Shabbat January 17, marks 1 year since I moved to Beit Tovei Ha’ir. It’s very fitting that this anniversary comes out on Shabbat, my favorite day of the week.
After candle lighting I daven in my regular seat here, even on Friday evenings, something I was never used to in America. I get to Shule early on Shabbat morning because I don’t want to miss anything. Many times we have a Chazzan davening, and the Parsha is always read loud and clear. For the last few years before I moved here, I was unable to go to Shule because of the steep uphill road from my apartment. From the time I was a young child going to The Young Israel with my father, I have always loved going to shule on Shabbat, (I brought my daughters up that way as well.) I have now come full circle.
One of the extraordinary events took place on the last day of Chanukah. It was billed as a day of fun for grandchildren and great grandchildren. It was spectacular. The day was divided into shifts so that everyone’s family could enjoy. My family ranged in age from 15 to 21 months and everyone had a blast. There was olive oil making, and a room full of arcade games, so many different ones that there wasn’t much waiting for any one of them, a family race, and for the older ones, brain games and puzzles. Of course, there was a steady supply of Sufganiot distributed to eager young hands (and some older hands too). This was organized by Yael Ben David. She is the remarkable Culture Director here, and the programs she arranges are always very good. But this one was outstanding, and will be long remembered by my family. Thank you, Yael.
There are about an equal number of Hebrew speakers and English speakers, and I have many friends in both languages. I have conversations with everyone, and I have discovered many interesting things. Everyone is elderly, and most have grey hair, but their eyes shine, especially when they speak of their past. A Holocaust survivor told me how as a young child she stood in front of a Gestapo soldier. He looked at her with pointed gun and turned around and walked away. We have fighters from the War of Independence, and the 6 Day War, living here. We have a Rabbi who was a police officer, and a scientist and some doctors and nurses. We have Rabbis who were once amazing pulpit Rabbis. I hear beautiful stories about them from their wives. There are some women who were actively part of Chabad and some who are still active.
We have the founders of a very popular girls seminary living here and the wife is still connected. A lady who was a professional seamstress still sews today. There are retired teachers who sometimes give a lecture. We have an accountant whose clients included Kosher slaughterhouses, and he can tell some very interesting things. We have an artist, whose art is famous. And we have Morris (Moish) Inker who worked for my father in the newspaper printing department for 4 decades. The truth is, everyone has a story. If you sit down together you can hear the most remarkable life events.
One of my great grandchildren on a recent visit, said to me, Savta you live with so many old people. I answered, we may look old, and some are not well anymore, but if you ask them for their story, you will be fascinated. I am reminded of something that I tried to teach my children, so many years ago. If someone is grumpy and very unfriendly, they probably have a lot of aggravation. You can still smile and say Good Morning. Sometimes they might even return the greeting.
I give thanks to Hakadosh Baruch Hu every day for watching over me and my whole family, and for bringing me back to live in Jerusalem. And thank you to Beit Tovei Ha’ir for enriching my life.
