Yitzhak Shlomo: "I Lost My Parents, But Not My Smile"

I did not understand where the young scholar before me drew his strength, but from the passion in his eyes, it was clear there was a life story here. It was at the Maayanei Hayeshua hospital during a hospitalization with my young child. Don't worry, it wasn't Corona, just 'only' flu and pneumonia, but it was enough to disrupt our daily routine.

From a place of boredom, any movement becomes a source of interest. Then, a young scholar appeared, distributing various treats. In regular times they're a bonus, but there, in the hospital, they are a necessity. 'I know your place closely,' he told me when I noticed a tear glistening in the corner of his eye. 'For two years, I accompanied my parents who fell ill one after the other. For two years, I didn’t know what home was, the places I knew best were only hospitals, both here and abroad, and I truly know what it means not to be at home.' When I dared to ask about his parents’ health, I noticed through his eyelashes that I had fired too probing and painful a question. I fell silent.

The Will that Led to Volunteering

Yitzhak Shlomo (22) has been married for about a year, lives in Bnei Brak, and doesn't spare himself. Every Friday, accompanied by a team of friends and volunteers, he appears at Maayanei Hayeshua hospital where he distributes a special package in honor of the holy Shabbat to the patients. As I looked at the package, my eyes were drawn to its contents. Besides the sweet treats, there was also a 'sweet treat' for the soul, none other than the colorful, interesting, and varied Hidabroot newsletter.

When did your activity here at Maayanei Hayeshua begin?

'My activity is not just a regular volunteer’s desire to give of myself. My activity is a will, it comes from being there, knowing, understanding, and feeling the need to receive something when the head isn't exactly screwed on right,' he replies to me seriously. When Yitzhak mentions the word 'will', I start to understand the story, but then I realize I underestimated its significance.

You said it’s a kind of will that drives you to this activity. May you elaborate more?

He nods his head and begins his story: 'Four years ago, when I was a single young man, the youngest child of my parents, my mother fell ill with cancer. I don't want to bore you with how much upheaval it caused our home in general, and for me as a young man in particular. But I understood I had to be strong. Dad always talked about faith, how we need to believe that Hashem knows exactly what He wants from us, even if we don’t understand it now. But that was just the beginning of the story. A few months after my mother started treatments, we were told that my father also fell ill with cancer. This was a much bigger shock. It felt like a sinking ship. All its captains were no longer navigating it, and I, the young one, the only one at home, had to take command.

'I had no other choice,' Yitzhak adds, 'and I embarked on a world-embracing journey, accompanying my parents to every hospital that gave them a chance, or actually gave me a chance not to be an orphan. Thus, I traveled between one hospital and another, between the hospital where my mother was hospitalized and the one where my father was. But unfortunately, about two years ago, in the month of Nissan, my mother passed away after a two-year battle. I remained to fight for my father. But when Av arrives, joy diminishes, and in the month of Av that followed, my father returned his soul to his Creator. And I, where am I to go? A lone orphan in the world, without a father or mother.'

The Ability to Rise

You left me speechless. How do you really continue from here?

'In our house, we always grew up with faith, it was the first thing in life. Dad, may he rest in peace, always emphasized belief in the Master of the Universe. He always used to say: 'This world will fly away as a dream, eighty spins and we are not here,' that's what Dad instilled in us. Allow me to share a parable that was constantly on his lips: it happened in a village where all the residents were wealthy. They had so much money that it was strewn across the streets. Opposite was a village of poor people who had nothing, certainly not money. Between them was the UN, a group of neutral soldiers, maintaining the delicate fabric between the sides. One bright day, a soldier decided on his own that the social gaps between the two villages were unrealistic, and decided to act. He sneaked in at night into the village of the rich, transferring money to the village of the poor. Anyone who considers the parable understands that the soldier's intent was compassion, but we know it's theft. It’s not his money, despite the desire to help. The analogy - in this world we see cases, and we feel compassion. I lost both my parents in a short time, and everyone pities me. And what about Hashem? Isn’t He compassionate? Surely He is, and He knows exactly what He did, and not everything that is considered mercy in our eyes is true mercy. Just like the soldier who pities, but is actually a thief. Yes, I feel immense pain and sorrow, great longing. But also strong faith alongside it.'

Yitzhak bites his lips and decides to tell me a little more about his parents: 'Dad turned to faith at the age of twenty - despite the great test he faced, holding an electronics engineer degree, which was considered very rare at the time. He told his father that this world is all vanity, took his feet and went to the Negev Yeshiva, under Rabbi Yissachar Meir z"l. After becoming religious, he married Mom and went to study Torah at the Breslov kollel in Bnei Brak, where he learned for thirty years. Afterward, the head of the kollel asked him to go out and teach in public. Dad initially refused, but after persuasion, he agreed and began giving lessons. He started in small groups until he reached classes with 100 participants or more. He also delivered lessons on YouTube, which received many views, and he was considered a marked influencer in Breslov. This is in addition to the book 'The Secret Within You' he wrote, about the ways each person deals with life events, and the complications that follow.

'Mom spent her entire life guiding young brides. She not only guided brides but was also an instructor for special education teachers. These are women who deal with girls from special education who are approaching married life. She had a special method on such a sensitive topic. Additionally, she published booklets on the purity of the home and the Jewish beauty of a daughter of Israel.'

Throughout my conversation with Yitzhak, the subject of faith was constantly on his lips, almost intertwined with the mention of his father. I almost ask him where it came from, but he anticipates me: 'Dad only talked about faith throughout his life,' he emphasizes, 'the sole purpose of Dad in this world was, how to serve Hashem. While giving his public lessons, Dad produced discs, distributing them widely in tens of thousands of copies. I remember when I was a young teenager, I asked him: 'Dad, you’re distributing a disc, your cost is a shekel per disc, and you’re selling for a shekel. If you sold for a shekel and a half, by the end of the day, you’d have tens of thousands of shekels in your pocket, why don't you make a living from it?' he answered me: 'My purpose here in this world is not to earn money.' That's the faith we grew up with; it was evident in every aspect of his life. Whenever there was an issue of money, Dad wasn’t there, he was only focused on Torah, he believed that if money was meant for him, it would reach him eventually.'

So you're a young yeshiva boy suddenly left without a father and mother. Who guided you and helped shape your way during this challenging time?

'There are many agents for the place. The people of Israel revealed themselves in their full glory, everyone lent a hand and helped, each in his own field. But it’s impossible not to mention the one and unique rabbi, Rabbi Yitzhak David Grossman of Migdal Haemek, who took me under his wing, drew me close, and encouraged me as a lone orphan in the world. I am invited to his home for Shabbatot, I talk to him on the phone, and he's the one who gave me the strength to rise. The connection with him began when Dad was giving lectures across the country. Through this closeness, they met and bonded. One time I accompanied Dad, and on the way, we went to Rabbi Grossman. He asked me which yeshiva I was attending. I didn't know what to answer because I had no framework at that time. He told me – 'There’s no such thing,' and within a few days, arranged for me to join the 'Chazon Nachum' yeshiva in Bnei Brak. I owe him gratitude for saving my life.'

From Support to Growth

And today I meet you here, at Maayanei Hayeshua hospital, assisting and supporting patients. Why did you decide to pursue precisely this kind of work?

'Rabbi Grossman always told me 'Take the pain, the grief, the loss, and don't bury them because you won't succeed. Instead, channel them into positive things - to action, to momentum, to giving. This way you'll feel much better about yourself.' And that’s exactly what I’m doing. I bring joy to people, I bring a smile to their faces. To your question why this kind of giving? Because I was there, exactly in that place of the recipient, and I know that for me it’s giving some cookies and candies, but for the recipient, it’s far much more, immeasurably. It goes to the heart, and from the heart.'

So how did it all begin? You wake up one morning, go to the grocery store, buy cookies, and distribute them at Maayanei Hayeshua?

'Yes. It’s like that, but not exactly. I talked to friends from the yeshiva and shared the idea with them. Everyone was excited and joined in. We held a small fundraiser among friends, raised a few thousand shekels, and set off. Without a name or titles. After the first time, not only I understood, but every volunteer realized how much good it did for the patients and their family members, and since then we haven’t stopped. We aren’t willing to give up this pleasure.

'There is thought behind the Friday distribution,' Shlomo adds. 'Initially, we debated which day to appear at the hospital, but we decided that throughout the week, when people are bored, they can somehow alleviate the boredom via phone calls, or computer, and various technologies. But on Shabbat, there’s none of that. So what will the patient or their family member do on Shabbat? Therefore, we distribute our treats on Friday, along with a booklet called 'All the Leaflets'. It compiles all the Shabbat newsletters circulating throughout the country, with all their ideas and reflections, so everyone can find something suitable, in addition to the Hidabroot newsletter, which we don’t always manage to distribute to patients, because it’s snatched at the door by guests and medical staff.'

Cases that Give Strength

As part of your activities, you probably encounter various cases, may you share the most moving case you've experienced?

'Over time, we've enhanced our activities, and in addition to distributing treats, we also bring in various musicians and singers who sing, dance, and spread much joy. One of them is the man of kindness, Rabbi Pinchas Sharf, who dedicates his soul and spirit to bringing joy to people. What particularly moved me was one of the occasions where we sang and played. We went from ward to ward, and when we came to a particular ward, the doctor stood in the entrance and said to us: 'You cannot enter here.' If the doctor says so, we certainly do not argue. We continued to another ward. Not a minute passes, and the doctor comes to us quickly: 'Come urgently, come urgently,' he practically pleaded with us to come play, as if a moment ago he hadn’t stood there blocking the entrance to the ward. Of course, we immediately followed him, and there we saw a Jew who had been under sedation for a long time - the doctors hadn’t been able to awaken him. But when we passed by outside with the music, he heard us and immediately woke up. He began to say he wanted more music. The doctors understood that apparently, this was his medicine at the moment, our joy and tunes. So we sang and danced, and this dear Jew truly rejoiced, was moved, and shed tears. In my eyes, this was a victory of spirit, of the soul, over matter, over the body.'

Yitzhak emphasizes to me that this is not an isolated case. 'A mother of one of the hospitalized children approached me this week and told me that her child had not been willing to eat anything for several days, and since he wasn’t consuming anything, the doctors couldn’t give him his medicines, which must be administered with food. But when we arrived at the ward and delighted him, promised him candies and surprises, he agreed to eat, and thanks to this, also receive the medications he needed for his recovery. It's another case that gives us encouragement in our work.'

And what is your future aspiration?

'My aspiration,' he says, 'is that we reach every hospital in the country with our activities. Baruch Hashem, we are expanding day by day, and have even established an organization - 'Meirim Lacholeh', through which we coordinate these activities. This is a place to express gratitude to Maayanei Hayeshua hospital, which hosts us warmly, encourages, supports, and assists our blessed activities.'

In conclusion, Yitzhak emphasizes that the main driving force for his actions is his parents. 'I do this in their memory, I'm sure it brings them joy in heaven. When I occasionally feel distress, I visit them at the cemetery and speak with them as a child speaking his troubles in the parental room, with his father and mother, and they already take care of me.'

To contact Yitzhak: 6325454@gmail.com