Israel. The Land of daily miracles, and surprises. Happy surprises. Surprising surprises. And amazing ones.
Below are two true “typical” untypical occurrences that happened on regular, nothing special days in Jerusalem. Each story, in its own way, reinforced my recognition and appreciation of seeing emunah in daily life.
I Was Waiting For You
This is a true story that happened to me several years ago, but it is a story that I will never forget. Because of it, I now have a “thing” about locking front doors, though, truth to tell, I was always careful about making sure that they were locked before leaving my house.
After all, one never knows.
We had been living in our Jerusalem apartment for approximately two years. My husband and I had a Friday night appointment one evening, and we were hurrying to leave our apartment and get to our destination on time.
As we stepped into the elevator of our apartment building, I asked him if he had locked the front door of our apartment. He answered in the affirmative.
Being innately careful about the need to lock doors, as our elevator descended I repeated my query of whether or not he had locked our front door.
Yes, he assured me. Nothing to worry about. He had locked the front door.
Fine.
Quite a few hours later we returned home to our Jerusalem apartment.
I don’t know what made me try the front door handle before putting my key in the front door lock, but I did. And the door just opened. [Yes, he had locked the door. The problem was that, though his key had turned in the lock, the door had not been completely closed when the key was turned and so the door had not in point of fact been actually locked.]
I charily pushed open the front door and walked in, my husband close behind me. And, facing us, sitting at the head of our very large, heavy mahogany dining room table, next to our full-of-silver silver cabinet, sat a very large chassid.
A big man, he was dressed in a large shtreimel and a long black coat.
As we walked into the room, this large stranger smiled and said, “I came to collect tzedakah money for a needy bride. Your door was open, but no one was home. I was afraid to leave your door unlocked, so I waited until you returned.”
At which point he got up and walked out.
We were so shocked to see this huge stranger sitting at our dining room table that till today we do not remember whether or not we gave him any tzedakah money — or any money for the hours he had spent as a shomer, guarding our home and thus not being able to go around collecting the tzedakah money for which he had come.
But one thing I do know: only in Israel could a stranger spend his entire evening babysitting a stranger’s house so that no dishonest strangers should enter it.
Boy, was that a lesson in Hashem always watching over us. True emunah in everyday life!
It’s Cheaper Over There
Our small neighborhood falafel store has a “charge it” plan for people who often buy falafel there. What is a “charge it” plan for a small, neighborhood business in Israel? They simply write down your name and the amount you owe them in a small notebook.
Since my friend Channie P. (who made aliyah five years earlier) often buys falafel in that falafel store, she has a “charge account” there. The store also sell a type of whipped ice cream from a special machine, which Channie never tried.
One motzei Shabbos, her (large) family and (many) guests had an urge for ice cream. Knowing that the falafel store opens motzei Shabbos, and that they sell this whipped ice cream, Channie ran out of her house without taking any money with her in order to purchase the ice cream there.
However, when the falafel man told Channie how expensive her order would be, Channie balked. She hadn’t realized that this whipped ice cream would be so much more expensive than regular blocks of ice cream. And she was buying it for a lot of people.
Seeing the expression on Channie’s face, the falafel man said to her, “Go over to the nut store next door. They also sell ice cream, but the regular kind. The ice cream will be cheaper over there.”
So, thanking the falafel man, Channie went next door to buy the other ice cream.
The falafel man had been correct: the ice cream in this store was only 24 shekels for an entire package, much cheaper than the whipped ice cream that the falafel man was selling. Except that, at this point, Channie suddenly remembered that she didn’t have any money with her — and she did not feel like going all the way home to get her wallet.
So, Only in Israel, Channie went back to the falafel store and told him, “You were right. The ice cream is cheaper over there. I know this is chutzpah, but, since I don’t feel like having to return home in order to get some money, would you give me the amount of money that I need, and charge it to my bill?”
The falafel man answered, “Ayn bayah [no problem],” and he gave her the money that she needed so that she could buy a product which he also sold, even though she was buying it, cheaper, at a near-by competitor. [And it had been his idea!]
As Channie finished telling me this amazing “daily life situation in Israel” story, she suddenly stopped and exclaimed, “My goodness! That I would even think to ask a store owner such a thing! Really, Only in Israel!”
And what a clear example of being able to trust that Hashem will make everything work out ok when you’re trying to do a mitzvah!
Based on articles from On Cab Drivers, Shopkeepers, and ‘Strangers’ by Tzvia Ehrlich-Klein.
