From Afar

I grew up in Montreal, Canada. I went to Jewish day schools and was taught about the importance of my Jewish identity from a very young age. On Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day for the Fallen Soldiers of Israel), we always had a commemoration ceremony and I cried. On Yom Ha'Atzma'ut, we hit the streets with flags, singing, dancing and falafel for lunch....And I felt tremendous joy...Israel always had a very deep and special place in my heart.

But that was it. Grieving from afar...Celebrating from afar...Everything from afar, in my comfortable and carefree life back in Canada.

Meanwhile, as I was going out with my friends without a care in the world, you, my Israeli brothers and sisters were getting drafted into the army...You were kids just like me, 18 years old...Lacing up your combat boots while I planned my next Mexican getaway...

You were forced into a painful and frightening reality that I knew nothing about...You were on a mission to protect your Nation....Your mothers and your fathers stayed awake nights on end, hoping and praying that you would return home safely. Your younger brothers and sisters may have been too young to really understand, but they saw the fear and the pain in your parents' eyes.

My blood is not thicker, better or redder than yours. It never was. Why was it okay for me to lead a blessedly ignorant young adult life, while you were on the front lines, heroically fighting to protect our people? Why was it okay that at 18 you wondered if you would return home alive to your family while I wondered how I was going to pass my final exams?

To all of you, my dear brothers and sisters who lost your precious young lives in order to protect our citizens, I am here now, not just in heart, but in body and soul as well. I am in the ring with you. Your losses are my losses. Your tragedies are my tragedies. Your victories are my victories.

Tonight and tomorrow on Yom HaZikaron, I will cry for all 23,320 of you who lost your lives and I will cry for the additional 67 of you that joined this unfathomable number over the summer in Operation Tzuk Eitan. I will stand in silence tonight and tomorrow and feel the heartache that our entire nation will be feeling and then tomorrow night, I will celebrate the wonder and the amazement of our beautiful little country that is turning 67 years old. The giant heart that is our Nation will continue to beat, in sadness and in joy.

With Love,

Cigal

Around my Shabbes Table

It's mid April in Israel...But today it feels like mid December. The bitter cold, the thunder, lighting and pouring rain throughout the night. The howling winds into the early hours of the morning....I imagine the vicitms and they're crying, along with G-d...They'e crying bitter angry tears about the unspeakable and unfathomable loss that all of us have had to endure...Broken families, dead children, burning corpses, human ashes...

And later in the morning, the sun shows up, because that is who we are as a nation...After the darkness, the light always returns. But we can't see that beautiful light when we are blinded by darkness...So we seek the light, and then we find it.

I do my regular Thursday Shabbat shop before the 10 am siren, hoping to be outdoors when it sounds off. As I walk home with my shopping bags, I picture my 4 year old uncle and my grandparents in their early 40's. They too, were crying bitter tears last night in the middle of the night and earlier this morning. They were sobbing for their son and their brother(my father) and for their daughters and sisters (my aunts). They were sobbing for their nieces, nephews, grandchildren, great grandchildren and their great great grandchildren whom they never got to hug, kiss or caress.

They missed out on Britot, Bat Mitzvahs,  Bar Mitzvahs and weddings. Oh ,how I wish they could have been at my wedding and at the births of my children..I imagine what it would be like to sit around my Shabbes table with them singing beautiful Shabbes songs and harmonizing in perfect sync. I imagine baking challah with my beautiful grandmother and learning from her how to put the perfect touch to my cholent. I imagine my grandfather and my uncle taking my boys to shul and feeling so much pride as they watch them pray from the heart. I imagine listening to my grandparents share stories from their childhoods and I imagine myself soaking it all in, while thirsting for more...But these are just dreams that live deep within my imagination...

While standing still for the siren in the cold and windy morning, I feel their warm and loving embrace around me and I know they are with me. And I am with them. And that's how it will always be, for I carry their torch and that torch will continue to live within me, my children, their children and all generations to follow, Please G-d.


With Love,
Cigal

It's All About The Children

My four year old daughter is due to have her birthday party in her preschool. Yesterday when I picked her up, one of her teachers and I were talking about making it tomorrow.
Early this morning, after dropping all the kids off at their respective preschools, I phoned my daughter's Gan (preschool) to discuss what I needed to bring to the party. She then said "Wait a minute! We can't tomorrow...Tomorrow is Holocaust Memorial Day...It would be inappropriate. Let's do it on Sunday instead". I agreed and hung up.

Hubby and I were out having a leisurely breakfast at the time. As I hung up, I looked at him and said" I know I just agreed that it would be inappropriate to have a preschool birthday party on Yom HaShoah, but I actually think in some ways, there couldn't be a better and more appropriate day for such a celebration".


When Hitler and his cronies came up with the Final Solution, their ultimate goal was to completely destroy, decimate and annihilate the Jewish people. Their mission was to wipe out babies, children, mothers, fathers and grandparents.

World War 2 began in 1939...In 1941, our people were being led by the hundreds and the thousands to the slaughterhouses, like sheep in cattle cars. Now, sixty six years later, the Jewish people are thriving. We have our own country and our own army. Every day and every hour, new babies join our nation. New couples are formed to build their homes among the Jewish people.

Hitler's grand mission failed. The Jewish people are here to stay. We are a strong, resilient and ever-growing Nation. The sound of Jewish children's laughter fill our homes, our streets, our parks and our classrooms . In my community alone, my heart swells with joy and pride each time I see a beautiful pregnant belly on every street corner or when I go on a bus that's stuffed to the gills with single and double strollers.

The Jewish Revenge is all about the children. The strong, beautiful children who, G-d willing, one day, will build their own Jewish homes and fill them with the joyful laughter of their own children and the chain will continue.

Although my heart aches for the 6 million who perished, among them members of my own family, I gain comfort from knowing that I have contributed to the Jewish Revenge and that this revenge will continue with my children and their children, and their children's children, G-d willing.

May the memories of the victims of the Holocaust be blessed.
יהי זכרם ברוך

With Love,
Cigal

Goodbye, my sons

I never hugged you, kissed you or stroked your hair. I never bathed you or changed your diapers. I never clapped for you when you took those first tentative steps and I never squealed in delight when I saw your first tooth.

I never cheered you on when you started using the toilet and when you threw out your pacifiers.

I never got that sinking feeling that mothers get when they bring their little ones to preschool for the first time and the little ones hold on to their mothers for dear life, terrified to let them leave.

I never told you I was proud of you, nor did I ever tell you that I love you.

I never got upset with you for fighting with your siblings or for breaking your brother's favorite toy.

I never held you in my arms to comfort you when you were sick, sad or just plain tired.

I never laid down next to you at night to hear the details of your day.

I never chased a ball with you, blew bubbles with you or splashed around in cool water with you during the hot summer months.

I never rocked you back to sleep when you woke up terrified by dreams that shook your world up.

I never even met you, but you were my sons, killed at the hands of evil, brutal terrorists who derived joy and pleasure from my loss. My heart aches for you, Yochai and Dor Chaim. In this tiny little country of ours that knows very little, if any degrees of separation, I feel like my world just grew darker, as two beautiful rays of light were extinguished from it. You were heroes, my boys. You fought to defend your people and your nation and sacrificed yourselves and your beautiful young lives in the process.

Your birth families are devastated. They are crushed beyond words. They are sobbing bitter tears and wondering how to continue living from now on. And your surrogate family, the entire Nation of Israel, joins them in their unbearable pain. We are a nation with one giant heart and with every loss, that heart cracks a little bit more each time. But it will never ever break.


Goodbye, my sons. Your memory will live deep within your family's heart.


יהי זכרם ברוך
Major Yochai Kalangel, 25 years old (Har Gilo)
Staff Sgt. Dor Chaim Nini, 20 years old (Shtulim)

With love,


Cigal

The Beauty of Shabbat

I remember almost 15 years ago, being newly single in Vancouver, on my path to discovering the beauty of Shabbat. The awe and the wonderment that I felt at every Shabbat service and Shabbat table filled my heart with love and joy, making me dare to dream of the day that I could create a warm, welcoming, inspiring environment in my own home one day. Being around various Shabbat tables, witnessing the angel-like beauty of the women as their husbands sang Aishet Chayil(Woman of Valor)to them, made me dream of the day that my future husband would sing that beautiful song to me with tremendous love and intent in his heart.

Every Jew has at least one mitzva that they feel particularly connected to. For some, it might be giving tzedaka(charity to the poor). For others, it may be Hachnassat Orchim (opening their doors to guests). Some women feel extremely connected to Taharat HaMishpacha(Family Purity/Mikve), while others may feel very attached to tzniut(modesty).

From the very beginning of my journey, I have always felt a deep and spiritual connection to Shabbat and Hachnassat Orchim. I attached myself to a beautiful congregation, one that felt more like a family. The Rabbi and his wife epitomized for me, the true beauty of Shabbat and Judaism. They were my role models, the ones I am indebted to for the rest of my life, for opening my heart and soul to the real definition of beauty. They became my dear friends over time. And then came my time to fly the coop, spread my wings and fly to the Land of Israel. I was going to build my life with Am Yisrael, in Eretz Yisrael, Al Pi Torat Yisrael. And so with fear, trepidation and excitement, I made the move to Israel ten years ago. Bit by bit, more and more friends from Vancouver followed suite and have created their own beautiful Torah observant homes in Israel.


But it wasn't all peaches and cream. Leaving my beautiful community in Vancouver was a tremendous loss, especially as I was single and living in a town where I felt no sense of community. Shabbat became more difficult. I was searching for that sense of community that I had given up and I wasn't finding it. Thank G-d, at least I was making friends and getting invited out for Shabbat. When I developed more friendships, I tried hosting meals, but somehow, it just wasn't the same. I felt a deep sense of longing and loss every time I thought about the beautiful people and community I had left behind...


Fast forward to now, ten years later, I have, thank G-d, married the perfect man for me. His "Aishet Chayil" every week elevates me and reminds me of how I longed for this so many years ago. Every week, we open our doors to guests and look forward to many more beautiful years of hosting.

This past Shabbat, we had an engaged couple over for lunch. In the middle of the meal, the woman turned to me and said "Wow, Cigal, everything is so delicious. This home is filled with Torah and love. What could be better?". In that one sentence, this woman, whom I had met only once before, shook me to my core and made me realize "Wow, I am TRULY living my dream".

I look forward to welcoming many, many more guests into our home for years to come. It's important to me that our home be open to any Jew who needs a meal, whether, he/she is single, divorced, older, younger, religious, on a path or just curious about Shabbat. It is my hope to impart the beauty of an open home to my children so that they'll want to continue with this tradition when they create their own homes one day, G-d willing.

With Love,
Cigal

A Smile from the Heart

A smile from the heart. A heartfelt" Good Morning", "Good Evening" or "Shabbat Shalom" when we pass someone on the street are all messages Hubby and I try to impart to our children. We never know what kind of an impact any of these messages can have on the receiver. Maybe the person is a street cleaner who woke up at the crack of dawn to start his/her daunting job of cleaning all the garbage that had piled up on the sidewalks and streets. Maybe it was the hungry bus driver, eagerly awaiting his lunch break. It could have been a random woman who hardly slept the night before because her baby was teething. Or maybe it was a random man who was racking his brain trying to figure out how to put food on the table for his family.

I am a big believer in speaking to the heart of the person before whom I am standing and I thank G-d every day for the opportunities that He gives me to teach this important and very valuable lesson to my children.

On our way to his preschool every morning, my five year old and I keep seeing the same very sweet street cleaner who always has a big smile on his face. "This man works very hard every single day so that he can put food on the table for his family", I tell my boy. "Not only does he work hard for his family, but he also works very hard for us and the rest of the people that live in Ramat Beit Shemesh, so that we can walk on clean streets".

This morning, my boy spotted him before I did. It so happens that I had picked up some danishes for the kids for after preschool and for my little guy as a prize after his imminent blood test. I suddenly had what I thought was a great idea. " My boy, here. Go give the nice man a couple of danishes for his coffee break." My boy and I walked over to the street cleaner and with big smiles we said" Here, take some cakes for when you have a coffee break". The sweet man broke out into a giant smile and thanked us profusely for the treats. When we left him, my five year old said" Ema, he said thank you to us so many times".

And that, my boy, is a lesson we can all learn from, for even in the midst of cleaning filth and garbage, this sweet holy man finds reasons to smile every morning and to thank his Creator for all that He gives him.

With Love,
Cigal

Stolen Innocence

The flood gates have finally opened. My eyes are burning and I can taste the bitter tears, rolling down my cheeks as I am now able to sit with my aching broken heart and try to process the horrific and unspeakable murders that happened in the Holy City of Jerusalem on Tuesday. Early in the morning, four innocent men in the middle of their morning prayers were brutally murdered by Arabs along with a heroic Druze policeman who tried fighting off the terrorists.

I was waiting at the doctor's office with my almost 5 year old when I heard the news over the phone. I kept my reaction very calm and stoic and was relieved to see him playing in a far off corner where he couldn't hear me talking. After seeing the doctor, it was clear that my boy needed to be home for a couple of days so he could rest and go back to his preschool feeling much better.

Almost five, three and a half and almost 2 1/2. My three small, innocent and pure children, living in a terrifying world where there are people who would love nothing more than to destroy them, just because they are Jews. Those murderers have stolen away so many childhoods, so much innocence. Why do young children need to be afraid to ride a bus to school? Why must young teens lose total focus and concentration in school and be texting their mothers about how terrified they are, all day long? Why must our kids wake up from nightmares in the middle of the night  and tell their Mommies that they hope they never die? How is a crying mother supposed to explain to her children why she and the news reporter are both crying?

I want my children to have a regular childhood. I want them to keep their innocence as long as possible. I want to them to feel safe, happy and secure. I am grateful that my almost 5 year old was home with me when this last tragedy happened. I always want to be the first one to share both good news and bad news with my children. I never want them to find out from their peers or their teachers first. I want my kids to know that they can ask me anything any time and that they can share any and all of their feelings with me any time. I want to be honest with them. I want to tell them exactly what they want to know....


And yet, I think about all my fellow Israeli mothers with older children and my heart aches for both you and your children, especially now...How crushing it must have been to tell them that innocent men had been murdered in the middle of their morning prayers...How incredibly devastating it must have been to hear them ask you why those evil monsters hate us so much...How painful it must be for you to try to comfort your children when you are inconsolable...

And yet, as believing Jews, we must believe that this is all a part of G-d's plan for us, as He prepares us for welcoming Moshiach (The Messiah). I have to believe that for reasons only He knows, this tragedy will somehow improve us as a Nation. For now, all we can do is pray, be kind to one another and do the most important mission that Hashem has entrusted us with: raising the next generation of G-d loving/ G-d fearing Jews in OUR land. The land that He gave us as a beautiful gift on a silver platter. The land that we will NEVER EVER leave.

With Love,

Cigal