Lots going on. Work. Wedding plans. Pesach prep. Gaza. Lebanon. Iran. If not for my running between the office, supermarket, and bridal salon, I could fill my time worrying. But there’s no time for that now. Anxiety does seep in from time to time, but we move forward and trust in Hashem.
Last week, my husband had business to take care of overseas. With the threat of Iran looming, I was not thrilled about the timing of his trip. But you have to do what you have to do. Baruch Hashem, he returned before the bad guys struck.
All week long, as the army and security personnel braced themselves for who knows what, many people went about their lives as usual. Then came the detailed intelligence reports: A strike is expected within the next 24-48 hours. They will strike in the north or the south. Good to be prepared. Thanks for the warning.
We heard a few planes over Shabbos, as we usually do. When I was deep in the post-Shabbos pre-Pesach cleanup, word went out that Iran had launched hundreds of drones in our direction. Lovely. These were not the drones you sometimes see getting caught in a tree on the street or the kind that takes aerial photographs at a wedding. These drones were pilotless warplanes meant to destroy and kill, Rachamana litzlan. We were sitting ducks with no time to sit. Pesach is also heading our way, with or without the threat of Iran.
The Home Front Command came out with new directives. All educational activities, Pesach camps, and youth movements were canceled. Gatherings were limited to 1,000 people only. All public shelters were opened.
Many people stayed up at night, waiting for the impact predicted to take place between 2 and 4 a.m. Others (like me) chose to get some sleep. I had hoped a bit of sleep would make it easier to jump out of bed and make a mad dash for the protected room when necessary.
Shortly before 2 a.m., my daughter ran into our bedroom, urging us to quickly come to her bedroom (which doubles as our safe room). She had seen fireballs outside her window, flying in the sky. I grabbed my pillow and blanket and followed her to her room. The loud booms we heard (boomim, in Hebrew) seemed to be coming from very close range. Boom. Boom. Boom. We didn’t realize that the booms we heard were our interceptions of the explosive drones. We also heard the oohs and aahs of neighbors who had waited up for the event and stood watching a sort of early-bird Yom HaAtzmaut fireworks display. It seems that although we heard the booms, we did not receive any sirens warning us to head to the safe room since the attacks were not within the requisite number of kilometers from our home.
I don’t usually send messages to people in Israel in the middle of the night, and if I do, I certainly don’t expect a response. But on Motza’ei Shabbos, the entire country was awake. It was like the middle of the afternoon. I checked up on my family and my clients. Those who usually take time to respond to messages answered immediately. Everyone was okay, baruch Hashem. The show ended quickly and I returned to bed, thinking there was a good chance we would get awakened again.
When I woke up, I was surprised that the rest of the night had gone by without incident. The news was unbelievable. With the help of the United States and Britain, we intercepted 185 drones, 36 cruise missiles, and 110 ballistic missiles. It was a miracle!
A professor of physics, who once worked for Israel’s defense industry, wrote a letter to a rosh yeshivah. He wrote that a miracle the size of the Splitting of Yam Suf took place. He explained that what happened on Motza’ei Shabbos is scientifically impossible. The likelihood of everything working out does not exist. Had we received 90% protection, that also would have been a miracle. Our military success was a greater miracle than the Six-Day War or the War of Independence.
HaRav Asher Weiss spoke this evening in Beit Shemesh. He asked why the Rabbanim in the Haggadah went to Bnei Brak to spend Leil HaSeder with Rabbi Akiva, the youngest of the Rabbanim. Rav Weiss answered that the story related in the Haggadah took place shortly after the Bar Kochba revolt [132-135 CE]. It was a difficult time for the Jewish people. Many thought that Bar Kochba was the Mashiach and believed that he would vanquish the Romans. When Bar Kochba fell, they realized that they would be in Galus for a very long time. They went to be with Rabbi Akiva because they needed chizuk and he was the ultimate optimist. When others cried, when they saw foxes walking around in the ruins of the Beis HaMikdash, Rabbi Akiva laughed, because he saw it as a fulfillment of a prophecy regarding the eventual building of the Third Beis HaMikdash.
Rav Weiss explained that we are also going through a difficult time and need chizuk. He sees the events of Motza’ei Shabbos as just that. What happened is a neis galui, an open miracle. Hashem sent us a smile and a message that He is with us.
Let us hope that we continue to see miracles during the month of Nisan, Chodesh HaGeulah, and that we soon achieve our goals of this war. Please continue to daven for the recovery of the wounded, the release of the remaining hostages, and the success and safe return of all chayalim and security personnel.
Chag Kasher V’Samei’ach!
Suzie Steinberg, (nee Schapiro), CSW, is a native of Kew Gardens Hills and resident of Ramat Beit Shemesh who publishes articles regularly in various newspapers and magazines about life in general, and about life in Israel in particular. Her recently published children’s book titled Hashem is Always With Me can be purchased in local Judaica stores as well as online. Suzie can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. and would love to hear from you.
