This past Shabbat in Jerusalem, I joined a gathering that words alone can barely capture. More than 50 bereaved families—bound not by choice but by tragedy—were invited by the "Menucha V'Yeshua" organization to find solace and strength in each other’s company. Among them were mothers, fathers, siblings, and children.

I hadn’t known Liz Chalfon, but I met her mother and two of her sisters on Shabbat. Liz and her husband Meir were among those murdered at Kibbutz Chulit on the morning of Simchat Torah, leaving their 8-year-old daughter Adi to survive the horror. The Chalfon story is one of many; each family there carried a narrative, a legacy, and a fragile determination to keep moving forward.

Rina Beilin is the mother of Oron who was murdered at the Nova festival. He was named after his grandfather, Dr. Aharon Beilin, a Holocaust survivor who testified at the Eichmann trial. Rina recalls longingly that Oron was an only child.

At the table next to her sat Yaakov and Marina Moshiashvili from Ashkelon. Their son Netanel, a Golani soldier, fell in battle 12 years ago, and then on October 7, his brother Micha’el fell. Marina wears a necklace with a picture of both of them – Netanel and Micha’el.

One after another, family members went up to the stage and spoke, about legacy, heroism, and the decision to cling to life. They talked about how important it is to give honor and appreciation, presence and space to so many precious souls.

It was amazing to see how the Shabbat itself strengthens and heals. Without news updates, this gathering was the most real news. Every verse from the weekly Torah portion, every word from Shabbat songs, literally gave strength.

Bat-Galim Shaer, mother of Gilad Shaer, one of the three boys kidnapped 10 years ago, gave an empowering lecture. A mother sitting next to me in the audience whispered hopefully: "Will I be able to speak like that in 10 years?"

Popular singers Yaakov Shwekey and Amir Dadon reminded everyone how melody, music, and singing, particularly together, give strength. And the stand-up comedian Noya Mandel managed to simply make everyone laugh.

"I haven't left the house since my son fell in battle on Chanukah," said one of the mothers. "I certainly wouldn't have gone out on my own initiative for a Shabbat with songs and stand-up and good food. But I’m so glad that I came!”

Many thanks to Rabbi Mendy Kenig, who has already organized eight of these special “Shabbatot of Strength”. But my goal isn't just to compliment him and his organization. The point is that you don't need an organization; anyone can find these families and simply approach them. Talk, listen, be together on Shabbat or during the week — and give space.

Never Too Late

Nir wrote to me this past week to share that he celebrated his bar mitzvah on Shabbat. He’s 50.

“When I was 13, I didn’t know anything about what a bar mitzvah entails,” he shared. “For the past few years, I’ve been praying at a Chabad shul in the Agamim neighborhood of Netanya. As my fiftieth birthday approached, the rabbi asked me what my bar mitzvah parasha is, and I was so embarrassed, I didn’t know what to say. Finally, I told him, ‘I never had a bar mitzvah so I don’t know.’  Today, I’m so connected to mitzvot that my rabbi couldn’t believe it. When my friends at shul heard about it, they decided that they would make me a bar mitzvah celebration.

“In parashat Lech Lecha, my bar mitzvah parashah, we read how Avraham Avinu undergoes a brit milah at age 99. This was really inspiring for me. I thought that if Avraham could have a brit at such an advanced age, I could celebrate my bar mitzvah at age 50. It’s never too late! I’m writing this letter in order encourage others to do the same.”

Calling it one of the highlights of his life, Nir described how his children threw candies at him in shul, and how during the festive meals, they sang songs and also paid tribute to the hostages, soldiers and the entire Jewish people.

In his closing remarks, Nir thanks his family, his rabbi, Rav Raphael Loyov, and most of all, God, Who never gives up on anyone.

 May we all have the opportunity to make up everything we’ve missed - no matter our age or situation!

Looking Back, Looking Forward

I suddenly remembered that just about a year ago, at the Kfar Maccabiah Hotel, I met a group of evacuees from the city of Sderot. Amidst all the chaos, between a kindergarten set up in the hotel and volunteers from all over the country bringing treats, I interviewed one of Sderot’s residents. He told me, “I’m already waiting to hear the parasha of Lech Lecha.”

That was the Torah portion for that week, and he was waiting to draw strength from Avraham and Sarah: how they faced numerous hardships and trials and withstood them, how they bequeathed values to all humanity, and how they were the first to walk this land and pass it down to us.

This year, of course, he’s home. He and his wife are back at work, the kids are in school, and Sderot is almost entirely quiet. Not long ago, it was reported that the city has become a leading destination for real estate investment. Prices there are only set to rise, and demand is growing. From having to be the recipients of kindness, the residents of Sderot are now the ones who are constantly treating the soldiers, in gratitude for having dealt such a significant blow to Hamas this year. Sinwar is already in hell, and the entire security outlook is changing.

The man I interviewed wrote to me last week, “Lech Lecha — again! The journey continues. The price is heavy, the days are turbulent, and we haven’t yet reached the destination, but look how far we’ve come.”

Shabbat of Comfort

Children at the school in Sderot

Tables set for the bar mitzvah seudah