The shops that lined Ben Yehuda were mostly shuttered as Lesley Zwick and her family meandered down the once bustling outdoor area. Those that were open had mostly reduced hours. Shopkeepers were unable to run their stores as they were called for reservist duty and with less buyers, there was no need to be open anyway. Families were suffering on lower income. Noticing this great need, the Zwick family set out to make a difference on their recent trip to Israel during Chanukah.
Lesley had originally planned to celebrate her son’s bar mitzvah in Israel over the holiday, but the trip was framed very differently. Their itinerary was packed with exploration, tourism and venturing out to various parts of the country as it would be the first time visiting for some of her children, but when the war broke out, they were forced to change their plans.
They opted to still go to Israel, but to instead make it a simple Torah reading at the Kotel on the seventh day of Chanukah. The emptiness of the courtyard eerily echoed with the shadows of those not there and the piles of prayer books, lining the rows of overflowing shelves, were the opposite of the scant crowd.
They finally found a store that was open and Lesley walked around, fingers draping across the tips of polished silver candlesticks and ornate glassware, feeling the shopkeeper’s eyes trailing after her every move, darting and hopeful, desperate for a sale. He was quiet, holding his breath in anticipation for a big purchase and gratefully engaged in dialogue with the family, showcasing the most beautiful Chanukiah. He mentioned that he had another store that was currently closed as not enough people were shopping and he had nobody to run it, and so to conserve his resources, he focused all of his energy and time on that one.
When she paid for the Chanukiah, the owner gripped her husband’s hands in his own, squeezing his fingers in thanks, those darting eyes now settling into the depths of their own, swimming together in a sea of gratitude. Lesley sensed the impact of their purchase; that it was more than a sale, it was a brick added to the foundation of his family, of his pride and of his ability to provide.
Understanding how each purchase could truly create meaning, Lesley later posted it on her social media and asked if any of her friends would want a similar item, hoping to boost the sales at the store. A few friends reached out and sent money, requesting specific things she had posted online. Lesley went back to that original shop, the one that had sold her the Chanukiah a few days before, and casually said to the owner, “I’d like to buy the same Chanukiah …”
There should have been many customers in the interim, and many purchases and conversations with the store owner that would have blurred the memory of those that perused the shop and the items they had purchased. Transactions should have occurred and many shekels should have been exchanged. Lesley knew that here too, were lucite shelves with items that went untouched, their surfaces now settling with dust, no fingers to trace abstract shapes, leaving pictorial hieroglyphics or cryptic messages … the only communication was between them and the shopkeeper. Without any further words, he turned around and knowingly procured the very same Chanukiah as if she were the only customer all week.
And so instead of making it a trip to learn and explore the country of Israel, it became a journey of love, to get to know the land and the people through the act of giving, purchasing items to boost the economy, to boost the morale, to let our brethren know that even from afar, we care, we show up, we engage. When we invest ourselves in a cause, when we truly strip away boundaries and become immersed in the service of others, the givers also become receivers, and receivers become givers, making this trip the best possible gift, the memories of the empty spaces echoing with an indescribable fullness.
Sarah Abenaim is a writer, life coach, and journaling workshop curator who lives with her husband and kids. To be featured in one of her “Out There, In Here” stories, please reach out to her at [email protected] or to David Siegel at [email protected]. To learn more about how you can make an impact in the war effort, check out tinyurl.com/rinat-volunteeringinsrael.
