The moment we heard about the march for Israel, I knew we'd be going.
First, D.C. is literally next door. My husband and I have the privilege of serving as the Rebbe's shluchim to Aspen Hill, MD, which is not far away. For us it was simply driving to the metro station and hopping on the first train to D.C.
But obviously, there was so much more to it. It was a moment for us to connect with so many of our fellow Jews, and declare how much we care about our brothers and sisters in Israel. To pray together for the safe return of the hostages. To beseech G-d for peace in the world.
Before we left, my 13-year-old and 11-year-old daughters and I prepared a backpack. In addition to a water bottle and snacks, we packed dozens of Shabbat-candle kits. Anticipating the presence of many Jewish women at the event and understanding the power of the mitzvah of lighting Shabbat candles, I saw this as a unique opportunity not to be missed. The Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—emphasized that when two Jews come together, a positive outcome should result for a third. And a fourth. And a fifth. I anticipated having many encounters that would lead to a positive result, encouraging women and girls to partake in this significant mitzvah and illuminate our world with additional light.
While approaching random strangers on the street is entirely outside of my comfort zone, I have always recognized the beauty of being a part of mivtzoim. With my daughters beside me, watching and absorbing, I wanted them to grasp the influence they can have on their Jewish peers. I knew I had to model for them what it means to positively impact another Jew and experience firsthand the work of a Chabad shlucha.
When we got onto the train, the camaraderie was already in the air.
At every station, more and more Jews poured onto the train.
Even without words, there was a sense of an innate connection. We were bound and connected by 3,300 years of history and a Divine mission to bring light to the world.
As we approached the National Mall, it became apparent that this was truly a teachable moment in terms of my daughters' connection with their people.
We found our place in the giant crowd. With my daughters' excitement and encouragement, I approached a woman and offered her the candles.
Everyone I asked responded with grace, grateful for the opportunity to do something spiritual for their brethren. They intuitively understood that lighting Shabbat candles helps Israel in a real and powerful way.
One woman from New Jersey gave me a bear hug that I can still feel.
A highlight for me was the heartfelt speech by Rachel Goldberg, mother of Hersh Goldberg-Polin, a severely injured 23-year-old believed to be among the hostages in Gaza. She shared her feelings with such candidness and power that I could not help but weep in my heart along with her.
And I felt very close to her because Rachel's mom, Marcy Goldberg, did exactly what I was doing—she distributed a staggering 35,000 Shabbat candle kits as a volunteer for Chabad in Chicago.
Marcy and I are inspired by the Rebbe's call to encourage Jewish women and girls to light candles every Friday before sunset.
Before I knew it, my backpack was empty. But my heart was full. I was uplifted, thankful and inspired by what I heard and by the wonderful women I met from all over the United States.
What holds the most significance for me is the remarkable influence that this unprecedented experience had on my daughters. G-d willing, they will cherish these memories for a long time to come.
May the extra lights kindled this Shabbat dispel the darkness for eternity, and may they bring about the fulfillment of G-d's promise, “If you keep the lights of Shabbat, I will show you the lights of Zion.”
May it happen soon!
