The Day I Covered My Hair—And My Son Was Saved

Maggie Sabag, a mother from Israel, has been on a path of spiritual growth for over a decade. It all began 11 years ago when her husband started becoming more religious. At first, she wasn’t so interested. “I told him, ‘You’re going to take away our fun Shabbat trips?!’” she remembers with a smile. But her husband gently continued on his path, never forcing anything on her. One day, she decided to try keeping just one Shabbat—and everything changed. “I fell in love with the beauty of Torah and Judaism,” she says.

About two months ago, Maggie’s son joined the army in a combat unit. Naturally, as a mother, she was full of worry. It was the month of Elul—a special time for teshuvah (spiritual reflection and growth)—and Maggie felt a strong pull to do something extra, something meaningful for her son’s safety.

So she made a brave decision: she took the TV out of their living room and replaced it with a bookshelf full of sefarim (Jewish books). “But something inside told me it wasn’t enough,” she said. “I felt deep down that I needed to cover my hair fully. Even though I dress modestly, this step felt harder. But I knew—that’s exactly where the real commitment was. That’s what would bring bracha (blessing) and protection to my children.”

One morning, without overthinking it, Maggie got dressed for work and covered her hair completely. “I felt calm, peaceful. I didn’t even think, ‘What will people say?’ I just felt whole.”

Not long after, her son called her. He told her something strange: “While I was sitting in class with the other soldiers, they suddenly called me out and said I was being moved to a different platoon. I don’t know why—they didn’t even explain.”

A few days later, on a Shabbat when Hamas terrorists attacked bases near Gaza, her son’s new platoon had been sent home for Shabbat. But his old platoon—the one he had already adjusted to—had stayed on base. That base was attacked and soldiers were killed.

Her son was saved.

Maggie’s voice trembles as she shares: “What are the chances? On the same day I covered my hair fully for the first time, my son was the only one pulled out of his group and moved? He didn’t even go through the trauma of being there during the attack. Hashem was clearly watching over him.”

Her message to others is simple: “Start small. Even one act of tzniut (modesty), one small commitment—Hashem sees it all. And when you do something that’s hard for you, that’s exactly where the bracha comes. Don’t be afraid. Try it—and you’ll see wonders.”