I realized that I would probably die and that there was nothing I could do to stop that from happening.

On Rosh Hashanah everyone in the world passes before Him like Bnei Maron. What are Bnei Maron? Reish Lakish said: Like the narrow mountain pass of Beis Maron. (Rosh Hashanah 18a)

N ovember 18 2016 was the worst day of my life. It was also the best day of my life.

I had arrived in Eretz Yisrael about two months earlier when I was just shy of my 18th birthday to begin Aish HaTorah’s post-high-school kiruv program known as the Gesher program. Although my family is frum I had dropped religion around the time I started high school because I had a lot of questions that I wasn’t getting satisfactory answers to. When I asked questions about Jewish observance the standard answer my teachers gave me was “Because G-d said so.” That wasn’t good enough for me however and each answer to that effect spurred me to drop the particular observance I was asking about: davening wearing a yarmulke eating kosher keeping Shabbos.

For 12th grade I switched to a nonreligious Jewish high school. I wasn’t planning to do a gap year in Israel but a rabbi from Aish HaTorah Jerusalem came to my school to recruit for the Gesher program and he managed to convince me that the program would provide satisfactory answers to my questions. It did — but not in the way I expected.

On Friday November 18 17 Cheshvan the yeshivah organized a tiyul to the Galilee’s breathtaking Keshet cave. Ever the adventurous sort I was the first one to rappel down into the cave and when we started the 40-minute climb back up to the top I was in the lead along with my madrich Aron Dovid. As part of that hike we had to walk single file on a rocky ledge along the side of the mountain. The ledge was only eight inches wide. On the other side of the ledge was a cliff.

As I walked along the ledge my foot slipped. The next thing I knew I was in free fall.

The whole fall lasted about 2.5 seconds. But in those 2.5 seconds I managed to do a lot of thinking. I thought about my father. My mother. My little sister. My friends in yeshivah. My rebbeim. Then I realized that I would probably die and that there was nothing I could do to stop that from happening. This is the end I thought. I am who I am. I can’t change what I’ve done in the past. Now I have to move on. Then I went limp.

It’s hard to explain this but from the moment I surrendered to my fate I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and even bliss.

There were no trees or bushes around no grass or soft earth to break my fall. Only rocks. I felt no pain when I slammed into the rocks 60 feet below. I rolled a little on the ground and then when I stopped moving I began touching myself all over to make sure every piece of me was still there. Everything felt fine except my left leg which felt like Jell-O. I wasn’t even sure if it was still connected to me. That was a little scary. But I realized much to my shock that I had survived.

“Shua! Shua, are you okay?” It was Aron Dovid calling down to me in a panic.

“I’m alive ” I called back calmly. “But my legs are very broken.”