The day before my son was to complete his basic training in the IDF, I learned a lesson about Israel that moved me to tears. It wasn't about military might or strategic defense – it was about tuna rolls, chocolate bars, and impromptu Torah lessons from complete strangers.
Picture this: My son, still awkward in his freshly pressed uniform, standing with a fellow soldier when an elderly woman approaches them. She's carrying packages of tuna rolls, and she won't take no for an answer. "Open your bags," she insists, with the authority that only Israeli grandmothers can muster. She's not asking – she's telling. These boys are her boys now, and they will not go hungry on her watch.
Before they can properly thank her, another Israeli appears, arms laden with chocolates. Not one or two bars, mind you, but enough to fuel an entire platoon through their next training exercise. The generosity is overwhelming, but it's the look in the giver's eyes that strikes me most – that mixture of pride, concern, and pure love for soldiers they've never met.
Then comes the third encounter – a stranger who doesn't just offer food, but nourishment for the soul. As this person shares divrei Torah with my son, I realize what I'm witnessing: This isn't random kindness. This is Israel's heart beating in perfect rhythm, where every soldier is every citizen's child, where the lines between stranger and family blur until they disappear completely.
In most countries, soldiers might get discounts or grateful nods. But here in Israel, they get adoptive grandmothers who insist on tuna rolls, impromptu candy suppliers, and sidewalk Torah lessons. It's not charity or obligation – it's family taking care of family.
As a mother, watching my son serve in the IDF fills me with pride. But watching how Israel embraces him and every other soldier? That fills me with something even deeper – the certainty that in this country, my son is never alone. He carries not just his weapon and his training, but the love of an entire nation, delivered in tuna rolls, chocolate bars, and words of Torah.
That's the Israel I love – where every soldier is everybody's child, and where the simplest acts of giving reveal the deepest truths about who we are as a people.
