by Debbie Shapiro

The week before Pesach is usually a week of frenzied activity and tension mixed with anticipation. This year was no different. Our homes, of course, had to be kashered for the holiday and there was, as usual, the tension of trying to finish an unmanageable amount of tasks before the bedikas chametz deadline. And like every other year, there was that wonderful feeling of anticipation, as we waited for that special night when we re-experience our birth as a Jewish nation.

This year, there was a different– and palpable – tension in the air, a strong foreboding that something would have to happen soon, and that things could not remain as they were. Despite the all-pervading apprehension, the streets of Yerushalayim were far from empty. How could they be? There was still last minute shopping to do for the upcoming Yom Tov. But compared to most years, the streets remained bare. People thought seriously before leaving their homes.

On Yom Tov morning, my son quietly took me aside and told me that he had heard from a friend, a volunteer for Hatzala, that there had been a catastrophic terrorist attack in Netanya. Although we had been warned that the terrorists were “planning something big” in honor of leil shemurim, we were still appalled.

At the conclusion of the first day of Yom Tov, while the Jews in chutz l’aretz sat down to their second Seder, the Jews of Israel numbly listened to the details of the massacre. Twenty-eight innocent Jews were murdered and over one hundred injured! Still reeling in shock, we heard of yet another attack, this time four Jews were killed– all members of one family – when terrorists burst into their home just hours after the end of Yom Tov.

It was obvious that something was going to happen – and soon. That same night, March 28, the Prime Minister convened an emergency Cabinet meeting, which officially declared Arafat an enemy.

Operation Defensive Shield had officially begun.

Despite the tense atmosphere, our family, as usual, entertained a constant stream of guests throughout the holiday. On the one afternoon that we made a family trip – to visit our son in Kiryat Sefer – we watched the endless line of tanks making their way to the front lines. Armed soldiers seemed to be everywhere, and security was tight.

On Erev Shvi’i shel Pesach, loudspeakers circled the neighborhoods announcing that the Rabbanim had asked Klal Yisroel to begin reciting Tehillim for a much needed yeshua. This request was echoed over the secular Israeli radio. It was obvious to all –religious or not – that we were in desperate need of Divine help.

On the afternoon of Erev Yom Tov, I was, as usual, in the kitchen finishing up the last touches for the seudos. Cakes, kugels and fish were already prepared and packed away in the refrigerator, while the chicken and meat were simmering on the fire. The children had already prepared the table for our simple Chol Hamoed meal.

The radio was, as usual, opened to the Arutz Hachareidi, the Orthodox radio station, and I listened, with half an ear, to the constant stream of announcements interspersing the music.

When I heard an announcement that food was being collected for hungry soldiers, however, I sat down to pay attention. Here, at last, was something I could do to show my appreciation for what they were doing for me.

Normally, 60% – 70% of the soldiers called into the reserves actually show up; the others have legitimate excuses to remain home. Because of this, the army routinely calls up more soldiers than it actually needs. This time, however, almost all the reservists that had been conscripted reported for service – and many others came voluntarily.

Although the army did its utmost to provide sufficient kosher l’Pesach food, with the logistics involved in providing for an additional 30,000 soldiers, there were bound to be some errors. There were many religious soldiers, as well, who would not partake of the army’s food, even if they were lucky enough to receive it.

Incredibly enough, “Operation Food for the Soldiers” had its humble beginnings when one soldier phoned his sister and told her that he was – as he so simply put it – starving. This soldier’s sister contacted Mrs. Grossman, whose husband founded the Jewish Information Center in Yerushalayim, and asked her if she had any ideas what she could do to help.

Mrs. Grossman immediately contacted the various Orthodox radio stations and asked them to notify their listeners of the problem, and then ask them to donate cooked meals to be distributed to the soldiers at the front. Meanwhile, collection points were set up in every neighborhood, and volunteer drivers were mobilized to bring the food from the neighborhood collection points to a central one.

When the call went out at one o’clock, Erev Yom Tov, women throughout Yerushalayim began to cook large quantities of additional food. “All food must be brought to the collection points before three o’clock,” we were told; otherwise, the volunteer drivers could not manage to transport it to the army checkpoints near the front before the onset of Yom Tov.

“Our Yom Tov food was already more or less prepared when I heard the announcement,” said Shira, one of the women whose home became a neighborhood collection point. “My children carefully helped me to package the delicacies that I had made for our own family while we made do with the simple Yom Tov meal that I cooked at the last moment – which, by the way, tasted absolutely delicious.

“The neighbors streamed to our home,” continued Shira, “laden with huge boxes of home-made food. It was heartwarming to see the outpouring of pure love for Klal Yisroel. Eventually two vans left our house, filled with delicious home cooked meals; and we were only one of several collection points in our neighborhood.

“When people asked me what to bring, I mentioned that the soldiers had requested wine and shemura matzos. Later, we were inundated with boxes and boxes of matzos and wine. It was a true Kiddush Hashem.”

The logistics involved in organizing such a project would have, in normal times, taken weeks of intense preparation. But Operation Food for the Soldiers was organized in less than an hour. Everyone –Litvishe, Chassidishe, Sefardi, modern, and not so modern – wanted to give, to feel a part of the effort.

“Families – extremely poor families that can barely afford to buy food,” said Mrs. Grossman, “came knocking at our door shlepping enormous pots. The fact that the soldiers needed home-cooked food seemed to touch everyone’s hearts.”

Due to the difficult security situation, soldiers are forbidden to speak with reporters. One soldier, however, who helped distribute the food to his comrades-at-arm told me that the soldiers accepted the packages with tears in their eyes. Words could not express their gratitude. “And,” he continued, “they ate every last crumb.”

Although there is no longer a problem with kosher l’Pesach meals, Operation Food for the Soldiers is still busy providing the soldiers with a touch of home – and Yiddishkeit. Every Erev Shabbos thousands of homemade kugels and cakes are distributed. Many of the packets include a small Tehillim or chizuk sefer. As a matter of fact, the Tehillim were such a hit that the secular Vaad L’Maan Hachayil requested 1,500 sifrei Tehillim, which they later handed out among the soldiers.

Many people also include a personal letter of chizuk. One woman brought several dozen individual kugels and to each one added a picture of her children dressed in their Purim costumes, “to bring a smile to the soldier’s faces.” Classes in one of the Beis Yaakovs baked dozens of cakes and kugels. Yad Eliezer donated ready-to-eat pre-packaged Shabbos meals, complete with small challos for lechem mishna. Another organization donated hundreds of disposable containers. Jews, of all stripes and affiliations, came together to show their brothers-in-arms just how much they appreciate what they are doing. Operation Food for the Soldiers was – and remains – a true demonstration of Jewish unity.

Today, we are facing a frightening resurgence of blatant anti-Semitism. Many of the world’s nations do not even attempt to disguise their plain old-fashioned hatred of Jews and Am Yisroel. In such crucial times, it is our actions that can tip the scale, and determine our ultimate success. Through giving of ourselves, through pure unadulterated ahavas chinam, we can annul the disastrous results caused by the sinas chinam of 2000 years ago. May it happen bimhera b’yameinu.

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