So there I stood davening that Tuesday morning, knowing that during those very moments the police were invading my son’s settlement.
I finished Shemoneh Esrei and quietly called my son.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Sounding relieved, he responded: “Dad, You’re not going to believe this! The police just left. They destroyed six uninhabited houses. But they left mine, and actually smiled at me as they walked by.”
“I know,” I said. “Avraham, you received your miracle, and I received my next column for The Jewish Press!”
This past Shabbos I ran into that rabbinical-looking fellow. “I really want to apologize for taking that aliyah from you,” he said.
“Are you kidding?” I answered. “I told you I bought it to give to you. I gave you a ‘You Shall be Given’ aliyah, and I was given a ‘You Shall be Given’ aliyah!”
And then I explained to him what a “giving” I got as a reward. Through the power of my giving, the police spared my son’s house.
There are many charming stories about our charming nation; this is just one of them.