My most recent guest at the weekly Mitchadshot workshop was Noam Simchi, the man who last Friday afternoon, found Yuval Kogan, the four-year-old who had gone missing last Thursday in the dunes near Ashkelon. Did you see the footage of him crying out, “Abba, thank You!” as he held Yuval in his arms?

We had the pleasure of getting to know him a little better. He is 27 years old and discovered the Breslov Hassidic movement at the age of 14. From the teachings of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov he learned that we are all brothers, and so when he heard that Yuval was missing, he felt as though his own little brother had disappeared.

Noam owns a horse farm called “Ahavat Hashem”(Love of God). He and his friends joined the search. After hours of combing the area beneath the blazing sun, they were exhausted and had found nothing. Then they themselves lost their way — and it was precisely then that they suddenly found Yuval under a tree, as if he had been waiting for them.

We talked about Rebbe Nachman’s Stories, in which there is always something lost that must be found. Noam, too, set out on horseback in search of something precious that had been lost—and he found it.

He is deeply moved that his simple, wholehearted words of faith have now reached millions of people. At the same time, he insists that this story is not about him. Thousands of volunteers joined the search, and countless people prayed. He does not know why he was privileged to be the one who found Yuval.

He quoted Rebbe Nachman: “There is no despair in the world at all,” and “The whole world is a very narrow bridge.”

How remarkable that he found the boy just before Shabbat. What a Shabbat Noam must have experienced afterward!

Amid all the headlines and upheaval, a modern-day hassidic tale unfolded here on Friday.

A Few More Bricks in the Beit Hamikdash

This past Tisha B’Av, I learned a lesson in innocence, sincerity and simple faith.

Chani Canterman, a Chabad emissary, invited me to visit a very special place: Camp Gan Israel–Friendship Circle, a summer camp for children with special needs. Children come from around the world to attend this unique program, and each camper is paired with a dedicated counsellor. Chani asked me to speak to the group on Tisha B’Av, when the usual outings and activities are not possible.

The fast had begun. The counsellors turned off the lights, and we sat in the darkness by candlelight. Two girls came into the hall late, tears streaming down their faces.

Alarmed, I asked them what had happened.

“The Beit Hamikdash was destroyed,” they replied.

I was stunned.

I asked the children why the Beit Hamikdash had been destroyed and what we could do to rebuild it. Their answers amazed me.

One boy said that the next day, he would try not to complain and would smile at his counsellors instead. That, he said, would be his “brick” in rebuilding the Beit Hamikdash.

Another girl said that she prays from a siddur and asked if she could pray into the microphone. I handed it to her, and she repeated the same words again and again:

“Love your neighbor as yourself. Love your neighbor as yourself.” That was her prayer.

I felt as though I had stepped into a Chassidic story.

One child after another spoke about acts of kindness and love. Then one boy stood up and embraced his counsellor, who cares for him devotedly, day and night.

“We learned about ahavat chinam—unconditional love—so now I am doing ahavat chinam. Michal, thank you.”

They stood there, holding one another. Then more children came forward to hug their counsellors—and one another.

Thank you to the counsellors and campers of Camp Gan Israel–Friendship Circle for the privilege of building a few more bricks in the Beit Hamikdash together.

With Love

 “Love” is one of the words that appears most frequently in this week's Torah portion, Eikev. Again and again we are asked to love, or are told that God loves us: "to walk in all His ways and to love Him," "Only in your fathers did the Lord delight to love them," "And it shall be, if you listen diligently to My commandments which I command you today - to love the Lord your God."

Rashi explains here a fundamental principle: "Whatever you do - do it out of love, and honor will eventually come." We are supposed to observe the Torah and mitzvot not in order to receive reward, honor, or any benefit, but out of love. When we work from love, all the rest will come naturally.

This portion is so fitting for these hot August days, for summer vacation. In the most crowded and pressured, and sometimes a bit oppressive days — show love to others and remember that we are loved. Even when there's tension, even when it's hot and annoying, love is there, at the foundation of the relationship.

The Heroic Power of Restraint

"And you shall eat, be satisfied, and bless.” These words that appear in this week’s Torah portion are the source for Birkat HaMazon, the prayer recited after eating a meal with bread. In fact, before and after eating, we stop to acknowledge, bless, and thank God. Here is a beautiful explanation of this mitzvah from Rabbi Aharoni Bernstein:

“It is worthwhile to listen to the story that food is telling us. The presence of God in the plate in front of us is both astonishing and uplifting.

“These feelings begin with the blessing before we eat. The plate is full of colorful food, the stomach is grumbling, but we pause first, in order to offer thanks. This sudden delay before attacking the food grants us the heroic power of restraint.

“After eating, when we want to quickly continue on our way, we pause again in order to bless. Birkat HaMazon teaches us to look back, to honor and to thank God for the favor of providing us with food.

“Birkat MaMazon teaches us that delayed gratification is supremely gratifying. When we sanctify eating, we discover that food is the bridge that connects us to God. Eating becomes a profound event, much more than just an opportunity to refuel. Keep this in mind the next time you sit down to eat.”

Take Note of the Mezuzah

Have you noticed the mezuzah on the doorway of the room you are in right now? Take a moment to look at it.

Rabbi YY Jacobson writes: “At first glance, the mezuzah seems like a one-time mitzvah. You affix it to the doorpost once, and you are done. That is why it is so easy to overlook its purpose and forget it is there. But a mezuzah is not merely a charm or a source of blessing. It is meant to remain present in our awareness at all times. It is a mitzvah that never ends.

“The mezuzah stands at the entrance, on the boundary between the home and the outside world. Inside it are two sacred passages: ‘Shema Yisrael’ and ‘Vehaya im shamo’a.’

“It accompanies you each time you enter and each time you leave. It reminds you of what truly matters, what is eternal and what is fleeting. It reminds you that life has a purpose. This awareness is especially important at moments of transition. As you leave your home, the mezuzah sends you out into the world with a reminder: Instead of being swept away by the rush of life, remember that you have a mission, a role and a purpose.

“But perhaps the more important moment is when you return. Home is where we face the challenges, tensions and triggers that arise between people who live together. Just before walking through the door, it is worth kissing the mezuzah and asking yourself: What do I want to bring into my home, and what do I want to leave outside?

“The mezuzah reminds me that the Divine Presence dwells in this home. The bonds we build here are not meant merely to help us survive the daily routine. They are meant to create something greater and holier. The mezuzah reminds us that we are entering our own sanctuary.”

This is an opportunity to have our mezuzot checked, particularly if they have not been inspected recently, to make sure they are kosher.

It is also an opportunity to check whether we are truly noticing the mezuzah—and paying attention to what it has to teach us.

After posting the above, I received the following astonishing response from a student at the Nefesh Yehudi student organization in Haifa. After reading about the importance of the mezuzah she decided to check whether hers was kosher. To her surprise, instead of finding a parchment containing the passages of the mezuzah, she discovered a piece of paper with Russian writing on it. “I don’t know what is written here,” she wrote, “but it is clearly not what belongs inside a kosher mezuzah,” and she immediately went out and bought herself a new, kosher mezuzah.