Slice of Life

My husband and I just returned from a trip to New York. Initially, I had little interest in traveling due to the current situation in Israel, but my husband twisted my arm encouraged me to take a break from it all and visit family. We made sure to purchase refundable tickets, because, as anyone who has lived during uncertain times knows, one never knows what each hour may bring.

Dvir, a “regular” chayal in the IDF, shared with me his experience of the chagim in Gaza. Dvir’s unit returned to Gaza for the fourth time since the war began, on the morning after the three-day Rosh HaShanah holiday. They were stationed near the Egyptian border where it was quiet – until it wasn’t.

These are crazy times. There’s no way to know what each day will bring. Sometimes the news is good, and sometimes it’s awful. Often, it’s both. The day Nasrallah was killed felt like a great victory. Even though it happened on Shabbos, word spread quickly. My son had been eager to share the news when he arrived for Shabbos lunch with his family. A secular neighbor in his building had placed an announcement in the elevator so his religious neighbors could hear about what had happened. But we already knew—someone had announced it in shul.

As much as the IDF tries to prevent the occurrence of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), many soldiers suffer from their experiences on the battlefield. Some have flashbacks. Others are unable to sleep at night. Some are numb. Everyone in Israel cares about the physical and psychological welfare of our chayalim. Many try to help them deal with their trauma.

Back in the ICU, Karen met the family of Tzvika, a father of three who had lost both of his legs and an arm in the war. His entire family brought in Shabbos by singing Kabbalas Shabbos together. She had never seen anything like it. While she waited for Aryeh to come out of surgery, a woman in pants and cowboy boots approached her and introduced herself as the head of the urology department. She told Karen that she, too, has a 24-year-old son serving in the army and she treated Aryeh like her son when he was on the operating table. She asked Karen to tell her about Aryeh. She explained that, as they operated on him, the doctors felt a ruach chazak, a strong spirit, emanating from Aryeh. She wanted to hear about him.

Karen made aliyah with her family 27 years ago, filled with excitement and idealism. Like most people living in Israel, she never imagined we’d be in the state of war we now find ourselves in. Additionally, as a member of the chareidi community, she didn’t expect that she would one day have a son serving as a combat soldier in the army. But life is full of surprises. With humor combined with authenticity, Karen inspired a standing-room-only crowd of women in Ramat Beit Shemesh as she shared her experience of discovery and growth.