We are not alone

Many people I know dismiss miracles as something biblical that don’t happen today. But then, many are generally negative about the world around us and aren’t looking for goodness or miracles. For most, miracles would literally have to slap them in the face for them to be recognised as such. 

I’m not talking about miracles like the parting of the Red Sea; the 10 plagues in Egypt; or a tiny smidgeon of oil, enough to keep the menorah alight for one day, lasting eight days in the Temple. 

This time of year, we consider this miracle of the oil and how the tiny band of Maccabees was victorious over the huge Greek army. Think about that last miracle, though, and then you realise that we experience a lot of miracles. 

This tiny country in the Middle East surrounded by enemies has survived in a virtual state of war for as far back as we remember. Israel has never been able to live in peace or stop sending its young men and women into the army. While those who despise Israel have lots to say about this army, the fact is that without it, there would be no Jewish state and, as Jews in the diaspora, our situation would be far more precarious. Suffice to say, it’s easy to condemn an army when you don’t recognise its necessity. 

However, there are much smaller daily miracles we generally don’t recognise. 

When someone you care about opens their eyes after a successful but long, arduous, and very risky medical operation, that’s a miracle. Yes, you may have had the best doctors, best of everything, but the risks are real. And while the operation may not be a choice, it’s not dissimilar to playing Russian roulette. At times like these, we are so grateful to doctors and medical staff for their expertise, but we thank G-d for obvious reasons. 

Have you ever had an incident in a car when you have come close to having a terrible accident, but something helps you prevent it? 

I recall driving down a road late at night with my children in the car and a large vehicle coming in the opposite direction swerved into my lane. On the other side of me, there were rows of trees, and I hardly saw space to move out the way. Everything in the car seemed to slow down and I was able to turn the car and stop between two trees. There was no space on either side of the car. The other driver carried on driving without a thought. 

I knew I hadn’t done it alone. 

Recently, we were in the bush for a weekend and I was about to head home on the Sunday afternoon. It was a long drive to get out of the game park, with many already muddy roads, and I wanted to be home before dark. 

We noticed the clouds getting darker, and I thought I would chance it and get in front of the storm, if that was what it was. Having put our bags in the car, something made me change my mind, deciding to wait it out. Five minutes later, the heavens opened and a hailstorm of mammoth proportions hit us. The glass door at the camp reception was shattered in the storm. We were fine, and my car was under shelter. 

An hour later after the storm, we drove home safely. A miracle? You tell me. 

A very close friend told me of her son-in-law who had a blowout on a highway in Cape Town in an extraordinarily dangerous area, one you wouldn’t want to get stuck in. He was scared when a car stopped and the men inside it came towards him. His thoughts were: either they are going to save me, or kill me. 

The guys came to his window and told him not to get out the car because it wasn’t safe. They proceeded to sort out his tyre, and sent him on his way. Luck or a miracle? 

Have you ever been very late to fetch your young child from an extra lesson and you know they will have to wait outside on their own, which in this country is generally not safe? Between a late meeting and horrible traffic, I was almost an hour late to fetch my then much younger son. I couldn’t get through to anyone – not the school, other parents, or my child. I was panicking. 

When I arrived, I couldn’t see him anywhere. He came sauntering over five hysterical minutes later to tell me that a teacher had seen him and asked if she could help him with something he was battling with at school. He had had an impromptu lesson, and was as happy as anything. I was exhausted from worrying, but so relieved. Am I being ridiculous in calling it a small miracle? 

The amazing thing is these are just some of the miracles that have touched my life. One just has to recognise them. We all experience them. No question. 

The point is, do you see it as a sign of us not being alone? Do you recognise that this could be G-d’s work, and that there’s a higher power? 

So, in the face of our haters, we can stand tall and know that we’re not alone. We never have been, and never will be. Antisemitism be damned! As a local and global community, we’re united and we aren’t alone. Just like in the time of temple with the Maccabees and the oil, we have protection. 

Chanukah sameach to you all! 

Peta Krost 

Editor 

This is our last print edition of the SA Jewish Report this year. We will be back on 15 January. We will be putting out news in our weekly newsletter, so subscribe now at bit.ly/sajrinbox