25 Feb KALANOT – RED POPPIES

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.