Good deeds have a ripple effect that strengthen us during the war - opinion

In the tumultuous 12 months since all our lives were turned upside down, we have all come across heroes, people who have done amazing things and had a profound effect on others’ lives.

Soldiers who have made the ultimate sacrifice, bereaved families showing strength and resilience beyond belief and volunteers all around the country giving of themselves on a daily basis to help the displaced families all engender feelings of admiration, pride, and gratitude. But they can also make us feel inadequate and guilty that we aren’t doing our bit as much as we should.

However, each one of us can effect wonderful and life-changing achievements without even knowing it and only find out years later, or maybe even never.

Earlier this week I was standing in a long queue at Ben-Gurion Airport waiting to check in when a tall young man in his early 30s, with an engaging smile came behind me in the queue and began to talk to me. “Hi, good to see you!”, he said cheerily.

“Good to see you too!” I replied, desperately searching my mind’s database for a name to match his face. I knew him but where from?

Was he a patient of mine? Had I done his brit? Was he a friend of my kids? Or perhaps a kid of my friends? As we continued to chat about what he was up to, his lovely family and how he had made aliyah a couple of years ago – I got it! I remembered where I knew him from!

Transported in time 

I was transported back 16 years to a Friday night and an urgent knock on my door. Now, this was a regular occurrence being one of a handful of Jewish doctors in the community where I lived. 

Rarely a Shabbat went by without someone coming to the door for medical assistance of some sort from minor injuries to childbirth, heart attacks, and strokes.

On this occasion, my then-teenage daughter went to open the door as I rolled my eyes and silently wished people would leave me alone. I made a mental note to move somewhere where no one knew me.

“Quick daddy!” she shouted as a boy was dragged in from the street and collapsed in the hallway.

It was obvious at first glance that this young lad of about 18 (we’ll call him Sam) was seriously ill. He was ashen grey in color with a barely palpable pulse, mottled, and sweating.

My oldest son called for an ambulance and my wife and I administered first aid. Sam’s brother told us he was soon to be going to South Africa and had taken some anti-malaria tablets earlier in the day.

HE WAS having an anaphylactic reaction to the medication!

I banged in the contents of an Epi-pen from my emergency bag and he stabilized until the paramedics arrived and carted him off.

And here he was, Sam, in the queue behind me, large as life, showing me a photograph of him and his lovely wife with their two sweet children.

He asked me to tell him what had happened that fateful Friday night because he didn’t recall the details, being barely conscious.

In return, he smiled coyly and told us that this episode had changed the trajectory of his life forever. He had been just 18 and, in common with many teenagers, was not quite sure who he was, where he was going, and what he wanted from life.

During this frightening episode, like many before him, Sam had done a deal with God (whatever and wherever He was) that if he got through this, he would take his Judaism more seriously, would learn and cherish his heritage.

Well God did His bit and Sam made a full recovery and even made the trip to South Africa. But, unlike most people, Sam also followed through on his part of the deal. 

He went to learn in yeshiva, became more religiously observant and now lives a fulfilled life bringing up the next generation of fine Jews.

As we reached the check-in, we swapped phone numbers with Sam who wanted to be in touch with one of our children and we felt a warm glow to have heard his story first hand.

We boarded our plane and as we sat down my phone pinged. A Whatsapp popped up: “Hi it’s Sam here... great to see you and thanks so much for saving my life!”

The guilt ate me up as I remembered the eye roll and the irritation I felt when the knock on the door came.

What if I’d told my daughter not to answer? What would have become of Sam?

What other opportunities might I have missed over the years?

Only 10 minutes minor effort on our part on a Friday night in Manchester has led to what we pray will be an ongoing glorious future for the delightful Sam and his family.

Just as a pebble thrown into a pond creates a ripple, so too do small acts of kindness have the power to achieve great heights and lead to others to pay it forward.

This ripple effect can spread throughout entire communities, creating a world that uplifts everyone it touches.

Often, we may never know how far that ripple will travel, but if we are very lucky, once in a lifetime we may get a nod from above.

This was my nod from above.

The writer is a rabbi and physician who lives in Ramat Poleg, Netanya, and is a cofounder of Techelet-Inspiring Judaism.