All Israel is brothers: This week, at the funeral of the three saints, not a single eye was left dry. People who had never known them came to attend the funeral, and the entire people of Israel bowed their heads in mourning and great anguish in their hearts.
On the surface, this seems a bit strange, since we all knew the chances were slim. In every discussion among friends or neighbors, there was a naive consensus that they were probably no longer alive. So why were we still devastated when the news was officially announced?
The answer is simple, shouts and proves again and again: because we are all brothers!
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Practice properly: About a year ago, someone at Ezer Mitzion came up with a brilliant idea: On the one hand, the organization receives many requests every day for transportation for patients and their families. On the other hand, hundreds of people in every city are traveling in the same direction anyway and would certainly be happy to do a kindness, which involves almost no hassle.
From there, WhatsApp and SMS groups sprang up, all of whose function was to coordinate trips.
And it works like this: Joining the group is not binding, there is no minimum number of trips to take, just a little goodwill. The group manager issues a request for a trip from the city to a specific point, and whoever is in the direction and can/wants to, announces that they are taking the trip and receives the details.
This thing works great and Ezer Mitzion's "Helping Hands" groups exist in several cities. I even know of cases of coordination between several parties who transported passengers or packages from Dan to Eilat.
In my humble opinion, this could work out very well between the yeshivot in Judea and Samaria and the surrounding communities. The aforementioned communities are home to a caring population that loves to donate and help, and most importantly, they travel in and out anyway.
I'm sure that whoever picks up the gauntlet will be able to help many guys travel safely home and back.
The man's speech: I heard him, Lapid, in the obituary at Talmon. And I listened to his words. The obituary was written in a sublime and sublime manner.
All the right words were there. I identified with every sentence, with every word. But, I not only listened, I also saw.
And something didn't connect.
The body language, the nodding of the head, felt as if the man was giving a polished speech in the Knesset, steeped in sarcasm and witticisms. Most importantly, the body language was not connected to the text.
You can call me petty, but I'm sorry.
This man is disconnected.
