There are moments when life whispers in our ear, and there are moments when it simply shouts: don't wait. Don't postpone. Don't miss the people and hearts that surround us.
I will share some stories with you, most of them from recent days, different stories that all come together, each in its own way, into a single simple message: to be present in life. To see. To hug. To feel those around us, and especially our own hearts.
So we won't regret it.
On the Sunday before Rosh Hashanah, despite my reserve duty, I traveled to complete a lecture I had committed to at a school in the north of the country. I stood in front of my 12th-grade students, and as we were nearing the end of the lecture, I said I wanted to say a few words to summarize it. And suddenly – a hand rises in the first row. A young student, with moist eyes, asked to speak.
In a quiet but penetrating voice, he whispered, "My father passed away two weeks ago from a heart attack. I feel like I wasn't in touch with him enough... You're right about everything you said – that you need to be in touch with your father and mother, with your grandparents. I'm so sorry I wasn't there enough."
His words cut to the heart. I stood before him, tears choking my throat, and asked if I could hug him. He jumped up from his seat and ran toward me. I hugged him with a heart-to-heart embrace – a hug that words cannot contain.
I picked up the microphone and said in a choked voice: "I've run out of words... I have nothing more to add."
How important it is not to wait. To pick up the phone, send a message, hug, stay in touch. Don't wait for the moment when it's already impossible.
Tears of Grace
About two weeks ago, a fighter from the Chashmonaim Brigade approached me – a lone soldier who came from abroad, the child of a large family with 12 siblings. He lives in Jerusalem in an apartment with four other lone soldiers. But instead of beds – they sleep on simple mattresses on the floor.
I contacted a friend who has a hangar full of equipment from places that are restocking – and he donates the old equipment to those who need it. I told him about those soldiers and asked for three used beds. His response caught me off guard: "Single soldiers, who risk their lives for us, don't sleep on used beds. I'm buying them three new beds. Send me the soldier's number and I'll coordinate everything with him."
I said thank you to him, and the tears just flowed, without any warning. Because deep down – this is the people of Israel. That's most of us. And when we choose to open our eyes and see this good – it intensifies, spreads, and ignites more and more hearts. This is the movement we all need to connect with: a movement of kindness, of giving, of simple love that connects us to each other.
What are the chances?
A few days ago, a close friend called me and said he had a family member – a clinical social worker, an expert in post-traumatic stress disorder – who had retired and wanted to continue treating soldiers injured in the war on a volunteer basis. Since he speaks English, he prefers to work with English-speaking soldiers.
I contacted several friends connected to the military and to the treatment of veterans suffering from PTSD in order to explore the possibility of incorporating him into this important work.
Two days after that friend's referral, a soldier called me. A soldier in a special unit in the IDF. He said that on October 7th, he was a young volunteer for Magen David Adom (MDA) and rushed to the south of the country where he experienced difficult things, and now it's starting to surface and bother him. But he doesn't want to leave his role as a fighter, so he asked me to refer him to a professional outside the military framework.
I said to him with a half-smile, "You'll be telling me next that you speak English too..." And he answers, surprised: "How did you know?" "Really, my parents are from the US, and I speak English..."
Of course – I immediately connected the dots. But tell me, what are the chances of something like this happening? It's simply unbelievable how the Creator of the universe above arranges the precise connections at the precise time.
And the last story is about a knock on the door that changed lives
A friend who was a shaliach in the US told me about a family that immigrated to Israel from the US. They were unable to integrate into the local community where they lived, and decided to leave the country, with only a few days remaining before their flight.
And on Friday – a knock on the door. They went to open the door, and at the entrance stood a couple of neighbors with flowers, cakes for Shabbos, and big smiles on their faces. "We are so happy that you moved here and live in the neighborhood," they said warmly.
One knock on the door – simple, spontaneous – caused the family to stop, rethink, and stay in the country.
Because sometimes all you need is someone to remind you that you are wanted, that you are not alone.
The heart that connects all the dots
Although these are four seemingly unrelated stories, different moments, and people who didn't know each other, one thread connects them all: opening the heart to connection, embrace, and bonding.
Whether it's a student asking for an encouraging hug, a friend buying new beds for soldiers he's never met, a miraculous connection between a therapist and a mentally wounded soldier, or neighbors opening their doors with cakes for Shabbos – it's the same simple call: to see the other. To feel. Act now.
Don't wait for the day when it's already impossible. Pick up the phone. Knock on the door. Embrace. Say a kind word. Because in the end, what remains is not how much we accomplished – but how much we loved.
אורי שכטר
