I Felt Hashem’s Angel Stand Between Me and Danger

Many times, during my army service, stones were thrown at our military jeeps. It happened often in and around Hebron, during patrols, drives to Beit El, and of course in Gaza. Most of the time, only the vehicles were damaged. But one time, in Hebron, I got injured. Still, when I think back, I don’t focus on that story—I think instead of the incredible miracle that happened to me. I wasn’t physically hurt in that one, but Hashem saved me in a way I’ll never forget.

Let me first share a quick word about the Hebron incident. I was in a military vehicle when suddenly, stones were thrown at us. The window shattered, and tiny pieces of glass flew into my eyes. A Golani unit arrived within seconds. A medic treated me and rushed me to the military clinic in Hebron, and then I was transferred to Tel Hashomer Hospital. The doctor there cleaned and disinfected my eyes, bandaged one of them, and over the next few weeks I had several treatments until, thank God, my corneas slowly healed.

That incident actually made it into the news—just a short note in the paper and on the radio: “An IDF soldier was lightly wounded near the Green Mosque in Hebron on Shalshelet Street.”

But the story I really want to share happened during a routine trip to Tulkarm, toward the end of my military service. This is the story I carry in my heart until today.

At that time, Tulkarm was still under Israeli control, and terror attacks were sadly frequent throughout the country. The army arrested thousands of Tulkarm residents for questioning. That day, my mission was to escort a military truck from Tulkarm to a base. I went out with two reservists to secure the truck, which was carrying military supplies.

We made our way into Tulkarm, but by mistake, we turned into the wrong street—a narrow alley that took us straight into the heart of the crowded market. On one side was a wall, and on the other, rows of tightly packed fruit and vegetable stalls. It was the busiest part of the market.

Before we had time to even realize our mistake, the attack began. Stones started flying toward the front of our truck. I looked in the mirror and saw that we were completely surrounded. Cars blocked us from the front and behind. The driver honked again and again to get the car in front of us to move—but it didn’t. We were trapped.

I shouted at the driver to push forward, to hit the car if needed—and that helped a little. But things were escalating fast. We feared they would throw a bomb and set our truck on fire with us inside. Or worse—try to pull us out and carry out a lynching. Every second felt like a lifetime.

I made a split-second decision. I opened the truck door and fired a warning shot into the air.

And then—less than a second later—it happened.

The door was still wide open. Suddenly, from just a few feet away, someone threw a heavy iron weight—a one-kilogram piece used to weigh produce—from a nearby watermelon stand. It was aimed directly at my face.

How can I explain what happened next? The weight was flying straight at me. It should have hit me. It should have crushed me. A kilo of iron thrown at full force, just a few meters away... That kind of impact could do terrible damage—like the force of hundreds of bullets.

But it didn’t hit me.

It landed, instead, right between my legs—on the floor of the truck.

To this day, I don’t understand how it didn’t hit me. Or rather—I do understand. I truly believe an angel of Hashem stood there in that moment and protected me.

By the grace of Hashem, we made it out safely. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the miracle. I was still shaken by what had just happened, still trying to absorb it.

A few hours later, I came back to the market with more IDF soldiers. I looked for the iron weight—and found it. I’ve kept it with me ever since. Wherever I go, it comes with me. It’s my reminder of the miracle I saw with my own eyes.

Twenty-three years have passed since that day, and I still haven’t fully grasped what happened. But every year, especially around Chanukah—the time of miracles—I thank Hashem for the kindness He showed me.

As we say in the prayers: “For Your miracles that are with us every day…” And as the blessing reminds us: “To the One whose compassion never ends.” I saw that compassion with my own eyes.