Between the endless headlines, the political noise, and the heavy weight of the war, I am always searching for moments of good news. I find many such moments in an Israeli WhatsApp group called G-d’s Miracles and Might in the State of Israel, which is dedicated to sharing uplifting stories from around the country. My phone pings constantly with their messages. I rarely manage to keep up, but that incessant pinging is a comforting reminder that somewhere nearby, something good is happening.
Recently, a post in the chat contained a story from Rav Hillel Merzbach of Yad Binyamin, recounting an experience from 14 years ago. His wife had agreed to stay home with their children so he could travel to an army base near Arad for Yom Kippur, ensuring the chayalim of an infantry brigade would have a proper t’filah.
At first, it was hard to pull together a minyan. But slowly, chayalim began to trickle in – Ashkenazim, Moroccans, Teimanim, and Ethiopians – gathering together to daven, sing, and learn. The minyan was small, but the davening was moving.
Before N’ilah, Rav Merzbach asked the chayalim to go around the base and gather everyone else, including the secular guys. The soldiers hesitated, uncomfortable with the idea, so Rav Merzbach decided to go himself.
Dressed in his tallis and kittel, he walked through the barracks, inviting soldiers to join the final t’filah of the holiest day of the year. Some looked at his white garments as if he had just stepped off another planet. One chayal smiled and said he’d love to come, but he was Druze.
Then Rav Merzbach noticed a soldier sitting on his bunk, holding a loaf of bread in one hand and scrolling on his phone with the other.
When the rav invited him to N’ilah, the boy shook his head.
“I don’t daven. I’m not religious.”
“Even non-religious Jews daven on Yom Kippur,” the rav said gently.
“Not like me,” the boy replied. He looked at the rav and asked, “Do you have any idea how many aveiros punishable with kareis I committed today b’meizid – on purpose?”
The rav was stunned by the soldier’s exact halachic terminology. The boy explained that he had once learned at Yeshivat Chevron in Yerushalayim. However, after going through a personal crisis, he left the religious world, disconnected from his past, and joined the IDF. He apologized but insisted there was no way he could stand before Hashem for N’ilah after eating bread on Yom Kippur on purpose.
Rav Merzbach walked over and gave him a big hug.
“I need someone who knows the tunes to help me lead,” the rav told him. “Just come sit next to me. Don’t think about your past or your future. Hashem only looks at where a person is standing right now.”
The boy thought about it, then slowly stood up.
When N’ilah began, he stood next to the rav as his assistant. At first, he seemed distant, almost numb. But when the minyan reached Sh’ma Koleinu, he completely broke down. Something deep inside him cracked open, and he cried uncontrollably.
At the end of the davening, the chayalim sang and danced with simchah. When the energy finally settled, the chayal pulled the rav aside.
“I need to tell you something,” the boy said. “Earlier today, when I was eating that bread, I suffered terribly. I was calculating in my head every single isur d’Oraisa I was breaking. I kept wondering if eating it all counted as one aveirah or if every bite was punishable with a separate kareis. I was in so much pain that I davened to Hashem: If You are really there, either kill me already or show me a miracle.”
He looked at the rav. “And right then, you walked in wearing your kittel and shlepped me to N’ilah. I don’t know where I’m going from here, but Hashem showed me that He exists and that He is listening.”
They exchanged phone numbers. A few months later, the chayal called Rav Merzbach to tell him that he was slowly making his way back to observance. A year and a half after that, he called again with more good news: He was engaged – to a religious girl.
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.