Small Sparks of Love

This morning, after dropping my oldest off at his kindergarten, I decided to stop at a salad bar on the way home and treat myself to a fresh and healthy salad for breakfast instead of a tub of Ben & Jerry's. On my way out of the salad bar, I saw a very young looking Hatzala Medic sitting on his scooter, talking on his cellphone, probably to his wife, as I heard him say "I love you very much" before hanging up.

As I looked at him, I got a sudden rush of images of what his life must be like. A young wife at home. Maybe she's expecting their first child or maybe they already have a couple of young children. Maybe he's trained as a carpenter, a plumber, a lawyer or a doctor. Maybe he has a private practice as a therapist or he runs a catering business. The one thing that I know for sure, is that he has his beeper on him at all times, whether it be a Sunday morning, a Tuesday late at night, a Shabbat morning or an Erev Chag (the eve of a holiday). He is on call 24/7, ready to respond to any kind of trauma, whether it be a nasty car accident, a suicide bombing, a stabbing or a shooting.

I returned back to reality and was suddenly filled with a tremendous sense of awe and gratitude to this young man who is literally at the center of all the bloodshed our tiny beautiful country is facing right now. The tremendous mesirut nefesh (dedication) and love that this man and so many other Hatzala volunteers and their families show for their people is beyond incredible...

"I must get him something small to show my appreciation", I thought to myself, praying that he wouldn't drive off before I could. I ran into the closest bakery and bought him an ice coffee. As I ran out the door, he had already backed up on his scooter and was about to drive off. 
"Excuse me!" I called out. 
"Yes?" he answered
"I saw you sitting here and I just had to show you my deep appreciation for the incredible work that you're doing for our Nation."
"What work do I do?" he asks humbly.
"Your tremendous work with Hatzala". He smiled. 
"I am so in awe of all of you incredible Hatzala guys, your wives, your families.So here's my small token of appreciation for you. This ice coffee is for you"
"Wow! Thank you so much!", he responded. 
I walked away from that exchange feeling like a million bucks and I'm sure he was touched by the gesture.

Showing Hakarat HaTov( being grateful), especially during dark times like these for our people, can add small sparks of love and hope into the deep darkness that seems to be surrounding us right now. 

To my beautiful Nation, Am Yisrael, express as much Hakarat HaTov to as many people as you can, as often as you can. It'll make you feel warm and fuzzy inside and you will touch the heart of the person on the receiving end.

Am Yisrael Chai!

With Love,
Cigal

***Note: The stress, fear and anxiety of the last few weeks have caused many people, present company included, to resort to stress eating, hence the comment about a tub of Ben & Jerry's.

A Good Look in the Mirror

He dons peyot(side locks) and a black hat. You see him running into a synagogue to get to prayers on time. As he exits, you see him run over to a man with his hand outstretched and place some coins in his shaking and dirty hand, while offering the needy Jew words of encouragement and strength. The man in the black hat has lips constantly moving in prayer. He learns Torah every day and does mitzvot (good deeds), except that all that changes when he walks through the door of his house and closes it at the end of the day. There, his entire demeanor changes. He becomes an angry tyrant, yelling, towering, threatening and shoving whomever gets in his way...

Her mitpachat (head covering) covers every last strand of hair on her head. Her arms are fully covered and her long skirt and dark tights ensure that her legs are fully covered as well. She's a principal at an all girls school, training young girls to value the importance of modesty and leading by perfect example. A woman in jeans and a tshirt walks by the principal at a bus stop and feels those judging eyes moving across her body...She feels the stares of disapproval and the looks of disgust....


Today after dropping my oldest son off at his preschool, I went to the center of town to grab a quick coffee to take home with me. Standing in front of me in line was a young woman with a mohawk haircut, multiple piercings in her ear and her nose and tight black pants with a short sleeved black shirt. She was being served by the young woman behind the counter, who was preparing a healthy and delicious looking sandwich for her. When the sandwich was ready, she paid, went to put the sandwich down and went to do Netilat Yadayim (ritual washing of the hands before eating bread). As she went to sit at her place, out of the corner of my eye, I watched a very beautiful moment when this young woman, filled with tremendous kavana (intent) and closed eyes, said the blessing before eating bread.


As I stood there inspired and blown away by her sincere intent, it hit me like a ton of bricks that I would have never expected this from her and suddenly I felt very ugly. And very ashamed of myself. Who the heck am I to judge this beautiful young woman who is serving our Creator? The way she was dressed automatically made me judge her.It automatically made me assume that she doesn't recognize where that beautiful healthy sandwich really came from. But I was wrong. Dead wrong.

We all do it and we all must stop. The uniform is just that. A uniform. A person's truth lies within their soul and their heart not in their dress code. The kippa or lack thereof says nothing about the person's soul. The mitpachat, sheitel or mohawk are just external layers that mean so very little. We must all take a good look in the mirror and ask ourselves how we want people to judge us,  and then we must act in kind.

With Love,

Cigal

United By Love

On June 12th, 2014, Israeli teens Naftali Fraenkel, Gilad Shaer and Eyal Yifrah were kidnapped by Hamas terrorists. For 18 days, before we knew with certainty of their tragic fate, the pure love and unity that poured out from our Nation was both immeasurable and indescribable.All of our differences were left aside and nothing but our deep connection to one another mattered. For eighteen days, our Nation showed the pure love of brothers and sisters  On June 30th, the bodies were found. Today, on the Jewish calendar, marks a year since that dreadful day.

And at the request of the Three Mothers, and their families, today is Unity Day, in memory of the three beautiful boys who inspired an unprecedented outpouring of love, acts of random kindness, prayer and connection within the entire Jewish Nation both in Israel and abroad.

According to Rabbi Shais Taub, an American Hassidic rabbi and author that is also known for his work in the field of addiction recovery and is a weekly columnist for Ami magazine, "The Jewish Woman is called the Akeret Bayit, the foundation of the home...And since the whole Jewish people is made up of many homes,  the Jewish woman is really the foundation of the Jewish people as a whole" (Rabbi Shais Taub). This morning was proof of this.

This morning, I had the honor and the pleasure to unite with hundreds of my beautiful sisters, from young children to grandmothers, from National Religious, to Traditional and Charedi (Ultra Orthodox), in my town of Ramat Beit Shemesh. We first formed a human chain, hand in hand, on one of our circular streets(which happens to be the street I live on). We stood there singing, dancing, praying and then we all moved on to an incredibly moving, uplifting and inspiring gathering in a park down the road, where we heard inspiring words from Rabbis, from Naftali's sister and father, and from young women who knew the boys and their families.

As I stood there, both as a participant and as an observer, I was in awe of the strength and the beauty that defines my beautiful Nation. We carry so much national pain with us, and yet, we stand tall and proud as we raise our eyes and hearts to the heavens beseeching our Heavenly Father to hear our prayers to end the pain. And all the while, we never give up hope that that day will surely come and that all of our pain and suffering will come to an end, and we'll know nothing but joy.

To Eyal, Naftali and Gilad, I have no doubt that you were watching us and feeling tremendous pride in your strong and beautiful birth mothers who came up with the gorgeous idea of Unity Day and that you were smiling at the rest of your mothers and sisters who took their request to heart and followed suite with open hearts and tremendous love.

May the memories of Gilad, Eyal and Naftali be blessed and may our Heavenly Father continue to bless their families with love, support and strength wherever they turn.

Yehi Zichram Baruch.

With Love,
Cigal

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