Last month, for the first time in many years of writing for this newspaper, I did not submit my monthly column.
The reason is that my wife and I made aliyah and began our new life living in the Rechavia neighborhood of Yerushalayim.
I keep asking myself, how many Jews over the last 1,955 years since the Temple was destroyed, have been able to wake up to her beauty and walk Jerusalem’s golden streets?
This is not the first time I conceived of moving here. Around 1978, when my late wife and I were newly married and living in Gateshead, we decided to make Eretz Yisrael our home.
We filled out all the forms and submitted them to the nearest Jewish Agency office, which was in my home town of Glasgow. When we received a reply it was to inform us that they were in between “shlichim” and that they had passed on our application to their Manchester office whose indefatigable shaliach was now servicing the needs of the North West of England AND Scotland.
I can no longer remember his name but (let us assume…not unreasonably, that it was Oded) wrote to arrange to meet us in a hotel in the adjacent city of Newcastle Upon Tyne.
My wife Joy and I arrived and met the smiling Israeli who surveyed our application as we sipped glasses of water.
Oded looked up and addressed me.
“Yehudah. I see here that you have written how much you will be bringing when you make aliyah.”
I smiled and nodded.
“Yehudah, You have written that you are bringing £1,000.”
Again, I smiled and nodded.
Oded smiled too and began sympathetically…
“Listen Yehudah. I am here to advise you. But to do that properly, I have to know all the facts. So tell me Yehudah, how much money are you really bringing?”
I repeated that we were bringing £1,000 (which was every penny we had) and Oded tried again.
“Shemati Yehudah. You are not understanding me. I’ll be honest with you. When we came to the UK for shlichut, we also had to say how much money we were taking with us.”
He leaned in conspiratorially and said in a low voice.
“We also didn’t tell the truth!”
He revealed that he and all his pals embarking on this role had begged and borrowed as much as they could to buy up Marks and Spencer’s department store (think Macy’s) for the next three generations of their families.
Oded continued, as he smiled reassuringly.
“So you can tell me. How much are you really bringing with you?”
Again I told him £1,000. This time he believed me.
He explained that our plan was impossible. We simply didn’t have enough. His advice was that we should put our plans on indefinite hold.
There were grants available for those who made aliyah from what was termed “Distressed Countries,” those behind the Iron Curtain and Arab countries who came with nothing. Israel simply didn’t recognize a category needing help among poor Ashkenazi Jews.
My wife and I went home with our dream crushed. After a day, I recovered from my disappointment and wrote a letter (my wife thought I was mad) detailing exactly what had happened, to the Prime Minister, Menachem Begin.
To her amazement (and mine too) two weeks later, his personal secretary replied explaining that the PM had read my letter and was very distressed. He had asked her to pass it on to the headquarters of the Jewish Agency in Jerusalem adding that he hoped to meet me in Israel soon!
Two weeks after that, I received a letter from the headquarters of the Jewish Agency in Jerusalem. They confirmed they had received the PM’s letter and were passing it on to the “Anglia” desk of the Jewish Agency.
Two weeks later, I received a letter from the Anglia desk in Jerusalem. They confirmed they had received the PM’s letter and were passing it on to the Glasgow Office of the Jewish Agency.
The Glasgow Office wrote to inform us that they were in between “shlichim” and that they had passed on our application to their Manchester office whose shaliach was still servicing the needs of the North West of England AND Scotland.
He wrote to explain that he had just taken over the post of shaliach of Manchester. The previous shaliach had now returned to l’aretz with the entire contents of Manchester’s Marks and Spencers. The new shaliach had been informed from Jerusalem that we were “interested” in aliyah and perhaps we could meet him in a hotel in Newcastle to discuss it. We were right back at square one.
Most Israelis I have ever told this story to, finish the ending for me. Honestly, Israel and aliyah can drive you crazy…
But…
Three days ago, I took a picture to a quaint and tiny framing store, a couple of streets from our apartment.
I entered and the delightful lady who has owned and worked there for over thirty years, greeted me warmly.
As we chatted, the door opened and another woman entered. The owner asked if she could serve this lady first and I answered that I didn’t mind at all.
As the two spoke I heard that her son had recently returned from Gaza minus a hand, an eye, and totally blind in his remaining eye.
I interrupted to say how distressed I was to hear what had happened. The store owner looked at me and explained that her friend had lost another son in the army, some years before.
The tears filled my eyes giving the reply my voice would not as I found myself unable to speak.
This Modern Orthodox mother told me that her son and the girl he knew who had become his fiancé after the loss of his hand and his blindness, were in America. He was telling his story and raising money for wounded Israeli soldiers (at that stage he had raised over $2 million).
The secular shop owner said. “That’s what I LOVE about living here, the “shituf”…the Sharing. Even when it’s a sad story…we all feel the sadness together.”
The mother said, “Exactly. Achdut! That is the most important thing for Am Yisrael!”
Her son tells his audiences that when he woke up after the surgery that removed his hand and eye, all he saw was blackness.
He says it reminded him of the dark screen in a movie theatre after the film has finished and two large words are written there, “The End.”
Two weeks later, this blind Jewish hero said that he still saw his blindness being like a dark movie screen, only this time, the words he saw there were, “TO BE CONTINUED…”
I’m so excited that I made it to Eretz Yisrael. That soldier’s story is the story of the people of Israel and the land of Israel.
As difficult, uncertain and dark as the current situation is, it isn’t the end (chas v’shalom). Our story is the same as it has always been; Guaranteed by Hashem…To be continued.
I am blessed that I can be a part of that story and that shituf…that sharing, in and with the people and the land of Israel.
