Parshas Terumah–Red Poppies

By: Chaya Sora Jungreis-Gertzulin

This past Shabbos, we blessed the new month of Adar. The month we celebrate the miracle of Purim. The month we are commanded to read Zachor – Remember. To remember the brazenness and cruelty of Amalek, who attacked our people without provocation. Zachor, to remember how generations later, Haman, a descendant of Amalek tried to annihilate our nation.

Last week, I joined a group of women in Israel as part of the Agudah Yarchei Kallah. We experienced our own zachor, recalling the actions of a modern-day Amalek, Hamas and Co.

Zachor, we mustn’t forget. From the moment of arrival in Ben-Gurion, I couldn’t help but notice the pictures of lives lost and hostages taken, lining the airport corridors.

The road to Yerushalayim was another zachor moment. It was lined with Israeli flags alternating with yellow flags, symbolic of the hostages not yet home.

We made our way down south to Nova, Sderot, Netivot and the kibbutzim that were hit so hard on October 7. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what the people endured. Sirens, cries of Tzeva Adom, Tzeva Adom – Code Red, Code Red. Red alert, missiles are flying, get to a shelter now. Sadly, this time, for many, the shelters didn’t guarantee safety.

The southern highway became known as Blood Road, recalling all the bloodshed. And then, our guide pointed to the kalanot, the flower of Israel blooming on the roadside. Bright red poppies -anemones. It is also called “Darom Adom – the Southern Red”. The story of our people. A nation that lives with red alerts, Blood Road, untold sacrifice. Yet, at the same time, we have beautiful red flowers, and believe in a better tomorrow.

Like Esther and Mordechai, we daven and turn to HaShem, asking for a miracle. And the miracles come. HaShem’s hand is visible to us every day.

At Nova, there was row after row of memorials and pictures set up to remember the lives lost. The sacrifices our nation endured. There we met Rami Davidian, a local farmer living not far from Nova. He received a desperate phone call from a friend… “please, go, find my son… help bring him home”.

It was early morning. Rami heard the sirens and thought it was a typical “red alert” day. He ran out, telling his wife that he’ll be back in five minutes. But it was no five minutes. And when he returned, it was with fourteen young people packed into his pickup truck. Miraculously, they made it through unharmed. Rami told his wife that he’ll return in another five minutes… famous last words. This time, he saw some terrorists grabbing a young girl, ready to adduct her, and do who knows what.

That morning, Rami ran out of his house, still in PJs and flip flops. Speaking a perfect Arabic, d ark-skinned, with a shaved head, he looked the part. He approached the terrorists and convinced them that he was one of them. He had a pickup truck, while they had motorcycles. He’ll take her back to Gaza. They listened. Another miracle. Once again, he loaded his car taking everyone to safety. His coming home in five minutes took forty-eight hours. All in all, Rami saved 750 lives.

Rami shared with us that two of the young people he saved are now getting married to each other. He will march to the chuppah alongside them. The flowers of Israel bloom once again.

October 7 was Rami’s father’s forty-sixth yahrzeit. He believes the neshama of his father was watching over him. That the hand of HaShem was with him, protecting him like the ananei hakovod, the miraculous clouds that protected Am Yisroel as they journeyed through the desert.

The Talmud teaches, “Kol hamekayem nefesh achas m’Yisroel, Anyone who saves a single soul from Israel, k’ilu kiyem olam malei, it is deemed as if he had saved a whole world.”

From Nova we went to Sderot, a simple town near the Gaza border. Terrorists invaded the sleepy town, at the same time the sirens started blaring. Missiles were being launched. Sderot was under attack.

The terrorists commandeered the police station, killing twenty officers. The police were equipped with pistols, no match for the terrorists’ RPGs, grenades and rifles. After taking over the station, they made their way up to the roof, and like snipers, they shot down at anyone and everyone below. They were finally stopped by an IDF helicopter overhead, and a tank that bulldozed the building.

So many stories of Sderot. There is one that will always remain with me. A resident’s family was awakened, thinking it to be just like any other siren day. They got into their car, heading toward safta’s (their grandmother’s) house, hoping it would be a peaceful day. Little did they know what lie ahead of them on the road heading out of town. When their tire went flat, the father got out to check it, only to be shot and killed by terrorists. A kind Bedouin wanted to help. He ran over to the car, telling the wife that he’d drive them back to town, and take them to the police station for help. Upon reaching the station, the mother and Bedouin were both killed. The children, ages 2 and 6, witnessed it all – the murder of both their parents. They were left alone in the back seat. Terrorists typically leave children as a trap, so that when soldiers hear their cries, they too, are killed as they approach the children.

But the soldiers were lucky. They were able to safely approach the car, only to hear the 6-year old girl cry out, “Are you from Yisroel?” She used pillows to protect her 2-year old sister. Luckily, they were rescued by the soldiers, and today they are living with their grandparents.

Today’s Sderot is a town of hope and inspiration. A town of resilience. Some seventy-two people were murdered. But they are rebuilding. Where the police station once stood, today there is a memorial for the lives lost. A memorial of eighteen pillars for chai, for life, standing tall. Eighteen pillars, each one inscribed with a meaningful message.

This Shabbos, we will read Parshas Terumah. “V’yikchu li Terumah, And they shall take for me a donation.” The Chumash uses the word terumah, and not the more common tzedakah or nedavah. For Terumah comes from the word rom, to uplift, to raise, to elevate through the act of giving. It is to that great height that I witnessed so many in Eretz Yisroel rising to. One such example is the organization Mishpacha Achas – One Family, whose goal it is to provide care and help for the families of fallen soldiers. In the aftermath of October 7, they extended their services, and are now caring for over one hundred orphans, small children who have lost both parents. There are many, many others, each fulfilling their mission of chesed, providing physical, emotional, spiritual and financial support with utmost selflessness and true Ahavas Yisroel.

At the Shura military base, the bodies of soldiers are given a tahara, a ritual cleaning, and prepared for their kavod acharon, their final honor. When Rebbetzin Noa Lewis was asked how she deals with this grueling task, she answered, “The bad should take us to better”.

Let’s all be inspired by Rebbetzin Lewis. May we all live with that attitude that the bad take us to better.

Shabbat Shalom!

Chaya Sora

Chaya Sora can be reached at csgertzulin@gmail.com

This article was written L’zecher Nishmas/In Memory Of HaRav Meshulem ben HaRav Osher Anshil HaLevi, zt”l and Rebbetzin Esther bas HaRav Avraham HaLevi, zt”l