Jerusalem: City of miracles

Things happen here that transcend the bounds of coincidence and enter into the world of wonder.

By RUTH BELOFF
'Street art' on Yoel Moshe Salomon Street in the center of Jerusalem (photo credit: MEITAL SHARABI)
'Street art' on Yoel Moshe Salomon Street in the center of Jerusalem
(photo credit: MEITAL SHARABI)
Jerusalem is many things to many people. For me, in addition to its many fascinating facets, Jerusalem has proven to be a city of miracles. Things happen here that transcend the bounds of coincidence and enter into the world of wonder. Such incidents occur so often that I’m not surprised, but I’m always amazed.
Here are three of my favorites.
I MOVED here from Montreal in May 1992. On my first trip back to spend Rosh Hashana with my family, I wanted to buy my mother one of those necklaces with the outline of Jerusalem and her Hebrew name on it. Shopping in Mea She’arim, I passed a jewelry store with several such necklaces in the window. My mother’s Hebrew name was Nechama, which is not such a common name, so I thought that if need be, I’d ask them to order one for me. I walked in and said to the woman behind the counter, “You have necklaces with names on them?” “Yes,” she said as she opened a large black velvet-covered drawer with dozens of those necklaces.
“Like this?” she said, pulling one out and handing it to me.
“No, not like this,” I said. “This!” The name on the necklace was Nechama.
My mother, z”l, wore that necklace every day of her life.
SHOPPING HAS involved a wide set of miracles for me. I tote bags of groceries all the time, and that’s fine. But sometimes when I feel overburdened, I think to myself, “Oh, I wish someone would help me.” And every time I do, someone passing by offers to help. It’s amazing. But one particular incident was truly astonishing. It was about 9 p.m., and on my way home from work I stopped at a grocery store that I don’t usually frequent. As it would be an uphill trek home, I thought, “I wish I’d meet someone with a car.” Just then, in walked the son and daughter-in-law of one of my best friends. After a warm greeting, I asked the son if he could give me a lift home.
“Of course,” he replied. And then he added, “I don’t even know why we came here. We don’t need anything, and there is a supermarket downstairs from our apartment, so I don’t know why we stopped in here.”
Need I say more?
ANOTHER TYPE of encounter was truly life-changing.
I was suffering from a very painful hip and had to have an operation. I was dreading the whole procedure, and nothing anyone could say or do would calm my fear and trepidation. It was the eve of Passover, a few weeks before the scheduled surgery.
That morning, I had to go for yet another test. As I was hobbling over to the Maccabi health fund building , an elderly man was walking toward me. As he approached, he said something in Hebrew, which I couldn’t make out.
“Sliha?” (“Pardon?”) I said. He repeated it, and I still couldn’t make it out. “Sliha?” I said again.
The third time, I heard him say, “Shehashem yishmor alayich” (“May God watch over you”).
“Wow!” I exclaimed. “Lecha gam ken” (“You too”). And we parted.
Suddenly a wave of calm swept over me and I thought, “You know what? Let God watch over me. I’m not going to worry about this anymore.”
That blessing could not have come at a better time. That feeling of serenity saw me through the next few weeks and a very successful operation and full recovery.
By the same token, I know that I have been in the right place at the right time to offer assistance or encouraging words to someone else. I may well figure in other people’s “miracle” stories.
We may all be miracle workers in one way or another. We just have to be open to the awesome aura that is Jerusalem.


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