The summer sun’s rays made their way through the window of my room. They gently caressed my face and woke me from a sweet sleep. It was another day of activities in Camp Oro Shel Moshiach.
I enjoy being punctual. Within a few minutes I had already immersed in the warm mikva and was standing ready for the morning routine. The rest of the kids in my bunk appeared one after the other and finally, after everyone else, right before the head counselor came in, Shmuli came running. He is my classmate as well as my bunkmate.
“That’s not like him,” I thought. “Shmuli usually tries to be early and he doesn’t like to waste time in the morning. I think something is going on…”
The firm voice of the head counselor penetrated my thoughts, letting me know that the morning routine was underway. My concern for Shmuli made it hard to concentrate but I quickly joined the others in the exciting reality of camp and forgot about Shmuli’s unusual tardiness.
At breakfast I sat next to Shmuli and noticed that he looked tense. “What’s bothering him so much?” I wondered and I continued watching his tense face until our eyes suddenly met. I immediately turned my head and stared at the colorful banner on the wall. “Maybe he did not sleep well last night and he’s just tired,” I tried to convince myself, but my heart told me that something was going on.
We had a packed schedule that day. Our two counselors urged me and my bunkmates to hurry and get to our usual activity site. We then immediately got involved with an interesting game that the Activity Director came up with. In the middle of the game, Yossi, a kid from another bunk, came running. He exclaimed, “You won’t believe what happened!”
Shmuli jumped up and asked, “Was the operation a success?”
“What operation?” Yossi asked in confusion.
“Oh, nothing,” mumbled Shmuli, but Yossi continued excitedly.
“They announced that soon a wealthy donor is coming to camp and we need to clean up. I happen to think it’s a practical joke, but this is what they told me to tell you.”
We quickly finished the game and joined the thorough clean-up of the camp. We were divided into pairs and I asked the counselor that I be paired with Shmuli. Together we headed for the large playing field while I tried to guess what was bothering him. Maybe he was homesick or maybe he did not feel comfortable in the bunk or perhaps someone in his family wasn’t well.
After a few minutes of silence, I decided to speak directly to Shmuli and offer my help. He was momentarily taken aback and then said, “My little brother hurt his foot and is having an operation today. My mother told me the operation is not complicated and all will be fine but I’m still worried. Since this morning I cannot relax and I’m waiting for good news that the operation was a success.”
He breathed deeply and continued, “I don’t know if you noticed but I wasn’t concentrating at all on the game. I kept thinking about my brother and the operation. Whatever I did I connected to the operation and so when Yossi came to tell us about the rich donor who is coming to visit, my first thought was that he was coming to tell me that the operation was a success.”
Shmuli spoke quickly and I could see he was happy to unburden himself. “I remember I once asked my mother to buy me a briefcase and instead of telling me whether she could or could not, she said, ‘Wow, that reminds me of when I was a little girl, I went with Zaidy to buy a briefcase at the beginning of the school year. It was special to go to the store with Zaidy. In his youth, he worked in a factory that produced writing implements and he knew all the tricks and special gadgets like the pen with disappearing ink and the fanciest pencil.’
“I wondered, why was my mother all of a sudden telling me about a childhood experience that had nothing to do with my request? A few days later I understood. My mother happily announced that my grandparents, who lived abroad, would be coming to visit us after many years of our not seeing them. My mother was so excited, that ever since she heard of their upcoming visit, she was constantly recalling childhood experiences. She immediately connected everything to her memories of her parents.
“I’m the same way. Since the operation began, I have been connecting everything to it.”
“Now I understand,” I said.
“What do you understand?” asked Shmuli curiously.
“I understand what Shneur the counselor meant.
“Last night, when we sat down around the bonfire upon which we cooked a tasty soup, and we farbrenged with the counselors, the counselor named Shneur said that a Jew always finds a connection to Geula. For example, if he hears the word ‘keitz’ he immediately thinks of the end of galus.
“Now I understand why this is so. A Jew yearns for the Geula and truly waits for it, it fills his thoughts. In everything he sees, hears or reads, he immediately looks for the connection to the Geula since he ‘lives’ with it and this is what is on his mind.”
Shmuli nodded and said, “I think that in my situation we can also find a connection to the Geula. The galus is compared to an operation. It hurts, it isn’t comfortable, but this is how a person can heal. I remember reading about it once in a Moshiach Yom Yom column. Since the entire purpose of the painful treatment is to heal, the painful treatment itself is part of the good ending, even though it is not that apparent at first.”
“Exactly,” I chimed in. “And we all yearn to hear the news that the operation ended and the sick person recovered, that is, that the galus ended and the Geula came.”
We suddenly heard a lively ringtone. Shneur the counselor was approaching us. He handed his phone to Shmuli. After a few seconds, a big grin spread over Shmuli’s face and he whispered to me excitedly, “The operation was a success, boruch Hashem.”
I was happy for him and imagined the great joy we would have the moment we heard the news about the Geula. Until then, we will constantly wait for it and think about it.