Today, Dr. Chaim Addato, a successful doctor of
acupuncture in Ashdod and his wife, Michal, an experienced
lawyer, are unraveling the story of their lives. They point
to the significant turning point that altered their
relationship to life. "Now we know that we're nothing but
messengers, that everything is dependent on the Creator of
the Universe."
"I was born in Mendoza, Argentina," Sylvia begins. "My
parents emigrated from Bessarabia to Argentina, following the
failed attempt at the settlement organized by Baron Hirsch.
The city of Mendoza is situated on the edge of the huge
country, near the Chilean border, a remote city, in terms of
Judaism. I knew that I was Jewish but that, unfortunately and
ashamedly, was the only information I had regarding my
Jewishness. My parents never explained to me anything about
Judaism and what it requires from its members. I don't know
if my parents even knew the deep meaning of Judaism. Perhaps
they did, but like other weak Jews, wanted only to save me
from "the Jewish fate", the hatred of being different and
separate.
But in spite of everything, the concept of "Judaism" simmered
inside me from a young age. Once I read in a book I happened
to have that the Jews don't eat pork. From a feeling of
identification with the nation I was born into, I took that
item off my menu, although it is very popular in our country.
Later, I heard that the Jews have a homeland, and that they
even established a state there. I dreamed of making aliyah to
Israel and thus to realize my affiliation, my belonging, to
the Jewish people.
After completing my law studies at Mendoza University, I made
aliyah to Israel. At "Canada House", an absorption center in
Ashdod, I changed my name from Sylvia to Michal. I became
aware there of the variety of Jews from all parts of the
world, new immigrants from different and distant countries,
with different languages and traditions but still with a
common Jewish denominator. Only someone who has grown up in a
completely non-Jewish environment can appreciate the Jewish
people and its sensitivity, to notice that in its behavior
are ingrained the three innate character traits that the
Jewish nation is known to possess: Modesty, compassion and
lovingkindness.
At the absorption center, I was exposed to the same low
dosage of Jewish tradition that all new immigrants are.
Judaism modern-Israeli style was summed up, for example on
Purim, with the singing of Shoshanat Yaakov with a
side order of crisp homentashen or on Pessach, with a
symbolic seder featuring excerpts from the
Haggadah.
I was happy that they were teaching us about Judaism but I
didn't know that it was only the tip of the iceberg. Of
course I heard about religious people who observed laws but
in the vernacular, this is religion and not Judaism. After a
few years in the throes of a not-so-easy absorption in the
new land, I married Dr. Addato, a family doctor in the health
fund who had a reputation for the humanity that he radiated
and an honest interest in his patients. I continued my
courses towards getting a lawyer's license and I specialized
in customs law and drawing up contracts. When our two
children, Moshe and Devorah, were born, we enrolled them in a
state religious school so that they would have a bit more
tradition and learn some customs so that they would be more
"Jewish".
We also knew that Judaism was a belief in the Creator of the
World. In fact, I always had that belief. It was the same
spark that guided me not to eat `the other meat', that urged
me to make aliyah, the same deep spark in my soul that led me
to a belief in the Creator, but a belief without practical
obligation.
Dr. Chaim Addato: "In Turkey, we all believed. We went to the
synagogue, watched candles being lit, we kept the Sabbath and
holidays. My medical studies only reinforced my beliefs. When
you see how the human body functions and how complicated and
sophisticated its systems are, in what amazing combination
they work, only a blind person wouldn't believe; only an
obstinate person could deny that there is a Creator of the
most amazing machine in the universe!
But we were brought up on the opinion that the Creator of the
Universe demands nothing of us. It's enough to know our
national identity that is, that we belong to the Jewish
people. Only the religious have some long Torah which is
optional and not really binding to everyone.
*
Michal: In order to specialize in law, I began working in the
office of a famous lawyer. In time, the chareidi
sections of Ashdod became populated with chassidim and the
Lithuanian Grodno Yeshiva was also filled. An insurance
agency, whose managers were chareidi, opened up near
the office where I worked. When they needed professional
advice about drawing up contracts, they turned to the office
I worked in.
I wondered at their monotoned clothes: white shirt, black
suit and the kippa that never left their heads. Not to
mention the long "strings" that dangled from the edge of
their clothes. I kept my curiosity to myself. When the lawyer
started to direct them regarding the precise language of the
contract, I sat in the next room and listened to the
conversation. I was surprised at their ability to understand,
to analyze. They stood firm on small details and that amazed
me. I couldn't understand how a person with no university
education, without a law degree, could understand the
intricacies of law so well. I wondered how these
chareidim, who had learned Torah all their lives,
could be familiar with the fundamentals of law. They were
always described to me as having a low level of education. I
was very surprised.
"You have legal logic," the renowned lawyer complimented them
honestly.
"We develop it at Yeshiva, when we learn gemora," they
explained.
I listened attentively to what they said: "Judaism is a
wonderful and magical world, a world of deep thought." They
didn't expand on this by speaking about their studies at
Yeshivah, they only said that there were a series of lectures
for anyone interested and if he wanted, there was going to be
a seminar for academics. The lawyer answered carefully, "I'm
always ready to listen, but there won't be any consequences
to my lifestyle."
"We don't force anybody. Everybody reaches his own
conclusions," they were quick to reassure him.
Their speech on free choice led me to believe their words,
simply uttered, and broke the myth I had also clung to
regarding religious coercion.
I prodded my husband. He agreed to participate with me in the
seminar for academics. Our stay at the seminar passed like an
enchanted dream; very impressive lectures, logically
constructed and influential for their truth. For the first
time, we understood that Judaism wasn't only a feeling of
abstract identification and a few holiday rituals. All of a
sudden, I was made aware of where that weak, latent spark
that had whispered to me about my Judaism was leading me, to
the threshold of authentic Judaism — to the doorway of
happiness inherent in it, whereby one fulfilled the will of
the Creator.
We returned home, having made the decision, "to obey and to
hear". We'd do a bit, listen more and do some more, then we'd
listen again. The first thing we decided to observe was
keeping kosher. We started eating on disposable dishes until
the "koshering team" could come to our house. We held classes
about Judaism at our home. Every week a lecturer came. We
found an audience among our neighbors, acquaintances and
friends who initially refused our invitations and laughed at
the idea. They thought we were naive: "You, our educated
neighbors, Dr. Chaim, and attorney Michal, are having
lecturers on such a shallow level?" they asked and came to
the lectures only out of a sense of duty, because they felt
uncomfortable refusing.
When they heard the lectures, they were also drawn as if by
magical strings to the deep and wonderful world of Judaism.
Many of them, after finding the truth, went, of their own
volition, to the seminar. As for us, the lectures provided a
foundation and strengthened our observance.
Among those listening was, to our great joy, our daughter
Devorah, who at the time was an officer in the army. She
listened and it made an impression on her. She signed up for
the Seminar for single girls and from there went to regular
classes at SELA (the seminar for learning about Judaism) in
Bnei Brak. We like to think that it was the merit of the many
people who attended classes in our home that aroused in
Devorah, our young and distant daughter, the desire to listen
and in the end, to internalize what she heard.
I was rather skeptical about Devorah. I didn't believe that a
successful officer in the army would be capable of abandoning
her lifestyle. Her return lit our new path, still laden with
obstacles, with a beam of light. We felt that our Father in
Heaven was helping us.
"It's important to emphasize," adds Dr. Addato, that "there
are those who participate in the seminar who discover a deep
world outlook and through the seminar, they enter the world
of mitzva-observance. I believe that with it came a
deeper change. Our entire approach to life changed for me as
a doctor and for Michal as a lawyer. We were used to thinking
that we were the initiators, the doers. I thought I was the
healer and my wife was the rescuer. Now we know that we are
only messengers and that everything depends on the Creator of
the Universe! Our outlook changed from one end to the other
and it was a major one.
"Since then, when a patient walks into my clinic, I pray in
my heart that I will be a good messenger for his recovery.
It's hard to describe the change. It's uplifting to think
that Someone up there is helping the whole time, especially
when I frequently encounter difficult situations.
"A month after the seminar," relates Dr. Addato, "I decided
to take an early pension. I transferred to a private clinic,
where I combine regular medicine with alternative
complementary medicine. I'm an expert in acupuncture and
using healing plants. This way, I can devote time to Torah
study. I have study partners who learn with me Maseches
Shabbos and Masseches Chulin, chavrussos in the
morning, afternoon and evening. And of course, the regular
lectures in our home, which has become a Torah home."
"You can almost say that we've reached hamenucha
vehanachala," Michal continues. "Only one thing
overshadowed our great happiness; our son Moshe, a young man
who stood apart. The Torah classes didn't interest him. He
was busy in his world, a world of secular youth and all their
vanities. Although from time to time, he pricked up his ear,
without meaning to, to hear the lecturers, but it was an ear
pierced with an earring. His mind was occupied with exciting
entertainments and friends. It was hard for him to
disassociate from it. In the privacy of his room, he
continued to live a secular life.
"It has cost us many prayers," remembers Michal. "The Rav
strengthened us, encouraged us and guided us: `Don't push
him. Treat him patiently and with much love. Warmth melts ice
slowly and patiently.'
"We were disgusted with Moshe's lifestyle, but like the Rav
advised us, we didn't push him. And then, the moment arrived.
We were invited to a Purim Seudah in Bnei Brak at a
family of chareidi acquaintances. My husband requested
that after the seudah there be a mishnayos
class for the benefit of his deceased father's soul and our
hosts gladly agreed. I asked Moshe if he would join the
class.
"If it's for Grandfather, I'll go," he answered.
"But without the earring. They're not used to it. When we
come back, you can put it back," I said, my voice thick with
sadness. The tears of a Jewish mother praying for her son
poured from my eyes relentlessly, tears full of hope and much
prayer and beseeching. Moshe cast me a tormented look. I'm
certain that it was my tears that cut through the barrier of
his heart. The earring was removed — and wasn't
returned.
On Purim, the turnaround happened and on Pessach, he was
already participating in the seminar. At the beginning of
summer session, he was registered at Orayta and after that,
he continued learning at Netivot Olam in the afternoons. In
the mornings he opened, with his father's initiative, a
yeshivah for academic baalei teshuvah in Ashdod,
Yeshivat Hamaor Sheba.
"Since my return to Judaism," Michal says, "I have no words
to estimate the importance of hosting baalei tshuvah
in chareidi homes, the contribution both in drawing
people nearer and in offering practical guidance: to show how
one conducts a Shabbos table, to sing zemiros, to
demonstrate family togetherness. Also, since we became
baalei teshuvah, our house has turned into a center
for drawing others nearer to help them find the truth. We are
happy to offer our help. Our only purpose is that other Jews,
children of the nation of Hashem, be happy, as we are, in the
true happiness of the Torah.
