[img]96|left|Shachar||no_popup[/img]Dateline Jerusalem — My grandmother, may she rest in peace, lived to 100. She was superstitious about many aspects of her life and that of others. She would never say anything good or boastful unless she followed it with “keyn aynhoreh“, a Yiddish phrase which means “no evil eye.” In Hebrew we say “bli ayin hara.“. These phrases are said to ward off a jinx after something or someone has been praised or after something good has been spoken aloud.
Last week I wrote about the exquisite beauty of Israeli forests and the fact that Israel was the only country in the world with more trees now than at the beginning of the century. I failed to thank Hashem (G-d) for these precious gifts, and I did not say “bli ayin hara.” Within hours of my writing, the forests of Haifa were set ablaze, over 40 people were burned alive in the most horrific and excruciatingly painful death imaginable. More than 12,000 acres of natural forests were destroyed, and 17,000 people were evacuated from their homes in what has been described as Israel's “worst disaster.”
This all occurred because a 14-year-old Arab boy smoked a hookah (water-pipe filled with either tobacco or narcotics) and admitted to throwing a burning coal into the forest. Two other Arab youths have also been arrested. It is undecided whether the fire was caused by negligence or arson, especially since the fire started simultaneously in four different locations in the forest. Furthermore, Al Qaeda has called for fire as a means of terror. Palestinians have been setting small fires in Israeli towns over the last year, destroying crops and infrastructure.
A Prayer and a Response
Last week prior to the fire, I also wrote about Israelis going en masse to pray for rain at the Kotel (Western Wall/Wailing Wall) and other holy sites because Israel is also experiencing a terrible drought. Although the fire raged out of control for several days, even with the help of international firefighters, planes and special equipment, it did not burn itself out until a sudden downpour of rain flowed from Heaven above, thank G-d. The power of prayer was realized with torrential showers throughout the country. But the skies opened up for only a day, just long enough to stop the conflagration and provide a respite for all the firefighters and volunteers.
I had to wade through above-ankle-deep “rivers” of water just to cross the street to get to my bus stop. My bus card was so wet that the bus driver refused to accept it in its disintegrating condition. Dripping from head to toe, I told him I did not understand Hebrew (but there really was no doubt as to what he must have been saying). He threw his hands up in the air, shrugged, and said “beseder” (okay), and let me board the bus. I spent the rest of the day at work in soaked shoes, stockings and skirt. But the fire was out.
Whether it be fire or drought, religious and non-religious Israelis alike came together and prayed together. They opened their hearts and their homes to thousands of strangers and displaced families, providing food, shelter and solace. Disasters, misfortune, terror and the ravages of war have always united the people of this country. Perhaps because Israel has always been one of the first countries to render aid to other nations during earthquakes, floods, hurricanes, and tsunamis, several other countries (friend and foe) reciprocated or came to assist Israel in its time of need. Perhaps “shalom” (peace) is not so elusive after all.
L'hitraot. Shachar
