The accompanying illustration is a reflection of what we’re going through these days during the Counting of the Omer, when we count each day (for seven full weeks) from the Exodus on Passover until the giving of the Torah on Shavuot.
There are times in life when progress has to be slow. Precious and sacred things are built gradually, one level at a time. We climb step by challenging step because not everything can be achieved in one leap.
The Kabbalists explain that during the Omer, we refine seven inner traits, one each week:
• Chesed (the capacity to give).
• Gevurah (the ability to set boundaries).
• Tiferet (the ability to balance the first two).
• Netzach (which means both endurance and eternity).
• Hod (the ability to show gratitude).
• Yesod (which integrates the previous traits and connects to the foundation of our being).
• Malchut (which connects to the sovereignty of G-d — and to our own dignity, the way we act in the world).
This is a rudimentary explanation; each trait contains infinite depth and layers of meaning. But we don’t have to be great scholars to advance during these days, step by step.
With every day counted, we refine our character and become better versions of ourselves so that by Shavuot we are truly ready to receive the Torah.
The Ketubah that served two couples
Ruchama Hershkovitz is the mother of Yossi Hershkovitz, the esteemed principal of a Jerusalem high school who fell in battle in Gaza. On Holocaust Remembrance Day last month, she and her husband Yaakov led a session of zikaron ba’salon (a social initiative of informal gatherings in private homes) speaking about Yaakov’s parents’ Holocaust experience.
People from across the spectrum of Israeli society came to hear Yaakov speak movingly about the self-sacrifice and faith of his mother, Chaya, a Holocaust survivor, who would give up her nightly cup of diluted coffee in the camps so that she that could use it to fulfill the mitzvah of netilat yadayim (washing hands) in the morning.
Yaakov’s parents survived the Holocaust, married and made aliyah.
The presentation had been prepared by Yossi, of blessed memory, who researched the Holocaust and was very close to his grandmother. At the end of the evening, Yaakov showed the audience his parents’ ketubah, relating how they had held onto their faith under horrific circumstances, and had subsequently produced 254 descendants, including 43 great-grandchildren.
At the conclusion of Yaakov’s presentation, a young woman approached him.
“I’m planning to get married in a month from now,” she shared. “I originally had no intention of marrying in accordance with Jewish law, but after hearing about your mother, I’ve changed my mind. I want to get married as she did, with a ketubah.”
The woman’s mother also came up to Yaakov and told him, “This has been a painful issue in our home for several months. And now, you have solved the problem.”
Ruchama summarized the experience: “My husband Yaakov’s mother survived the Holocaust and passed away. Our son, Yossi fell in the war. And now, in their merit, a new couple will establish another Jewish home.”
Why are we so happy?
Why Are Israelis So Happy?”
That’s the title of a recent piece by former Soviet refusenik Natan Sharansky and historian Gil Troy, published on Tablet magazine.
The authors explore a surprising finding: According to the newly released 2025 World Happiness Report, Israel ranks eighth among the happiest countries in the world.
This would be remarkable in any year — but especially now. In the wake of a devastating war that has claimed the lives of over 1,800 people, Israel has still managed to outpace countries like the US (ranked 23rd) and Britain (24th), while war-torn Ukraine sits at 111 and Lebanon near the bottom at 145.
Even more striking: 91% of Israelis surveyed said they were satisfied with their lives.
What’s the secret? Sharansky and Troy offer three key explanations:
1. Affirming Life
In the shadow of tragedy, Israel has experienced a baby boom. While birth rates in most Western countries continue to decline, Israelis are embracing life—literally—by bringing new children into the world. A refusal to surrender to despair is woven into the national fabric.
2. Living Tradition
A staggering 96% of Israelis recently participated in a Passover Seder — the oldest continually observed ritual in the Western world.
For Jews, tradition is not a relic of the past but a living inheritance. The Passover story is not remembered; it is re-lived. As Sharansky and Troy note, “Prayers, songs, food and other rituals invite Jews to see themselves as having been personally redeemed.”
Despite deep political rifts, Israelis remain bound by a shared story and a collective mission: to pass that story on.
3. Meaning and Hope
While youth in many Western nations struggle with an epidemic of despair — losing pride in their countries and stories — Israeli children are steeped in meaning.
Schoolchildren conduct shorashim (roots) projects, exploring their family history.
Mourning rituals for fallen soldiers and terror victims are public, communal and deeply moving. Thousands turn out to comfort bereaved families — often strangers — and the grieving respond by building “living monuments” that carry their loved ones’ values forward. Inspirational quotes from the fallen are printed on bumper stickers and shared across the country, offering daily reminders of courage and purpose.
For Sharansky, this national clarity of identity, peoplehood and history echoes the values that sustained him during his imprisonment in the Soviet Gulag.
He concludes with a message for the West: Learn from Israel. Strengthen your sense of community, of connectedness, of historical pride. In short — learn to love your country.
Translated by Yehoshua Siskin, Janine Muller Sherr
