Of Counting and Tears
It is time for me to summarize my involvement with missions over the past few months.
Since the beginning of the war, I have been privileged with the honor of guiding ten missions. To say it was challenging is an understatement. What the participants did once, I did eight, nine, or ten times. They were exposed to the traumas once, I was exposed again and again. Whatever uplifting experiences they had, I benefited from them multiple times.
Never have I ever seen so much focus on inclusion, openness, willingness to be challenged, and expressions of support for our people and our soldiers.
In the Haggadah, there are traditions for counting, enumerating, and listing the particulars of Exodus’ events. It is an ancient way of summarizing and processing extended and complex episodes. In that vein, here is a summary of the past few months in numbers:
10: Ten missions. Out of the ten, five were Orthodox Synagogue groups, one was a private couple, three were academic (spanning about ten universities), and one was a social welfare group.
10: I bore witness at ten southern Israel sites: Kibbutz Beeri, Kibbutz Kfar Aza, Netiv HaAsara, Kibbutz Alumim, the cities of Sderot and Ofakim, the Nachal Oz army base, the Nova festival site, the Tkuma car graveyard, and the Zikim Beach
4: I visited four hospitals: Ichilov, Tel HaShomer, Rambam, and Soroka.
9: I met with the leadership of nine academic institutions: Hebrew U. Mt. Scopus, Tel Aviv U., Haifa U., Ben Gurion U. in Beer Sheva, Bar Ilan in Ramat Gan, Weitzman Institute in Rehovot, the Technion, Ariel in the Shomron, and Sapir College,
3: Met with President Herzog three times.
2: Met with US Ambassador Jack Lew twice.
20: I heard personal testimonies from about twenty family members of hostages.
50+: I met over 50 brave injured soldiers.
20+-: I participated in the last honors at about 20 funerals and comforted the same number of Shiva homes.
100: Sang “Am Yisrael Chai” over 100 times on dozens of occasions.
76: days of reserve duty – miluim.
1,000,000: number of tears shed. Also the number of prayers. (at least it felt that way)
134: Hostages still in captivity
...My two best moments of having a “good cry.”
Yes, I admit it. I cry more often and more easily. I cry while sharing specific stories relating to recent events. I cry when I translate the words of young soldiers whom we randomly meet at Mt. Herzl, while they tell my groups about their friends buried in Jerusalem’s military cemetery.
I didn’t cry (or at least haven’t yet) when visiting the pillaged Kibbutzim, military morgues, or massacre sites.
My best cries happened at two random times.
Story #1:
I was at the Nova Festival site (not for the first time) and the group was just about to leave. Suddenly I spot one of my former students from Lev V’Nefesh.
[Methodical pause here: Lev V’Nefesh, aka LVN, is a two-month immersive Israel program for the graduating seniors of the Solomon Schechter Westchester – now Lafell – high school. I had the pleasure of being one of the Israel educators for 11 years – 2012-2022. The educational work with these kids has been one of the most meaningful experiences of my life.]
Sarah was one of my most recent graduates. Now a university student, she was here on a JNF mission. The flood of emotion was overwhelming. Liquids poured from my eyes and nose. The words we shared are for us alone, but I do want to share my emotions. Why is it that I did not cry at a memorial for over 400 massacred young adults but I did at the sight of one of my former students? I think it relates to the saying of our Rabbis: “Anyone who teaches a youth, it is as if they acquired a child.” Imagine the feeling of seeing one of your children after a break of two years! Maybe my reunion and the “what-was-lost-is-now-found” moment, sharpened the knowledge of the “loss-that-can-never-be-recovered” of those hundreds of young adults.
Story #2:
It was my third time visiting President Herzog. A man who is doing so much for our country, I felt the least I could do was to show my appreciation by giving him my book as a gift. At first, I felt weird about this, but his assistants assured me that this was quite acceptable and that the President would love it.
Then I saw Julia. We recognized each other right away although it did take us a moment to recall that she was a student of mine nine years ago! Many Jews have stepped up to the proverbial plate during this war. In this case, Julia returned to Israel to be a volunteer private assistant to the President for international affairs.
Once the President left the group, I received the “Now!” signal to run over to him in the private room to give him the gift. Julia happened to be in the room as well. In the brief moment we shared, I told him how emotional it was for me to be in his audience now for the third time, but as I was saying this I was overcome with inspiration. I informed him that this said emotion was eclipsed by the emotion and pride I felt towards my former student / his current assistant, Julia.
Leaving the premises, Julia caught up with me and asked why I shifted the focus to her and why I thought this was worth mentioning. The thing is, a farmer plants seeds and sees the results within a short time. An educator plants seeds, and may only see results many years later or maybe never. A farmer plants wheat and will see wheat sprout. An educator is never certain what will sprout.
I may have gifted my book to the President that day, but the gift that I will remember from that day is the one I received by seeing the living results of educational efforts (even if I played a small part in those efforts).
Apparently, at least for me, tears shed of pride are even more powerful than tears shed from sorrow.
Addendum:
300+: number of Iranian ballistic missiles and drones sent to destroy Israel.
It was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. The 11 PM news: “300 missiles are currently on their way to Israel. They should arrive in about 5 hours. Good night.”
Huh? You may not believe me. I certainly wouldn’t, but that is what it was. Always practical in times of extreme stress, I figured I might as well go to sleep… best to store up energy for the approaching unknown.
At 1 AM my windows rattled. Even before the sirens, I got the kids into the safe room, where we said Tehilim (Psalms) against tilim (missiles).
Many haven't realized it, but the destruction of the modern State has never been so close, present, and imminent. By now, you know the immediate outcome. And so we live to fight another day.
Life lesson #1: “Make it Count”
During the Seder, we “count tears.” We count our tears of suffering, symbolized with salt water, and we count tears over the necessity of our enemies’ deaths by removing drops of wine.
Hamas and their societal culture rejoice over destroying innocent lives, regardless of their own doom. They celebrate the death of others and their own.
Thank God that I belong to a nation and culture that celebrates life and freedom.
I pray that Hashem will continue to grant me the strength to defeat our enemies, kill them as necessary, rejoice in victory, and never rejoice in the loss of another human’s life.
One way to assure this is by always counting your blessings and also by counting your tears!
Life lesson #2: “Make it Count”
Back to LVN, one of our most profound experiences has been a singular moment I would create while “touring” with the kids through Mt. Herzl’s military cemetery. At a very specific spot and time, I would stop. My voice would possess an “other-worldliness” quality and you could have heard a pin drop. At that moment, I would become the first person to tell most of these kids, quite honestly, while taking a long second looking them each in the eyes, that a day would come when every one of them would die. (Hearing these words in a cemetery where most of the deceased are only a little bit older than you is quite impactful.)
True to my educational mantra, I would encourage them to ask “And therefore what?”
Despair? Heaven forbid!
And therefore… your life, regardless of its length… MAKE IT COUNT! (Which is a life lesson we would do well to remember at any age!)