His clear understanding of Jewish history and the significance of the battle in which he paid the ultimate price

Living Higher

L

ast week, the IDF announced the death of Staff Sergeant Matan (ben Vladimir v’Paulina Pesia) Vinogradov Hy”d, who fell fighting in Gaza. Matan was a tall, strapping, 20-year-old soldier, a son of Russian immigrants. Yet as became clear during shivah, beneath his olive-green IDF uniform beat a strong Jewish heart.

In his two decades of life, Matan touched many people. He was a beloved alumnus of the Shuvu institutions in Yerushalayim, where his rebbeim described him as particularly studious with a voice like an angel’s and a refinement to match. He excelled in Tanach, wore his kippah and tzitzis proudly, davened, and laid tefillin every day. He was known for the extra pencil case he carried as a “gemach.”

When he was drafted, the gemach came with him. His comrades knew Matan was well stocked with toothbrushes, toothpaste, tea, coffee, and socks for them to use. During the shivah, Matan’s mother, Paulina, recalled his exemplary kibbud av v’eim and how he seamlessly became the “man of the house” after his father’s passing several years ago. When Matan had time off, he would arrive home and ask his mother, “Mama, how can I help you, what can I get you?” In her words, he always gave to others first and thought about himself last.

She also related how just after the kevurah, an older woman approached her and introduced herself as Shuvu’s cleaning help. The woman described how for three wonderful years, a little boy would come early to school to help her take all the chairs down off the tables, and stay late to help put them all back up. Matan had not breathed a word about this to his parents, who assumed he was playing with friends during that time.

After his passing, Matan’s mother discovered his will on his phone. He addresses it not just to his closest family, but to all of “mishpachat Am Yisrael.” His last words, which his sister Stella wrote out for the public, show his clear understanding of Jewish history and the significance of the battle in which he paid the ultimate price.

Matan was a gift — to his parents, whom he honored until his last breath; to his battalion, whom he saved by absorbing the impact of a grenade; and most of all, to us, his mishpachat Am Yisrael, whose destiny is bound with his for eternity.

HAPPENING IN... Iceland

The Mesivta of Eatontown (fondly known as “MOE”) is a Lakewood-based high school that embraces talmidim in a framework of acceptance, understanding, and accountability. Firm in the conviction that the yeshivah setting is most ideal for a boy’s shteiging, MOE maintains a program that awards any talmid with an attendance rate over 80% for minyanim and sedorim during the zeman an exotic and adventurous trip that only few could dream of.

Upon completion of this year’s program, talmidim headed for an action-packed trip to Iceland, where they snorkeled between tectonic plates through freezing temperatures and ziplined over volcanoes. The bochurim then headed over to witness Iceland’s famous geysers turbulently eject powerful bursts of water. It was an apt metaphor for talmidim who put in herculean efforts to burst through life’s daily challenges — and together with their beloved rebbeim in the land of ice and fire, they witnessed nature do the same.

The Lens

As seen on Rechov Nissim Bechar (next to the shuk) in Yerushalayim. The city’s construction boom is evident in the plentiful billboards hawking real estate developments, but this sign expresses a deeper hope shared by all.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1006)