Torah That Speaks to the Heart: My Journey with Hidabroot

I was born in Persia 55 years ago and came to Israel in 1968. Our home was what you’d call religious-traditional. We lit Shabbat candles, made Kiddush, and still watched TV afterward. Judaism was part of life, but not always deeply felt.

When I was 23, my father passed away. That loss became a turning point. We started listening to Torah shiurim (lessons), and slowly began to keep Shabbat more seriously and grow stronger in our connection to Judaism.

In 1981, shortly after my father's passing, I married my wife, Shirin. She had left Persia when the Khomeini revolution began. She came to Israel with a group that trained teachers for Jewish education in Persia, but once she arrived, she stayed. She never went back.

We met through a connection between our parents. Before the wedding, I used to put on and take off my kippah depending on where I was. But Shirin had one clear condition for marriage: I must always wear my kippah. She also threw the TV out of the house.

Everything in our spiritual journey happened gradually, one small step at a time. For several years, we lived with my mother. Eventually, we moved from Kfar Saba to Carmiel because housing was more affordable. In Carmiel, we found a warm community of people who devoted to Hashem and were happy to help us continue growing.

We sent our children to local religious kindergartens, and later they moved on to Haredi (ultra-Orthodox) schools. Our own path continued gently forward, my wife began dressing more modestly, covering her hair, and we kept growing together in mitzvot. Today, baruch Hashem (thank G-d), all our children and sons-in-law are Haredi. Our 24-year-old son learns full time in yeshiva.

We are part of the community of Rabbi Margalit, the chief rabbi of Carmiel, and we also attend various Torah classes that speak to us.

As a child, I wasn’t used to learning. I never really connected to studying. But now that I’m retired, I learn Torah in a kollel (a place where men study Torah full time), surrounded by younger men. I also join evening classes and, in my spare time especially at night, I watch Hidabroot’s Torah content with enthusiasm.

When my daughters needed internet for their jobs, we decided to make the most of it by watching shiurim (Torah classes) on Hidabroot. What I love is how the lessons are given in a way I can understand. It’s not the heavy language of books. It feels like it’s speaking directly to me.

I get so inspired, really uplifted. I once told my wife that watching a good Torah insight gets me just as excited as someone watching a soccer match. Sometimes I jump out of my chair and say, “Wow, listen to this!” My wife jokes that someone should film me to see what I look like while watching.

Today, thank G-d, Hidabroot is available in every home. Just like you can turn on the news and see all kinds of scary things, you can also press a button and hear the words of Hashem. You can watch a shiur in the morning, in the evening, or even in the middle of the night. It’s always there.

Hidabroot has been around for many blessed years. May Hashem continue to help you reach more and more homes. I hear beautiful Torah classes about Shabbat, about shalom bayit (peace in the home), and they uplift and strengthen me.

One of the rabbis who speaks straight to my heart is Rabbi Hertzel Hoder. I especially remember one class where he spoke about the Ramban’s letter, the famous “Iggeret HaRamban” which begins, “Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction, and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.” The Ramban promises that whoever reads this letter weekly will have their prayers accepted by Hashem. Rabbi Hoder explained how to speak with gentleness and humility and how to daven (pray) with real kavana (intention). It was deeply moving.

We also love the “Oneg Shabbat” bulletin. We read it front to back and then again. The stories inside give us strength and inspiration. I hope our story will do the same for someone else.