I was getting ready to head back to my unit when my daughter told me something I did not expect.
One of her friends has a father who works for a part of the government that helps decide who attends which national ceremony. Her friends, inspired by me being a new oleh and joining the army at 44, went to him and submitted my name to light a candle at the national Yom Ha'atzmaut ceremony.
It turned out they missed the deadline. So it never happened.
I do not know if I would have been selected. I do not know if I would have lit a candle. None of that matters. What got me was that a group of high school girls thought of it at all.
We join the army because the country needs soldiers and we want to be part of what defends it. We join because it is meaningful and because we believe we can make a difference in the field. Recognition is not the reason. Recognition is usually the opposite of what we get. The decision to serve costs us at home, with our wives and our kids, and we live with that.
So this stopped me.
My daughter is graduating high school. She and her friends are sitting at the crossroads of their life. Midrasha or mechina. Army or sherut leumi. These are decisions that shape everything that comes next. All of them are good paths. All of them are needed. The country runs on people choosing each one.
What hit me is that my decision to join the army at 44, as a new immigrant, was sitting in those conversations. It was part of how they were thinking about giving back. A group of 17 and 18 year old girls were talking about my choice while they were deciding about theirs.
That is the lasting impact. The next generation is watching what ordinary people do, and they use it to decide what they will do.
This is why I am writing this.
If you serve, post about it. If you volunteer with an organization, share what you are doing. If you donate, do not keep it private. If you drive supplies, coordinate logistics, run a chesed project from your kitchen table, let people see it. The army is one option. There are dozens of others, and every one of them needs people.
A lot of you are quiet by nature. I understand that. I am asking you to do something publicly anyway. Not for today. For the kid sitting at a crossroads in two years who needs to see that ordinary people do this work, and that they could too.
The candle never got lit. The conversation it set off in my house is worth more than the ceremony would have been.
If you want to be part of the operational support that keeps Shlav Bet soldiers in the field, donate at givebutter.com/smiles-for-chayalim. The gear gaps the army cannot close get closed by people who see this work and decide to act.