Miracles surround us. All day. Every day. We wake up to incredible stories, and we go to sleep hearing even more. We barely process one before another one unfolds.
Last week, Hagai Segal, an Israeli author and journalist, quoted the midrash that states: “a maidservant at the sea (Yam Suf) saw what even Yechezkel did not see in his prophecy.” He explained that since the day of the attack on Iran, we are all maidservants at the sea, witnessing things that have never been seen before. Baruch Hashem!
Many sirens sounded last week. The Iron Dome intercepted many missiles, but not all. There were casualties, tragically, mostly in Bat Yam, Haifa, and Tel Aviv. Every life lost is a tragedy, yet the number of fatalities and injuries is considered low, given the types of missiles launched and the sheer volume of attacks we’ve endured. At Soroka Hospital in Be’er Sheva, a department that took a direct hit had been evacuated just one day earlier, saving countless lives.
We’ve developed a rhythm around alerts: a quick check for location, a rush to the safe room, then back to whatever we were doing: cooking, working, learning. It’s incredible how normal this has become. People joke, plan meals, and conduct meetings from home. But beneath it all, the weight of the war is always present.
While the world, and Israel itself, are focused on the war with Iran, other remarkable things have been happening. The Golani Brigade eliminated a terror cell in Gaza. Yes, we are still fighting Hamas. Hospitals across the country have been reorganized to provide better protection for patients and staff. The hospital where my daughter recently gave birth has a fully fortified maternity ward. Rambam Hospital in Haifa relocated its maternity unit to an underground emergency bunker designed to withstand missile strikes. Just last week, triplets were born in that shelter.
On Sunday, we awoke to the stunning news that Fordow was no more. The United States had dropped bunker-busters on Iranian nuclear sites. While this didn’t end the war, it removed the looming nuclear threat that has hung over us for decades.
Rav Shmuel Eliyahu, Chief Rabbi of Tzfat and a member of the Chief Rabbinate Council, announced that Tachanun should not be recited that day. Instead, he called on the public to say Mizmor L’Sodah and the brachah of HaTov v’HaMeitiv. Some even said Hallel. Indeed, Channel 14 opened its broadcast with the brachah of HaTov v’HaMeitiv.
This extraordinary development was, predictably, followed by another barrage. While some missiles got through and people were injured, nobody was killed. Baruch Hashem. Unbelievable!
Yet things are still far from normal. Only essential workers are permitted to travel to work. As one myself, I admit that I feel nervous each time I commute. But I’m strengthened by the emunah p’shutah of my special needs clients, who speak with simple conviction about how Hashem watches over us.
We live with uncertainty. Will we be able to attend our friend’s wedding? Is the underground hall truly safe? Will we get a full night’s sleep? Can we attend a family bris milah? Even a few days in advance, these questions feel impossible to answer.
And now, as I write these words, the Home Front Command has lifted all restrictions. This phase of the war is over. Will this be a true and lasting ceasefire? Time will tell.
We know that even in Mitzrayim, where B’nei Yisrael were enslaved, they continued to bear children and build families. They chose life. That same legacy lives on in Israel today, through every newborn baby and every wedding planned in a fortified hall.
Through it all, the spirit of am Yisrael shines. Videos show Israelis standing among ruins, coping with humor, music, and laughter. Business owners vow to rebuild. A pilot who flew in the Iran campaign returned home to name his newborn daughter. In Assuta Ashdod Hospital, babies born this week are being wrapped in onesies printed with Israeli flags, IDF insignia, and the words Am Yisrael Chai. And in Bat Yam, a massive sign was hung on the building where a missile struck directly, emblazoned with an Israeli flag and the words:
“Bat Yam is strong. Israel is victorious!”
Last week, my niece gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. As he entered the world, the booms of missiles echoed in the background. Just as in Mitzrayim, the more they afflicted us, the more we multiplied and grew stronger. Our enemies still seek to destroy us. But we respond with life. And with strength.
Am Yisrael Chai!
Please continue to daven for the recovery of the wounded, the safe return of the hostages, the success and protection of our chayalim and all security personnel, and for the safety of all of am Yisrael.
Suzie Steinberg, (nee Schapiro), CSW, is a native of Kew Gardens Hills and resident of Ramat Beit Shemesh who publishes articles regularly in various newspapers and magazines about life in general, and about life in Israel in particular. Her recently published children’s book titled Hashem is Always With Me can be purchased in local Judaica stores as well as online. Suzie can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. and would love to hear from you.
