It was the day after Christmas. As I sat in a comfortable leather chair in my hotel room my first morning in Israel, reading The New York Times on my iPad and sipping my Turkish coffee, I learned about the snow storm that covered my US hometown. I took it as a strong sign that I was meant to be in Israel. The ocean waves outside my window were moving quite quickly that morning, as the intermittent Tel Aviv sun brightened their white foam. All thoughts of global conflict receded as I enjoyed the familiar view outside the Carlton Tel Aviv Hotel on the Beach, always our home away from home for at least part of our stay in Israel.
The Tel Aviv Tayelet (promenade) was bursting with life. People of all ages were jogging, cycling, walking and dancing (I love that there is a section of the promenade where people can morph into ballroom dancers to the accompaniment of live music). At the same time, dogs were frolicking through the sand below the promenade. I looked forward to taking a walk with my husband later that day – just slipping into the crowd of people appreciating life.
Twins Abe and Ben at the Western Wall. Photo courtesy of the author.
We had come to Israel this particular week for the B’nei Mitzvah of our niece’s twin boys, Abe and Ben. There were 67 of us, I was told, who had come for the celebration. Though we weren’t all together the whole time, we did meet up at the Ein Gedi Hotel for the weekend, where we attended the B’nei Mitzvah service and listened to the boys exuberantly recite their Torah and Haftarah portions, traditionally recited by Bar-Mitzvah boys. At the lunch that followed, several people spoke, including David, the boys’ dad, who emphasized how meaningful it was for him and his wife, Malka, that this seminal event was held in Israel.
I remember vividly the moment when our Israeli cousin Dani, a few years our senior, asked to say something during Shabbat dinner. “You are our heroes,” he said, for coming to Israel at this point in time. It was, on the one hand, uncomfortable to be thanked for just showing up in this beautiful country for a wonderful occasion, but on the other, it was heartwarming to know that our presence meant so much to him.
Truly, it is his granddaughter Ariel and her boyfriend Guy who were the real heroes at this dinner! She has just finished her army service and immediately signed up to serve in the Miluim (Army Reserves); he is a combat soldier, who has spent many hours in a tank under horrific circumstances. We admire and appreciate them so much and were grateful that they could enjoy a respite with us in Ein Gedi.
It might sound odd, but as I sat at the table, together with our extended family –hailing from Pennsylvania, Florida, California, New York or Israel, I suddenly got this image of a varied colored layer cake, with creamy frosting bonding the layers. I think the different colored layers may have symbolized our family members’ diversity and the frosting the “glue” that bonded all of us through our Zionism.
A “guru” of mine once taught during a dream analysis workshop not to discount the particular details of a dream – that if an elephant appeared, it was telling us something because the dream could have shown us a zebra instead! I do know that the image of that white, fluffy frosting filled my soul with a spiritual sweetness.
The Monday following our weekend in Ein Gedi, we gathered to experience Part Two of the B’nei Mitzvah, where the twin boys would have an Aliyah (ascendance) to the Torah at the Kotel (the historic ancient Western Wall of the Temple Mount). I had expected that there would be one organized service in close proximity to the Kotel and the twins would be called up to recite the traditional blessings before the Torah reading. In actuality, there were countless families performing the same ritual at their own table, with their own Torah, quite a distance from the Wall (though certainly the awesome ancient limestone structure was clearly in view).
Close to the Wall, countless people were offering their own individual prayers — some with one hand on the wall, others bowing to touch the wall with their foreheads.
The scene was a collection of parallel spiritual happenings, framed by an overarching sense of Jewish peoplehood. And, miraculously, despite the cacophony of voices, we were able to hear “our” Bar Mitzvah boys recite the blessings. I am sure they will remember this extraordinary experience for the rest of their lives.
More soul-filling moments greeted me as I visited Hadassah Hospital’s Gandel Rehabilitation Center on Mount Scopus, accompanied by my long-term Hadassah colleague Barbara Sofer. She introduced my husband and me to a few patients and their family members.
One injured soldier was using the state-of-the-art AlterG Anti-Gravity Treadmill. The National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) Differential Air Pressure technology gently adjusts the user’s body weight from 100 percent down to as low as 20 percent, thereby comfortably lifting the patient and enabling him to walk. At the same time, it helps restore stability and mobility.
In my mind’s eye, I still see that young man tucking the fringes of his mini-tallit (prayer shawl) into the harness as he began to walk with the aid of this miraculous treadmill.
We also met the mom of another injured soldier. Barbara explained that we were Hadassah members from the US. She responded so warmly – in Hebrew –“May God continue to help you support us here. There is nothing like this place anywhere else in the country. Thank you!”
(I need to pause here to nudge those of you who don’t speak Hebrew to consider learning the language — if possible before your next trip to Israel. While, of course, being in our Jewish homeland is magical in itself, the experience is elevated immeasurably when you can speak Hebrew to the people you meet.)
Our last evening in the country arrived. Departing after a wonderful dinner with Israeli colleagues at the David Citadel Hotel, we were welcomed into a taxi by a charming young Arab driver. We chitchatted in Hebrew about where we were from, whether he had been to New York (he hadn’t) and then suddenly he was telling us how he got very little sleep the night before because his little child was sick with a high fever.
I told him I remembered that it was typical for very young kids to get high fevers when they got sick and it wasn’t in itself dangerous. I recalled the time my youngest daughter had a fever that was higher than the thermometer could register: the mercury simply extended to the thermometer’s edge! It was a virus that presented with a fever of 107 degrees, my pediatrician had told us. Our driver was surprised to hear that but comforted by the information. When we arrived at the airport and exited the taxi, the driver wished us a nice flight. It hit me that there are endless moments when we can uplift and cushion each other’s existence –no matter how different our lives are.
Feeling filled with emotion as I pulled my suitcase toward the airport entrance, an idealistic, often-recited rose-colored cliché’ took over my heart: “Why can’t we all just get along?” A bittersweet thought to close out a soulful trip!
Lonye is a member of the Hadassah Writers’ Circle, a dynamic and diverse writing group for leaders and members to express their thoughts and feelings about all the things Hadassah does to make the world a better place. It’s where they celebrate their personal Hadassah journeys and share their Jewish values, family traditions and interpretations of Jewish texts. Hadassah members are proud of their Zionist mission and their role as keepers of the flame of Jewish values, traditions and beliefs, as well as advocating for women’s empowerment and health equity for all. Since 2019, the Hadassah Writers’ Circle has published nearly 800 columns in The Times of Israel Blogs and other Jewish media outlets. Interested in writing? Please contact hwc@hadassah.org.
Lonye Debra Rasch is a member of Hadassah, The Women’s Zionist Organization of America’s National Assembly and editor of the Hadassah Writers’ Circle. Married to an international attorney, she is the mother of two daughters and the grandmother of three small children. She is a big advocate of practicing yoga, being a member of a book club group with smart, kind women, and spending time laughing and sharing life’s little sagas with family and friends. She lives Short Hills, NJ, and New York City and is the past president of Hadassah Northern New Jersey.