goldstein was on board a flight when a non-Jew in the neighboring seat initiated a conversation. Although he wasn’t in the mood of talking, he decided to continue the conversation so that he could make a kidush Hashem with the contents of the discussion. The conversation turned to the Jewish community and Yeshaya told him what it’s like in his community, “Where I live, if someone finds money, they post a sign saying, ‘Whoever lost a sum of money should call this number.’ In the building I live in, we have a free lending service for chairs, tables, stamps, cribs, strollers, car seats and more.” He then told the man about different Jewish organizations such as chaverim and hatzalah. The non-Jew was so amazed that he began to tell other people on the flight, “Are you aware that the Jews do all types of selfless acts?”
In 2021, there was a father, who was religious on a rudimentary level, whose daughter became ill, sending her to the hospital. He said that from the moment his daughter arrived at the hospital he came to the realization that being born Jewish is equivalent to winning the lottery. He explained that the patients in hospital beds near where his daughter was were for the most part alone. One child nearby had a visit from her mother every other day because she was busy taking care of the other children since she was unable to find someone to babysit. This is in contrast to his situation where once it became known in the Jewish community that this daughter was in the hospital, many people showed solicitude and began to act. This included babysitters that were arranged, health advisors offering their advice, food coming in bulk and people who came to visit his daughter. He remarked, “I didn’t do anything to deserve it. I was just simply born Jewish.”
A well-known Rabbi, who was raised with little money, related that when he was 10, he once heard his mother say to someone on the phone, “I sometimes wish I was wealthy.” He was flabbergasted when he heard this because wealth was never a value to his mother. Then he heard the next words his mother uttered: “There are so many people I wish I could help who don’t have what they need. But I just don’t have the money.”
