The Jewish people are resilient. This past year has been incredibly difficult emotionally, physically, and financially. The attacks from Lebanon mean the air raid siren is almost never silent, and we’re sent running to our shelters every half hour. The constant strain and fear stretches every nerve to its last fiber.
When one family in a settlement a few towns over wanted to celebrate a chanukas habayis, we were only too happy for an opportunity to celebrate. I promised I’d come with my musical parsha group - a program we started where a group of musicians accompanies a shiur on the weekly parsha - and they promised to provide kosher food for the whole crowd. We were expecting 50-60 people, and the family cooked up a storm!
The day of the event, Lebanon decided to participate in the celebration with their own hellish version of fireworks. The entire city was advised to stay in their bomb shelters. The host family called me in distress. They’d worked so hard, and were so looking forward to it. Would it all be for nothing? No one would dare venture out under such dangerous conditions!
The realities of my position have forced me to visit targeted areas under attack on occasion, so after weighing the options carefully, I told them I’d still come. I didn’t think too many others would be willing to leave the safety of their shelters, but I was determined to help this family mark their happy occasion.
Baruch Hashem, as I approached the city limits, the restrictions were lifted, and people were allowed to leave their shelters. A slow stream of visitors trickled in, but not nearly enough to do justice to the piles of food the hostess had so lovingly prepared.
But when word spread that I was there with my musician friends, more and more people started to join. In the end, a day that had started with explosions and rockets ended with camaraderie, Jewish pride, and some solid learning. Am Yisrael Chai.
