It has been an unreal year-and-a-half since our last trip to Eretz Yisrael. COVID ramifications took many forms for all of us, and no one was left untouched. Baruch Hashem, we felt very blessed. We were well, and family members who had gotten COVID, were also doing well, for the most part.
Mainly we felt the
isolation and loneliness of spending one Yom Tov after another, and Shabbos
after Shabbos, without our children and grandchildren. Succos was especially
difficult, being the first Succos in almost 20 years that we weren’t going to
be with our children and grandchildren.
As the months went
by and life slowly began to normalize, once we got used to the new normal, we
made adjustments and went back to a mostly regular routine. We even
participated in a grandson’s semi-COVID wedding and were very grateful to be
there.
After we received
our vaccines, we began to dream about a trip to Eretz Yisrael. The dream became
even more of a reality when we were notified about another grandson’s
engagement in Eretz Yisrael as well as a pending birth. Both events would take
place around Shavuos.
Now the pressing
question was how to get there. We acquired and filled out forms of all sorts,
slowly putting together a full folder of information that might be needed. We
bought tickets and kept ourselves posted on all the newest restrictions and
permissions to enter Eretz Yisrael. One day, the wedding was an acceptable
reason to go; the next week, it wasn’t! Then the pending birth was a shoe-in; a
few days later it wasn’t. Up and down the roller coaster we went, getting
dizzier and more confused with each passing day. We persevered, though, and the
flight date was soon looming before us. Finally, we got the green light; we
could apply for a permit based on the pending birth. Off went the files, and
the clock stated ticking.
We were scheduled
to fly on the Sunday before Shavuos. Our permits arrived that Wednesday. We
later heard about people who received their permits on their actual travel
dates. One gentleman was already waiting on line for departure when the permit
arrived. The bottom line is if one has a legitimate reason to go and wants to
go, don’t give up; it’s worth the trouble!
Yes, there was a
lot of tension and a great deal of hassle, but we got there and the simcha was boundless, b”H. We were so very grateful and did
not forget our hakaras hatov to the One Above, for a single
second.
That being said,
the glitches were almost humorous, when looking at them properly. It was as if Hakadosh Baruch Hu were dropping little
notes to us, lest we forget our feelings of gratitude. I had urged my husband
to arrange with airport services for someone to help us through the arrival
process. I should’ve known that, as always, Hashem is constantly guiding us –
with or without the extra assistance. Everything was going so smoothly that I
didn’t even bother to double check if we had gotten the right suitcases. Off we
went to pick up our rental car. That was when glitch number one happened and,
almost simultaneously, so did glitch number two.
Our entry visas,
which we needed at the rental center were nowhere to be found. Just as we were
discussing what to do next, my phone rang. It was my daughter-in-law informing
us that we may have her neighbor’s suitcase. She also reported that our
suitcase was still at the terminal. Well, Hashem clearly was running the show.
The neighbor’s husband had just welcomed us a few minutes earlier as we were on
our way to the rental agency and he was going into the terminal to pick up his
wife. Within minutes, he was back to claim his suitcase. Shortly after that, we
walked back to the terminal with no idea how to proceed. Lo and behold, we
literally bumped into the airport assistant who indeed had our visa cards in
his pocket and was also very helpful in retrieving our suitcase.
Was Hakadosh Baruch Hu smiling, or what? I’d
like to think that He was, and, as soon as we arrived at our apartment, I wrote
out a check to the Rabbi Meir Baal Haness fund. By the way, I do this each time
we arrive at our destination with our luggage intact as a way of saying “Thank
you, Hashem.” Next, were the minor glitches like me receiving my emails about
being out of quarantine while my husband did not receive his until a few days
later. Then, my husband absolutely could not find his passport. We looked and
looked again everywhere, to no avail. In desperation, as I was walking to our
children to pick up our grandchildren, I promised another check to Rabbi Meir
Baal Haness. Within minutes, my husband called. He looked in the very same
suitcase one more time, and there was the passport wrapped in a plastic bag.
Was this not hashgacha? Could Hashem
make his message any clearer?
B”H, we settled in and the simchas began. A baby boy arrived before
Shavuos. We had a shalom zachor, aufruf, and
bris on the following Shabbos, and we
celebrated the chasana on Thursday. Wow!
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
But, lest we
forget, once the party was over, Hashem still had one or two reminders in place.
The time to say our good-byes had arrived, and never was I more aware of the pasuk, “Kasha alai pridaschem.” How difficult is our separation from
Hashem. Leaving our children and grandchildren was somehow more difficult than
it had ever been before. Perhaps I was so much more aware of how easy it is for
a visit with children to become complicated. I was, indeed, very aware of so
many people, family, friends, neighbors, and so many countless others who had missed
out on so many large and small milestones and even “simple” visits in the past
year. We had been truly blessed these past few weeks to be able to be in Eretz
Yisrael and to share simchos with our
family there.
But, just to make
sure that we wouldn’t forget that our cup was, indeed, mostly full most of the
time – and sometimes even fuller – we had one last glitch at the airport in
Israel and another in Newark. All went well through security and then (drum
roll, please), my husband innocently asked, “Where’s my jacket?” Oh no, he left
it, along with his watch and phone in a bin at security. Back he went, while I
proceeded to the gate; to do what, I wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps my husband
thought I could insist on delaying the departure until he arrived. My gosh, I
didn’t even have a phone so that he could keep me posted.
Meanwhile, he did
not have a clue of where to go or what to do, but he was very aware of my SOS
fallback in situations like this. He promised another check to Rabbi Meir Baal
Haness, and within seconds he noticed a friend of ours getting ready to come
through security. He quickly called out to him and explained the situation. Our
friend (an Israeli, who knew the ropes) was told where to pick up the missing
items and escorted my husband there. Meanwhile, final boarding was under way,
and, naturally, I was a mess. At the last second, my husband came jogging up,
jacket, watch, phone, and all. When I asked him what took so long, he said that
he met a friend. I wasn’t smiling. The steward rushed us onto the plane. Phew! B”H!
Oh, and the last
glitch? Would you believe that if you pay a guy conveniently parked right next
to your car in the airport parking lot at 6 a.m., $20, he’ll give a hot shot to
your car, which was perfectly fine when you left it. Okay, I truly think that
we got most of our messages, but just to be sure, I decided to write this
article and make it official. Thank you Hashem! You do, indeed, orchestrate it
all.
