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The Moment: Issue 1015

In a truly miraculous display of Hashgachah pratis, the inextricability of kemach and Torah became apparent

IMein kemach, ein Torah, says the mishnah in Pirkei Avos. If there’s no flour, there’s is no Torah. Conversely, the mishnah tells us, im ein Torah, ein kemach  — if there’s no Torah, there’s no flour.

In a truly miraculous display of Hashgachah pratis, the inextricability of kemach and Torah became apparent in a very literal sense.

When Yosef Green was about to head out to combat in Gaza, his mother, Rinat, pulled him close.

“You’re about to witness many miracles,” she said. “I want you to pay close attention. Remember each one and hold on to the details so that you can share them with me.”

With that, mother and son embraced, and Yosef boarded the bus heading due south.

Meanwhile, Rinat and her husband, Yaakov, signed up to an organization called Soldier-to-Soldier, which matches Israeli soldiers with lomdei Torah who will learn in the zechus of their brothers in battle.

The Greens signed up, and thus Yosef Green was linked with an exceptional avreich named Shlomo Grossman. Shlomo added learning all of Maseches Kiddushin in Yosef’s zechus to his already rigorous learning schedule.

Ultimately, Shlomo completed Kiddushin and held a siyum in honor of the accomplishment. Yaakov and Rinat, as well as Yosef’s in-laws, were invited to the siyum.

Rinat, an avid baker, prepared some of her delicious delicacies for the siyum. The leftovers were donated to the IDF for the soldiers to enjoy as well.

Meanwhile, Yosef was on his base and right around midnight, a truck pulled up, surrounded by tanks. The truck was filled with food packages. In the pitch black of night, one of Yosef’s friends noticed a small container had been left behind in the truck. “I’ll take that as well,” he said and added it to the pile of other food packages he was bringing back to the rest of the group.

Yosef happened to point his flashlight at the container he was given. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Inscribed on the label were the words “Kosher, pareve, misiyum l’hatzlachas hachayal Yosef Dov ben Rinat Rachel v’chol hachayalim hagiborim shelanu.”

“That’s my name!” Yosef shouted. “That’s my name!”

And if he had any doubt, one bite dispelled it. It was as if he’d been transported right back home. One of Yosef’s friends, Uriel, took a bite.

“Yup, this tastes like the Greens’ home,” he said.

And so it was that a group of chayalim were invigorated by a delicious helping of kemach, charged with the sanctity of a siyum on Maseches Kiddushin.


(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1015)

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