Tzvia Ehrlich-Klein has done it again. If you liked On Bus
Drivers, Dreidels and Orange Juice: Life in Israel, It's More
than You Bargained For, you are sure to like her new
book. On Cab Drivers, Shopkeepers and Strangers: Israel
What a Country presents a further collection of anecdotes
that depict the inner beauty of the people living in our Holy
Land.
The editors' blurb on the back cover includes an interesting
quote: "Our Sages said: Even the mundane conversations of the
people who live in the Land of Israel are Torah" (Vayikra
Rabb 34:7).
There are at least two parties to a conversation: the speaker
and the listener. For a conversation to be Torah, it is not
sufficient for the talker to talk Torah; his audience must
also listen to what he says through a Torah ear.
In the case of Tzvia Ehrlich-Klein's writings, all the issues
she discusses are regarded with a Torah eye and with a Torah
ear and serve to strengthen her clearly already-strong love
for the Land of Israel and its people. This love is
infectious and it is likely that those of her readers who
live in Israel will find next time they travel on a bus,
visit a store or meet a stranger, that they themselves will
suddenly view situations through the same type of prism as
she uses.
The editors write further: "This cheerful, inspiring book
will introduce you to some of these wonderful people, from
bus driver to housewife. Like its predecessor, this second
volume of real-life vignettes opens a window onto the charm
and miracles of daily life in the Holy Land."
Generation after generation, century after century, during
the course of well over a millenium, the Jewish people prayed
to Hashem that they be granted to return to Zion. Few were
granted this privilege in the past and because fewer still
traveled back and forth, there was relatively little contact
between the Jews of Eretz Yisroel and the Jews of the rest of
the world. The Land of Israel thus took on a mythical quality
in the minds of the Jews of the world and was associated only
with praying, learning and mysticism.
But now that there are many Jews living in Israel, the
pendulum has largely swung the other way. The residents of
Israel's ancient holy cities, of Jerusalem, Tzefas, Tiberias
and Chevron, and also those of its newer religious centers,
find that much of their attention is occupied with mundane
matters: making a living, fighting city hall, paying taxes,
worrying about the garbage collection. Sometimes they feel
they fail to see the forest for the trees.
It often takes something special to see through all this
mundaneness. In the case of my own family, the bris of
our first grandchild took place in Jerusalem one Chol
Hamoed Succos. Anyone attending this occasion had to be
very hardboiled not to be struck by the rare combination of
kedusha. We were in the succa, in Eretz
Yisroel, with Eliyohu Hanovi for our guest, in addition to
the holy Ushpizin. Does one attach leshev
basucca to the blessing said at the bris? And if
so, where? And the bircas hamozon on that occasion
contained a very unusual combination of components.
But it is refreshing to be reminded that the kedusha
is there on lesser occasions too. During "A Regular Bus Trip"
and when "Shopping in Israel," to mention just two of the
chapters in the book. The kedusha is there for the
seeing, and for the feeling; all we need is a prism. In this
book the prism of the love for the Land of Israel shines
through every page.
