A successful collection of "Kits for Kids"
is taken to Israel.
It was a trip that was neither planned nor enjoyed. It was a trip that was necessary and moving and a trip that I hope never to have to repeat.
As soon as the war in Israel began, many asked how they could help? Some sent money to Israeli medical organisations, some sent items that IDF soldiers desperately needed, and others thought about the kids, traumatised by the knowledge that their beloved fathers were now drafted back into the army.
One such organisations is called KITS FOR KIDS and is run by my niece and whose objective is to send new toy gifts to children adversely impacted by the war and especially those living close to the Gaza border and those who were living in temporary accommodation in hotels, further away from the actual fighting.
An appeal went out to the community for new toys and activity sets, and who then responded in the most generous and remarkable way. It was especially gratifying to see how, through this campaign, children became engaged and how they were then enabled to connect and relate to what was happening in Israel. By the time the appeal closed we had collected enough toys to fit into thirteen suitcases.
The next thing that we did was to contact our local CTeen group who spent a good few hours packing the items into envelopes and writing beautiful words of love and encouragement to the potential recipients.
Then came the challenge. How do we get all this stuff to Israel? So, I called my niece and asked her. “Oh uncle”, she responded, “I am not sure”.
Finally, I was pointed in the direction of an amazing London woman, who had closed her shop and converted it into a storage facility for donations intended for the IDF. “Sorry”, she told me, “But I only have an agreement with the authorities to send items for soldiers and not for kids.” “So, what should I do?” I asked. “Book a flight and take the cases with you!”
So, after explaining my dilemma to a generous supporter, who agreed to pay for the flight, I booked a ticket. Thanks goes to Michael Doffman who together with Tomer Hemed (Ex Brighton and Hove Albion Football player who was also booked to travel on the same flight) and all the suitcases, drove us to the airport in his van.
The porter who helped carry all those cases, turned out to be an Indian man who spoke Hebrew and who had lived in Israel for ten years. Hashem was with us.
Almost without hesitation the El Al staff agreed to allow me to take all thirteen suitcases free of charge. Well done EL AL!
Upon arrival in Ben Gurion, which sadly was not nearly as busy as it usually is, I was met by my son Mendy and together we managed to squeeze all the luggage into his car. That in itself was another miracle.
Soon after arriving in Beer Sheva, we set out with two suitcases of toys, loads of granola bars and pastries for soldiers, to a temporary army base used to prepare troops for their next operation. To be honest, it was not easy. Whilst giving out our goodies and helping some of them to lay tefillin, one could not help being worried and afraid for these brave men. Every time I wished one of them well and success in their mission, I felt my eyes swell up with tears. It was such a moving and inspirational experience to see these men ready, and with so much joy, to defend our people and our land. Hashem should protect them and ensure that they all safely return home to their families.
Next we travelled to a small moshav called Patish, situated about 20 kilometres from the Gaza border, where we met the local Chabad Shaliach, who greeted us with so much happiness and who thanked us profusely for coming and supporting his community.
We then went from house to house knocking on doors, which were all tightly shut, and which he explained was not usually the case, but in the current situation nobody was taking chances by leaving their doors open.
Mostly we met mothers, whose husbands had been called up and were now at home alone, looking after the children. The smiles of gratitude shown to us by the mums and their kids, will remain in my memory for a very long. I personally felt so happy that I had made the trip and felt privileged to represent our amazingly generous community.
We then travelled to Ofakim, a town quite close to the border and in which 57 people were brutally murdered. There we met another Chabad Shaliach who was distributing food parcels to the local residents and who insisted we all go visit Motti Bitton, whose son Nadav, was murdered by the Hamas terrorists. To say the atmosphere in the house was sad, is an understatement, but I just don’t have other words to adequately describe it. He sat there with his youngest daughter, a girl of about nine years old, and who just needed to talk about his son, and about his faith in G-d. He shared with us the significance of his name and what a beautiful and kind person he was. Motti’s heart was broken in so many pieces, but I truly felt that our visit helped him as he appreciated the fact that others were showing him care and love. I thought about the other 56 houses who were going through the same torment and whose lives were now so shattered.
This man was a Sephardi and he shared with us how moved he was, when one day during the shiva, four Vishnitzer Chassidim arrived with a message of support and condolences from their Rebbe, who he had never met, lived in distant Beni Brak and who lived a very different lifestyle.
How great and beautiful are your people, oh Israel. We hugged and as my eyes swelled up again with tears, I truly felt uplifted by this man’s faith and fortitude.
