The Power of Kindness

Rosh Chodesh Nissan. As the sliver of a new moon appears in the night sky, Israelis gather en masse to protest against the government. In their anger, frustration, and despair, they are fighting against fellow Israelis, threatening to shut down the country. Leaders in the opposition parties are fueling the fight, rubbing salt into already festering wounds.

The Israeli protestors rant and the enemies rub their hands in glee. We cannot forget that we are at war and the disunity within aids the enemy without. After 18 long months, hostages remain in captivity and with no release deal, the war against Hamas must continue. 

The enemy gathers force on all sides. Egypt is openly displaying its military strength in the Sinai and Syria is a terrifying question mark. After rockets were fired into Israel on Friday morning, the ceasefire with Lebanon is teetering. (My basement light is once again on and my shoes are by my bed in case I hear a siren and must run fast.) 

We are surrounded by uncertainty on the outside while we tear each other apart on the inside. It is as if Israel is captive in a ship pitching on churning waters. To make matters worse, people on one side of this ship are drilling holes in the deck, while on the other side, people are bailing out the water. Hold your breath.  

Below the ship’s deck and buried beneath mainstream media’s hopeless headlines, there are people who care for each other despite their differences. It is these people who keep Israel afloat and who heal unity one good deed at a time.

I recently read a story about people on a packed bus in Jerusalem. It was a chaotic night because of the protests and many roads were blocked. An older woman was frustrated and started shouting. A 16-year-old in ripped jeans and flip flops sat nearby. She tried to calm her down, offering water and telling her that everyone felt the same way. 

Over an hour passed without the bus moving and the same woman screamed, “I can’t handle this anymore. What’s with this country? How can people be like this?” Then she sobbed, “And I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten all day.”

A Hareidi woman sitting behind her jumped up and asked, “What do you like to eat?” This woman was also anxious. She had to get home to nurse her four-month-old baby.

“Pizza with mushrooms,” the older woman answered.

Without hesitating, the Hareidi woman said, “I’ll get it for you.” And she ran off the bus. The 16-year-old secular girl followed her enthusiastically.

After a few minutes, they returned with two huge pizzas and water, then went from seat to seat serving the food. The older woman was so touched, she told the Arab bus driver to remember how good people are to each other. Passengers offered to pay but the Hareidi woman refused money. Instead she asked them to pray for the health of her son. 

Disunity may have been seething outside, but inside this bus in Jerusalem, a wide spectrum of  Israelis (Hareidim, secular Jews, Arabs, teens and the elderly) were united and respectful, bringing light into the dark night. 

In another part of Israel, a siren wailed, signaling a barrage of ballistic missiles from the Houthis in Yemen. People scrambled to safety in bomb shelters. Those in cars stopped their vehicles and ran to the side of the road where they lay face down. One man got out of his car, unbuckled a tiny infant from a baby seat, then huddled against a wall with his infant cradled in his arms. A stranger ran up to them, put his arms around the young father’s shoulders and shielded the two of them with his body. People here care for each other as if they are one big family.

And every family has feuds, especially the family of Israel. My rooster crows in the early morning light on this day of the new moon.  The Torah compares the moon to the Jewish people. The moon wanes just like the Jews when they suffer war, inquisition, pogroms, antisemitism, and genocide. And then it waxes, gathering strength, just like the Jewish nation’s light seen through their intellect and unstoppable desire to make the world a better place. 

In this month of Nissan, when the moon reaches its fullness, the Jewish people will be commemorating Passover. Families and friends will gather at the Pesach seder to remember what happened to our ancestors when they were in bondage in Egypt. They will tell about how they were miraculously released by G-d and then emerged as a strong nation. Unfortunately, we still have hostages in real bondage in deep, dark tunnels of Gaza. 

As the moon waxes over this powerful Jewish month, may we gather up our broken, lost shards and become a strong, unified whole and may those hostages be released into freedom. 

Through each act of kindness, may we rekindle our internal light and see the spark in the other. And may this tiny, tattered, and torn Jewish nation once again float on calm waters, rising into a full orb that steadily glows above the darkness of a turbulent world.