One Step Closer to Hashem, One Miracle After Another

It all began six years ago, when I enlisted in the IDF. At the time, I wasn’t religious at all—Judaism and mitzvot (commandments) weren’t really part of my daily life. But about six months after joining the army, something changed. I started to feel a pull toward something more meaningful. I began taking small steps toward faith, and from the moment I did, Hashem didn’t leave me for even a moment.

He sent me a special messenger—a Chabad rabbi who came to our base just to teach Torah to soldiers. My unit was tiny, tucked away on a large army base, and the chances of this rabbi reaching me were so small. But Hashem doesn’t abandon any Jew. All He asks is that we open the tiniest crack in our hearts—"the size of a needle"—and He will open a doorway "the size of a hall."

Just a few days before Chanukah, I sat with that Chabad rabbi. He asked me a powerful question: “What big commitment are you willing to take on before Chanukah, so that Hashem will bring you a big miracle?”

Of course, what I wanted more than anything was to leave the army. It didn’t feel like a place for a Jewish woman—spiritually, emotionally, or modestly. (That journey deserves a whole story of its own.)

After thinking it over, I made a bold decision: I would commit to full modesty (tzniut). That meant starting to wear skirts—not only in the army but also in my daily life. I didn’t even own a single skirt at the time! But I believed that if I made a strong commitment, the miracle would match the strength of the sacrifice.

I won’t pretend it was easy. Wearing skirts in the army came with plenty of awkwardness and even embarrassment. But Baruch Hashem (thank G-d), that was only the beginning of many blessings. Each step I took toward modesty brought me closer to Hashem—and to myself.

Did they discharge me from the army, as I had hoped? No. But now I see clearly that it was all for the best.

Then, out of the blue, two months before my official release date, I was informed that I’d be discharged early. Just like that. What joy I felt that day!

That date? The 9th of Adar.

By then, I had already strengthened myself so much in emunah (faith). I decided that the very next day, I’d begin learning at Tiferet Banot, a seminary for women in Jerusalem.

The yetzer hara (evil inclination) tried to pull me back. I thought maybe I should wait a week or two. But I stood firm and didn’t give in. On the 10th of Adar, 5774, I walked through the seminary doors—and my life hasn’t been the same since.

I won’t go into all the details of my spiritual growth, but just know—it was deep and transformative.

Later on, when I started dating, it just so happened that my first date was on Chanukah. Every night during candle lighting, I poured my heart out to Hashem: “Please, Hashem, if this is my true match, bring us together in holiness.”

And so it was. We got engaged at an eis ratzon (an auspicious time), and when did we get married?

The 10th of Adar, 5775.

I became pregnant not long after. And you’ll never guess when I gave birth...

The 10th of Adar, 5776.

Hashem’s love and kindness are endless. I believe with all my heart that He will grant me another miracle this year—maybe for Chanukah, maybe for Purim. Because when a person sacrifices for Torah and for truth, Hashem never forgets them.

May we all merit to give of ourselves for the sake of the holy Torah, and to feel Hashem’s love and closeness every step of the way.

This story was shared as part of Hidabroot’s “Publicizing Miracles” project, where readers send in real stories of Hashem’s kindness in their lives. Have you experienced a miracle too? We’d love to hear your story! Write to us at debi@htv.co.il