Guest Rambler: Miriam Koval
A Wing and a Prayer
Hi all! Miriam Koval here. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m the rabbi’s oldest daughter and as of this week I’ll be taking over for Deena Henfield while she’s on maternity leave. I just returned from Israel a few days ago and can honestly say that my life has changed immeasurably in the 2 weeks that I was privileged to be in the holiest country in the world. I’d like to share several experiences which contributed to this.
The very last night of my stay in Israel, I decided (at 4:30 am) to walk to the Kotel – a 35 minute walk from the apartment I was staying in. I noted as I briskly walked how hauntingly beautiful the streets were – almost completely deserted except for the occasional car headlights and stray passerby. About halfway into my walk I passed Ben Yehuda – a major street in Jerusalem where young people typically hang out. I decided to pop into one of the bars which my friends and I had been frequenting to say goodbye to my favorite barista Lauren. She wasn’t there but her friend Hannah was, along with several guys who also worked there. Within 2 minutes we were all happily chatting away in Hebrew and drinking Israeli beer together as Hannah, a professional hair stylist, braided my hair. I regretfully mentioned that I was in a time crunch and had to continue on my trek to the Kotel. Hannah offered to walk me partway. The reason that I mention all this is to accentuate the hashgacha pratis (divine providence) of how the timing worked out so perfectly that night.
We ambled along at the edge of the train tracks which lead straight into the Old City, so deep in conversation that we didn’t notice the older Israeli woman walking right in front of us. Hannah almost walked right into her. “Slicha giveret, ani kol kach mitzta’eret al zeh (Excuse me ma’am, I’m so sorry about that)” I blurted. The woman assured me with a warm smile that she harbored no ill will towards us and asked me where in America I was from (I guess my Israeli accent isn’t as good as I thought).
Hannah had to go back to work, and since I was already conversing with the Israeli woman, who at this point had revealed to me that her name was Elka Fisher, we continued walking toward the Kotel together. I told her I was from Ohio and she said “ah, at makira et Mishpachat Koval (do you know the Koval family?)” Boom! First mindblowing event of the night. “Ani Koval (I am Koval)!” I replied with a huge smile. Long story short, she knew one of my cousins as they had been next door neighbors in Jerusalem roughly 20 years ago.
We continued walking and talking about matters such as God, religion and the like. As we entered the Old City, she purposefully veered towards the Arab shuk which is a shortcut to the Kotel straight through the bowels of the Old City. I felt absolutely safe with this divinely woman. She asked me to say amen to her brachot (blessings) and I happily agreed. What a sight we must have been – a girl in jeans answering amen to the brachot of a clearly religious, older Yerushalmi woman.
Regrettably, I don’t have enough space here to detail the rest of our incredible conversation. Suffice it to say that this Elka Fisher is an absolutely incredible person. As the Kotel appeared in our vision I told her that I had to run to pray for 5 minutes and then head back, so I hugged her goodbye and thanked her profusely for walking and conversing with me. I told her I’d never met anyone like her and we agreed to keep in touch (she had a “kosher phone” – no texting or internet). I of course then snapped a selfie with her which I will attach at the bottom.
What happened next is what changed me. After saying goodbye to Elka I rushed toward the Kotel and asked another older, Yerushalmi woman to help me find the place in the siddur. She asked me to say my brachot out loud so she and her friend could answer amen and asked me if I knew how to say the brachot. “Oh this should be fun” I thought, and proceeded to rattle off the brachot with a passable Israeli accent. At this point a small group of women had gathered around me, saying things to each other like “how amazing! A non religious girl who says the brachot so beautifully!” and “what a beautiful neshama (soul) she has.” It took all I had not to break down right then and there. After I finished the brachot I looked up to see none other than Elka beaming at me. She handed me her siddur (prayerbook) and told me to keep it, on the condition that I’d try to say brachot from it every day. Boom! Mind and soul blown. Tears welled up in my eyes again as I hugged her once again and took my leave.
I wish I had space to recount all the other amazing things that happened to me in Israel, like the cab driver who drove me 7 minutes for free because “he wanted the mitzva”, the two older people on the train each insisting that the other take the last seat, the countless small acts of kindness witnessed which brought me to my spiritual knees. There is truly no other country like Israel in the world and no city like Jerusalem. I’ll be back just as soon as I can.
Shabbat shalom to my beautiful JFX family, love you all.
~ Miriam
