Most days, one of the first things Barbara does when she wakes up is check the news feeds on her phone. If nothing else, we’ll find out if it will be hotter than usual or even hotter than that in our part of the world. But a few days ago, she read an announcement in Ivrit that she shared with me. To honor the memory of a young soldier from our community, Yonadav Raz Levenstein, who had fallen in battle a day or two before, there would be a Civilian Honor Procession starting down the hill in Mitzpe Nevo and going through the city and continuing on Midbar Yehuda, a main road around the corner from us, until the city exit. We couldn’t figure out if that meant that people would be walking or driving. If they were walking, I figured, when they reached us, I would go down and join the march, my Israeli flag – formerly to protest, now to show unity – in hand. The procession was supposed to begin at 9AM, but, this being Israel…… Starting at about 9:30, I took my position, cup of tea in hand, by our living room window. No matter who, what, when, or where, if they came our way, I would see them. Sure enough, starting at about 9:40 I noticed a dramatic increase in vehicular traffic. Well, that answered my question. A fleet of cars, stretching for blocks and blocks came by. No way I could join them on foot.  I later noticed a post on our Anglo email group that the procession wasn’t just a local affair; they were on their way to Har Hertzl for the military funeral, so of course they were driving. What I should have done was stand on the street waving my flag, paying silent tribute to the fallen soldier, as some other people did – but I didn’t think of it in time. Another small opportunity to contribute that eluded me – alas.

However, Barbara gets some if-at-first-you-don’t succeed points for a different venture. As I mentioned in a previous article, Natania suggested that her mother contact Yad Sara, as they were looking for volunteers to repair equipment, of course with her caveat, leave daddy at home. Let me demonstrate why my services would not be of any use to anybody as a fix-it person. Our laser printer had announced more than a week ago that it was low on toner. But, wouldn’t you know it, it decided to reach the no-more-ink mark Fri. afternoon at 3PM when I was trying to print out some reading material for Shabbat. I was able to remove the old cartridge. I was even able to take the new toner out of the box. Now all I needed to do was place the new cartridge in its holder and insert that back into the slot in the printer. What am I doing wrong? I didn’t want to interrupt Barbara, who was upstairs folding laundry, but….. If you are trying to fit the cartridge in backwards, it probably won’t work. (A good life lesson!) I took the now properly fitted cartridge downstairs. I should be able to get the holder back into the printer; I’ve done that before. Once again, I was doing it backwards.

So, no, you don’t want me mucking about, trying to repair a wheelchair or some similar piece of equipment. (Fred, that walker we gave you to fix. Me: What did I do wrong? The problem is, the way you put the wheels back on, the person would have to walk backwards. Or else crawl on his hands and knees. Tell you what, they’re davening mincha over there. Why don’t you join them?)

Barbara, she’s the one you want if something needs fixing. Barbara called Shimon, the guy at Yad Sara and arranged to show up one afternoon. But Shimon wasn’t there when Barbara arrived, and Barbara wound up searching high and low for a pair of scissors so she could cut up a large piece of cloth into manageable pieces so she could clean a well-used (but not soiled) potty chair. The only such implement she could find was attached to a wall with a string and was unable to cut through anything thicker than toilet paper. Someone finally found a manageable rag and Barbara completed her mission.

Some of us would be dissuaded from continuing after this inauspicious beginning, but my wife is made of sterner stuff. She called up this here Shimon fellow and sweetly explained her dissatisfaction. The second time she showed up, suitable rags were made available, and Barbara got high marks in wheelchair cleaning. (You may notice that at Yad Sara, the guys get to fix and the gals get to clean.) The third time, Barbara was back to potty chairs, but at least this time she was able to help fix one that needed some tinkering. At this rate, who knows how far Barbara will be able to climb up the corporate ladder? I thought to ask if this repair operation was on-going, or was it just started after the war? It’s been ongoing, but they are anticipating an increased demand for their equipment, things being the way they are. May it not come to that.

Barbara will be taking a break from this needed work. I’ll be going with her tomorrow (Wed. Nov. 7) for her second cataract surgery. It’s perhaps a tribute to our country’s resilience that such procedures are going on as scheduled in these troubled times. And on that note…