If one wants to be a bit closer to heaven, he should come to the combined minyan of a Hebrew school and synagogue. There he’ll find the voices of children echoing with the mourners’ Kaddish and ringing with the prayers of those devoted few who begin their morning by attending services, regardless of rain or snow.
On December 6, 2007, the second day of Chanukah, I was fortunate to participate together with my husband, Meier, in a minyan shared by the Manhattan Beach Jewish Center and the Yeshiva of Manhattan Beach. I was there for the yahrzeit of Meier’s brother, Nehemya, who died in Israel’s War of Independence. As we arrived in the frosty morning, a group of students from the Yeshiva of Manhattan Beach were already there. They battled the cold and their drowsiness by drinking the hot chocolate tenderly set out for them by their teacher.
Soon we entered the large room containing the ark and the bimah. The new and beautiful chanukiah, donated by Rubin Margules, president of Manhattan Beach Jewish Center, drew our attention and admiration. The students, some before and some after their bar mitzvah, quietly took their places. The mechitzah to set off the women’s section was in place. Boxes of tissues, donated by one of the worshipers, were positioned around.
Shortly after, a mother and her twin sons bearing refreshments arrived. Rabbi Zev Goldstein, the principal, greeted them warmly. The boys had celebrated their bar mitzvahs the week before. Now they were to receive aliyot for the first time in front of this group. My husband, one of the steady morning prayer attendees, was given the tribute of reciting the birkat ha-shachar (morning blessings) honoring the memory of Nehemya.
Nehemya had belonged to the Plugah Datit (religious squad), number 33 of the Alexandroni Brigade. The soldiers in that religious unit came from different ethnic backgrounds. Some were Sabras; others hailed from Yemen, Turkey, Morocco, Poland and Italy. There were also several newly arrived Holocaust survivors from Europe.
They participated in the battle for Jerusalem and then as a group were transferred to defend the Negev. There, military personnel from different squadrons remembered seeing Chanukah candles on the roadside. The candles were lit by members of the Plugah Datit before they went to fight the battle by Irak El Menashia in the Negev – from where they never returned.
An Auschwitz survivor, Nehemya died with them, his dream of living in the land of Israel fulfilled for only a brief time. A number of unfortunate Holocaust survivors were drafted for the defense of the country shortly after their arrival. With little time for proper registration and identification, those who perished had gravestones marked only by a first name or nickname.
These young soldiers were dedicated and ready to fight for the idea of Zionism. In a letter dated February 22, 1948, Nehemya wrote: “We have no option but to win, otherwise, God forbid, we may all perish. To die we have two choices, as heroes or as our brothers died in Europe.”
At the Manhattan Beach minyan, the students who participated were well disciplined. No loud noises disrupted the morning prayers. The atmosphere was one of respect and devotion. Soon, it was the turn of the twin bar mitzvah boys to receive their aliyot. As I watched them, my thoughts dwelled on the tragic fate of Nehemya, only nineteen when he was killed in battle. Serving as a medic, he died next to the wounded comrades he tried to help. The sight of the twin boys proudly becoming participants in the Jewish faith was oddly comforting. I later learned that the boys’ great-grandmother was Hungarian (as I am).
When the service ended, the group of students surrounded the post-bar mitzvah boys with congratulations. As I watched their bright and joyful faces, I could not help but feel that the Chanukah candles lit so many years ago by those soldiers from the Plugah Datit continue to give off a mystical glow in the hearts and minds of the young boys who formed part of this special minyan in their memory.