Chol Hamoed trips are always a source of fun and lasting memories, but this particular outing will be remembered forever. Given the gorgeous weather in October, we decided to head to Long Branch, New Jersey, for a day at the beach. I settled down to enjoy a sandwich, and casually removed my wedding and engagement rings to wash, placing them on my dress. After I finished eating, I got up to join my son for a game of catch.
As a few hours passed, we made our way back to the car, cleared off as much sand as possible, buckled up, put on Waze for our drive home, and that’s when it happened—I glanced at my hands and let out a gasp so loud that my husband jumped, asking, “What’s wrong?” I replied, “My rings.” He tried to reassure me, saying, “It’s OK, we’ll figure it out.” That moment, I realized that whatever unfolded was part of a greater plan, and if we didn’t find them, it would be OK. Baruch Hashem, we were all healthy and safe, and while the rings held considerable monetary value, they reminded us of what truly mattered. I was fully aware that finding those rings in the beach sand was like looking for a needle in a haystack, or even more challenging, two rings in the vast expanse of sand.
We retraced our steps to the spot where we had been sitting, using the sizable hole my kids had dug as a reference. Our friends (shoutout to Doron, Ashley, Leah, Rafi, Bella, Joey, and baby Ezra Greenspan) joined us to help in the search. In this moment, we decided to impart some valuable life lessons to both ourselves and our kids:
- Despite our sadness over losing our valuable rings, we maintained gratitude for our health and happiness.
- Even though the odds of finding the rings in the sand seemed slim to none, we believed that Hashem could work wonders, turning those slim odds into a 50/50 chance. Either He wanted us to find them, or He didn’t.
- It was my 9-year-old son, Dovi, who first shouted “Gam Zu L’tovah”—“This too is for the good” right when he heard the news. We embraced the belief that everything happens for a reason, contributing to a grander scheme that ultimately served our good.
- We emphasized the importance of davening and acts of charity, reminding ourselves that Hashem listens to each of our prayers.
After approximately 25 minutes of searching, a kind woman named Cindy came down to the beach from the boardwalk and approached us. She saw our determined search and asked, “Is there anything I can do to help? Are you missing something? Should I call Chaverim for assistance?”
This was just the beginning of Cindy’s acts of kindness. She went out of her way, spotting fellow Jews on the beach in need, and felt compelled to offer her assistance.
Thinking it was a great idea, we contemplated if someone in Chaverim had a metal detector we could borrow. Cindy made the call for us, and while they spread the message, it seemed no one in Chaverim had a metal detector. We also attempted to approach a beach patrol truck in the hope of borrowing a metal detector, but they didn’t have one either.
With no other choice, we resumed our search on our hands and knees, and Cindy returned to her husband on the bench, deeply concerned about our situation.
Cindy then approached me once more, asking if she could go get ice cream for my kids. I initially declined, telling her it was so appreciated but unnecessary, but she insisted and headed to the store to buy ice cream, even though it turned out to be closed.
We narrowed down our search area to a 10-foot by10-foot space where we had been sitting, convinced that this was where the rings must be. We were searching and searching, ready to give up and call it a day, and understand and accept that Hashem’s plans might just be for us to never get these rings back.
Before we knew it Cindy returned once more, approximately 30 minutes later, with an update. She had been reaching out to people and managed to locate someone who knew a person with a metal detector. She called him on our behalf, and while he was about to have dinner, she persuaded him by offering to pay for his dinner if he could come quickly. He agreed and said he could be there in just 20 minutes.
Sure enough 20 minutes later, Cindy returned to us with the news, “He’s here!”
Cindy introduced us to “Dennis, the Jewelry Finder,” handing him some cash and saying, “This is for your dinner; I told you I’d cover it.” She was paying for his dinner in exchange for his assistance in finding my lost rings. The incredible part was that Cindy didn’t even know me; all she knew was that I was Jewish, and she was too, and she was paying for his dinner on my behalf!
Cindy then turned to me and said, “It’s getting late, your kids must be starving. I need to go drive my husband to Mincha, and I’m going to get you a pie of pizza for your kids. I’ll be back soon.”
Once again, I protested, saying, “No, please don’t trouble yourself. You’ve already done so much!” But, of course, she insisted and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
As she walked back toward the boardwalk, Dennis began his search in our designated area. Astonishingly, within just 30 seconds, he said, “I found the first one!” My diamond ring had been located! I spotted Cindy in the distance and couldn’t contain my joy. I screamed, “Cindy! He found it!” She turned around and began jumping up and down. I started running toward her, and she toward me. When we reached each other, we shared a big hug and burst into tears because this is what it means to help a fellow Jew. Cindy embodied the spirit of chesed, going above and beyond to assist someone she had never met before. She took our problem to heart and stayed with us until the end, continually suggesting new ideas. She made this her priority. This is the essence of “Mi Kiamcha Yisroel,” the incredible unity among our people.
Dennis, not to be outdone, continued his search and found my wedding band within the next few seconds. This day taught me and my family many valuable lessons about kindness and going the extra mile when someone needs your help, as well as about having faith and emunah in Hashem and accepting everything for the best. It was a memorable Chol Hamoed experience we will forever treasure. Thank you Cindy, thank you Dennis, thank you Greenspans, Kahane’s, and my family and friends who davened. Thank you to my husband, Yaakov, for keeping me calm and assured that everything will be OK and great no matter what the outcome is. Thank you to my kids Dovi, Chayala, Zevi, Sarah and Yosef who helped us search and waited patiently for two and a half hours during the search, but most of all, Thank You Hashem!
Dahlia and Yaakov Berman live in Teaneck with their five kids. Dahlia works as a sonographer at Refuah Health Center in Monsey, and her husband Yaakov is a rebbe in TABC.
