Every day here in Israel is an education! There really is
never a dull moment, if you keep your eyes and ears open.
*
Bruchie C. and her very large family came on aliya about
eight years ago. Though she is getting used to daily life in
the Land, she is still amazed by many of the interactions
that arise -- and how much one can learn from them.
For example: yesterday, Bruchie stopped me on the street to
tell me about her couch. After many years of use and much
wear and tear, the insides simply "fell out." As it was
impossible to sit on the couch any longer, she was now on her
way back home from having ordered a new one.
But Israel being Israel, it wasn't a simple "go into a store,
look at floor samples and at catalogues, order a couch, and
wait for it to be delivered."
Here, after spending some time choosing which couch she
wanted to order and giving a down payment, the shopkeeper,
whom she didn't know, asked her what she was going to do with
her old couch.
Upon hearing that there was nothing anyone could do with it
as no one could sit on it, the man replied, "So I'll lend you
a couch -- a floor model -- until your new couch arrives. You
can't not have a couch to sit on. When we deliver your
new couch, the driver will bring the floor model back to
me."
Of course, Bruchie was amazed and quite touched with this
storeowner's thoughtfulness and generosity -- especially as
he wasn't charging anything at all for this extra
`service.'
And when Bruchie protested that with her large and boisterous
household, she wouldn't be able to guarantee the state of the
couch even after a short period of time, the shopkeeper's
response was, "Don't worry. If there is any problem, I'll
just recover it."
It's so nice to see, in daily life situations, how we should
all be behaving.
CABS
The thing about cabs and their drivers here is that they
somehow become a part of you and of your life.
I don't just mean the drivers that you begin to recognize
after years of having them pick you up when you order a cab;
getting into their cab is like meeting up with an old friend.
In fact, they don't mind at all if you listen in on their
personal domestic conversations...
Then there was the afternoon that there were no cabs
available for about an hour or two, from any of the many cab
companies in my neighborhood or in the surrounding areas. We
found out later that there had been a funeral of one of the
drivers and all the cabbies from all of the companies from
our side of town had attended.
Perhaps the cutest example of getting involved with cab
drivers' lives is this story that happened to a friend of my
daughter.
Miriam C. had a date with Moshe and, since he did not drive a
car, he picked her up in a cab and told the driver to
continue on to a certain restaurant. This was their first
date.
By the time they arrived at the hotel's restaurant, their non-
kippa-wearing cab driver had decided that it was a
good shidduch. He told them that he felt they were
very suited to one another and he wished them a hearty "mazel
tov."
Miriam, of course, was deathly embarrassed, but Moshe just
smiled. In fact, as he was getting his change from the
driver, he said, "Give me your name and address and we'll
send you an invitation if anything comes out of this."
Well, the cab driver was right, and Moshe later contacted him
to tell him so. The night that Moshe proposed to Miriam, as
they left the hotel lobby, `their' cab driver was waiting for
them.
But he wasn't simply waiting in his regular cab to take them
back to Miriam's house for a "mazel tov."
Unbeknownst to Moshe, the cab driver, completely on his own,
had decorated his cab with ribbons and balloons and a big
sign that read "mazel tov." And yes, the driver was invited
and he did, in fact, attend that wedding.
*
My Mazel, My Begger
There are many people who collect tzedaka in Israel.
Some collect it for themselves, and many collect it for other
people. But one of the truly interesting aspects of this
phenomenon in Israel is that, with the passage of time, a
person begins to establish a relationship with many of those
people who collect the charity. This phenomenon applies
equally to those who come collecting door-to-door at our
home, as well as those you pass by while walking down the
street.
My friend Channie P. told me the following true story that
happened to her over a year ago. She prefaced her account
with the comment, "You know how, in Jerusalem, people seem to
`adopt' a particular beggar? Well, do I have an `Only in
Israel' story for you!"
A well-dressed man in his seventies, wearing a business suit,
was sitting at a bus stop in Rehavia, reading an English
language newspaper. While Rehavia is a well-to- do, basically
secular neighborhood, it is still somewhat unusual to see
someone wearing a business suit during the day.
Channie got to the stop and sat down. Seeing his newspaper,
she took the liberty of asking him about the frequency of the
buses -- in English -- and some other information she wanted
to know about the neighborhood. After a few minutes, a beggar
walked by the bus stop. The well-dressed gentleman gave him
some tzedaka without being asked.
In response, the beggar began cursing the well-dressed man
mercilessly. In fact, even as the beggar continued walking
down the street after pocketing the money, he still did not
stop muttering a string of curses against his donor.
After a few moments of silence, the man turned to Channie and
said, "Of all the beggars in Jerusalem, I had to pick him.
Every day I give him tzedaka and every day he curses
me. My mazel..."
