KUMMUNIQUE

Shalom! We are proud to present another issue of Kummunique.
This issue is filled with Aliyah and Eretz Yisrael inspiration - so enjoy!

In this issue you will find:

1. "My Mother's Miracle" by Malkah Fleisher
2. "Fruit of the Land - Israel´s Wine Revolution" by Ezra Halevi
3. "The Transatlantic Commuter - Living in Israel, Working in the States" by Dodi Tobin, Chaim I. Waxman
4. "My True Story About Burial In Israel" Keren Neshama Burdt

***Check out Ezra's latest NBN Aliyah photo essay***

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1. "My Mother's Miracle" by Malkah Fleisher

For the last 6 weeks, my mother has been in a coma. For those of you who weren't aware of this horrible story, suffice it to say that my mother had an accident which landed her in the hospital with a brain injury and a heart attack, and she has been fighting for her life since.

Since the first moment, she has been receiving world class medical care. However, during the course of this sudden illness, my husband and I, my family, my friends, and even my listeners at Israel National Radio have been praying for my mother. We have visited the ohel of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, consulted a kabbalist, and shared her Hebrew name with anyone who might add her name in their daily prayers. And of course, we have worried, and waited.

Two days ago, after having her tracheostomy removed, my mother spoke for the first time in 6 weeks. She uttered the words: "Give me some Jew food!" I kid you not.

The process of awakening from a coma is gradual, featuring stages including confusion, unusual language or expressions, aggression, hilarity, etc. My mother, not a person who is in the habit of referring to anything as "Jew food", is in one of these intermediate stages. So it was all the more shocking as her theme carried over into everything she said.

She asked for a food she hates: matzah (she rejected one of her favorites: lobster). She asked for gefilte fish. She asked for Ahava lotions from Israel. And then she said that a rabbi came to visit her. There was a rabbi from a Conservative synagogue who visited my mother during the early stages of her hospitalization. I would be surprised if she remembered him, seeing as she didn't remember that I came to visit, which would have been much more meaningful to her. It is still unclear who this "rabbi" was, but he was juxtaposed to some "little scumbags with mustaches". When I tell this story, some people burst out laughing. But for me, her words signal something much more serious – a heavenly court. I believe that my mother was taken before the heavenly court, or otherwise brought to face forces of good and evil. And the "rabbi" saved her.

My father and my sister, who do not perform the commandments that our Creator set out for us in the Torah, are utterly shocked by my mother's semi-conscious revelations. My father has expressed his belief that my mother met Satan. My sister is considering "becoming more Orthodox". As for me, I believe that my decision to become religious and to move to the Land of Israel, may have had a role in my mother's recovery, and I am humbled and astounded by the mercy and goodness of G-d. This is the power of prayer. This is the merit of the Land of Israel.

So in honor of my mother and the miraculousness of her recovery, I offer this recipe for real "Jew Food":

Malkah's Healing Chicken Soup

1/2 chicken, fresh or thawed

8 allspice balls

1 large onion, halved

the stems of one bunch of parsley, tied together

5 cloves garlic, chopped

1 parsnip, peeled and sliced

3 carrots, peeled and sliced

1 medium sweet potato, cubed

1 large white potato, cubed

1 stalk celery, chopped (or the tops from a bunch of celery)

4Tbs salt

Fill stock pot 3/4 full with water. Add salt, bring to boil. Add the potatoes, garlic onion, and boil for 10 minutes. Add the remainder of the ingredients and boil until you can easily pull the chicken apart in shreds. Try not to overcook. Remove the chicken, cut in chunks, return to soup. Removed the parsley, the onion, and the celery tops (if you chopped a stalk, leave it in). Serve hot, and savor the Jewishness.

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2. "Fruit of the Land - Israel´s Wine Revolution" by Ezra Halevi
From Israel National News
(Click above link for wonderful Israel photos)

The Israel Museum recently hosted an Israeli wine festival showcasing Israel's finest vintners and their vintages, for some of Israel's finest tasters, as well as local Jerusalemite enthusiasts.

In addition to the flavorful assortment that Israel's wineries have to offer the public, are unique and powerful narratives, often connecting modern vineyard techniques to their location's biblical past.

Winemakers, some looking like they came from northern Tel Aviv and others looking like they came from a windswept hilltop waxed poetic about the local soil, time of harvest and strain of grape – and how all contributed to the bouquet of flavor encased in the bottles in front of them.

Although much of Israeli society has moved away from agriculture, the global demand for kosher wine has breathed new life into one of the most indigenous practices of the Land of Israel. Producing kosher wine, by definition, necessitates not only Avoda Ivrit (Hebrew labor) - that Jews perform every step of the process – but that the winemakers be intimately in touch with the soil, rainfall and topography of their vineyards.

Each Israeli winery has a story and is fiercely proud of its region and methods of fermentation and storage. The Tishbi family began its wine story in 1882, when Malka and Michael Chamilnetzki made Aliyah to the Holy Land from Russia and settled at the foot of Zichron Yaakov, in the village of Shefeya. They adopted the name Tishbi, which is a Hebrew acronym for "resident of Shefeya in Israel." They produced grapes for Carmel Winery, Israel's largest winery, now its neighbor in Zichron Yaakov. Twenty years ago, though, Jonathan Tishbi, whose black and white photo graces the labels of Tishbi's prize wines, decided to open his own winery.

"Israel has undergone a wine revolution," Or Leshem of Tishbi Winery said after swishing the 2003 Cabernet Sauvignon he was showcasing at the Israel Wine Festival in Jerusalem this week.

Initially using grapes from the area, Tishbi now sends Or Leshem to taste and test grapes all across Israel, searching for the best fruits for their wine. The 2003 Cabernet was made using grapes from both Kfar Yovel, in the north, and Gush Etzion, south of Jerusalem.

Tishbi's white wines featured a new innovation, showcased at the festival though not yet available to the wider market: screw tops instead of corks. "People generally think wine with a screw-top is of less quality," Leshem explains, "but in fact, for white wines and young red wines, the only way I can be certain that they will taste exactly the way it tasted to me immediately before bottling is with the screw-cap."

According to Leshem, research on alternatives to corks has been underway for a long time. Traditional corks allow a certain amount of oxidization to occur which results in changed taste in almost 10 percent of bottles. However, to change the common perceptions of the public, Leshem believes the industry must undergo a marketing effort to rid screw-caps of the low-quality stigma before they are used widely.

Though years ago Israeli wines all shared the stigma of being sweet Kiddush wine, they are now present at wine competitions across the globe and take home medals against the best French and Italian wines. The drastic improvement is due, in no small part, to the influx of French Jewish immigrants to Israel in recent years, in addition to the increasing demand for fine kosher wines.

Kfar Tabor Winery offered the festival-goers its 2005 Sauvignon Blanc, which is a dry white wine, yet tastes quite sweet. "It is a completely dry wine," insists the winemaker, "not semi-dry, but dry. There are less than 2 grams of sugar, but the flavors of caramel and honey, which come from the unique soil of the region, manifest themselves strongly."

The winery is located on the African-Syrian Fault Line, resulting in a unique phenomenon whereby four unique kinds of soil are present in the region: clay, chalk, volcanic and terra rosa (red soil). Each of the soils gives unique qualities to the grapes grown upon it. "Chalky soil gives the grapes acidity, fruitiness and a mineral quality," the winemaker explained. "Terra rosa gives warmth, richness and the flavors of tobacco, blackberries and plums; clay makes the flavors even more extreme and volcanic soil makes for smooth and light wine."

The Ella Valley Winery is located near ancient winepresses in the Gush Etzion-Beit Shemesh region. It is seven years old and the winemaker said it takes four or five years for grapes to reach a maturity necessary to produce wine. In any event, according to Jewish law, fruit of the tree and vine cannot be used in the first three years as it has the Biblical status of orla.

The Tanya Winery is truly a return to the roots of Biblical Jewish wine making. Wine was a crucial part of the services and sacrifices in the Holy Temple and the regions north and south of Jerusalem were covered with vines and speckled with wine-presses. Winemaker Yoram Cohen, born in the Negev development town of Netivot, was one of 17 children. He was "infected with the wine bug" after helping his father produce wine from grapes harvested by local Jewish farmers in the southern Hevron Hills.

In 2000, Cohen decided to close his photographic news agency due to what he calls a "lack of chemistry" with the world of global media. He then began to concentrate on producing the ultimate Jewish wine. He says he believes in "minimal intervention in the growing process," a philosophy he says he applies equally to his own children as well as the grapes. "They both should be allowed to grow up by following their hearts in a loving atmosphere," he says.

He established the winery in 2001 in the Binyamin region town of Ofra. He has no employees and aims to produce 40,000 bottles of wine a year together with his wife and their seven children (one of whom shares her name with the winery).

The grapes used by Cohen were grown in the Hevron Hills and Gush Etzion, as well as the Samarian towns of Dolev and Har Bracha - with the latter being the main source of grapes for the winery. The vines in Har Bracha are on the side of the highest mountain in the region, overlooking Shechem and Joseph's Tomb. The grapes are all harvested at night to ensure that the fermentation process does not begin prematurely.

"Where is Ofra?" asked an excited attendee of the festival after tasting the wine. "
"In the area of the tribe of Binyamin," he answers.

The man's eyes lack a look of recognition until Yoram says, "near Ramallah," and he looks surprised as he asks for a taste of the Cabarnet Savignon.

Another winery whose popularity has taken the market by storm by proudly marketing its location in the center of the Biblical heartland is the Noah/Hevron Heights Winery. The winery is the brainchild and inspiration of a group of dedicated and committed French Jewish immigrants to Israel - to bring kosher winemaking back to the original site of Jewish habitation in the Land of Israel.

The winery produces wines with names like Isaac's Ram and Makhpelah Special Reserve," made with grapes grown near Hevron's Makhpela Cave of the Patriarchs, where the Jewish patriarchs are buried.

Further south, in Judea, is the Yatir Winery, which uses grapes from the Yatir forest – Israel's largest man-made forest, located on the southern edge of Judea bordering on the Negev desert.

The Binyamina Winery, founded in the 50s, has produced much of Israel's wine ever since then. It, like Tishbi, is experimenting with screw-caps on wines such as its Gewürztraminer, which tastes like the essense of summer fruits.

The Dalton Winery, located in a northern Moshav by the same name, produces a wide array of wines, including a white and red marked for export to the US under the name Canaan.

The Israeli wine revolution continues and is strengthening, crossing political lines and geographic terrain in search of depth of taste and, "preparing for the day that wine libations are once again offered in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem," as one man blessed Yoram Cohen before booming, "L'Chaim," and drinking up.

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3. "The Transatlantic Commuter - Living in Israel, Working in the States" by Dodi Tobin, Chaim I. Waxman
From the OU's Jewish Action Magazine

Until recently, evidence suggested that an American's success at aliyah depended upon his willingness to disconnect from the United States. For example, olim who sold their homes in the United States were more likely to remain in Israel than those who held on to them "just in case."Although this observation is still true, a new pattern has emerged indicating that having a foot in the United States may actually enable a successful move.

Specifically, we refer to the growing phenomenon of American olim who continue to work in the United States. In case you doubt the prevalence of this phenomenon, try booking an El Al flight from the United States to Israel for a Thursday evening or from Israel to the United States on a Saturday or Sunday night, especially in business class. These flights are packed with regular commuters. While no precise figures of these commuters presently exist, a good guesstimate would be several hundred or possibly even several thousand.

Moshe Schilit struggled with the decision to commute after he and his wife, Shoshanna, made aliyah in 1986. A computer programmer, Moshe had originally planned to commute for no more than a year, after which he would begin a computer job in Israel that he had already accepted. Ultimately, his company in the United States made him an offer that the couple felt they could not refuse. Today, Moshe is still commuting—he is in the United States three weeks out of every month. "A lot of people thought it odd," Shoshanna admits. "It was not common back then. We didn't plan it this way … but that's the way it worked out."

Some olim, such as Lenny Solomon, the CEO of Shlock Rock, have no choice but to commute. Lenny's work, by its very nature, takes him on tour around the United States and elsewhere. When he's on tour, it's a "travel marathon nightmare." "I perform in concerts all over the country … doing musical outreach," says Lenny, who lives with his wife, Gillian, and their four girls in Beit Shemesh. "We spread Jewish awareness and pride through our music. It's informal Jewish education. The message is 'Be cool; be Jewish. Stay involved; keep learning.' To do that in Israel, I'd have to be fluent in Hebrew, which I'm not." He realizes that unless he makes it "really big," he'll be commuting as he now does "at least until I'm fifty....There's no other option," he says. "I am unable to recreate the profession I have in America here. I would have to work much more, with less satisfaction. It would be incredibly disappointing for me to have to become a Bar Mitzvah or wedding player. It might happen one day, but I'm hoping it won't."

American olim are certainly not the only transnational commuters. However, the phenomenon of American olim who work in the United States appears to be unique. Evidence suggests that there is no other group of transnational commuters who travel such a long distance and in such great numbers. Out of the approximately 3,000 American families who have made aliyah in the past ten years and have remained in Israel, perhaps as many as 30 percent have a family member commuting to work in the United States. This trend is only possible because of recent technological developments, including improved airline services for business-class travelers, which make travel more tolerable; innovations in communications and the growing role of telecommuting. "Outsourcing has become more popular worldwide, so more companies are allowing people to do their jobs off-site," says Daniella Slasky, the director of employment at Nefesh B'Nefesh, an organization that promotes North American aliyah.

Gilad Weinberg is a recent oleh who has taken full advantage of this corporate trend. Gilad, who lives in Ramat Beit Shemesh with his wife, Batia, and their four children, began a "virtual relationship" with his company even before he made aliyah. For several months Gilad worked at home three days a week. When he and Batia became serious about aliyah, he approached his supervisors with the following proposition: He would work at the office 25 percent of the time and at home 75 percent of the time. The company was willing to try it. Gilad currently travels to the United States about twice a month for three days and manages to participate in about 75 percent of the company's meetings.

Commuting to a job in the United States can be advantageous to a new oleh family, ensuring steady income and sidestepping the stress of professionally "starting over." "When you make aliyah, not only are you going through the trauma of immigration, but you are also unemployed,"says Slasky. "The comfort of having a job that you can take with you is significant. For many commuters, the situation is only temporary, with the American job serving as a 'bridge' for six months or a year, ensuring the family an income until a job is found in Israel. "The fear of being unemployed is so strong," Slasky adds, "that employment is often the critical factor in determining whether someone will actually make aliyah. So many people say to me, 'The only way I'll come is if I have a job.'"

Professional growth is another motivation for commuting. Some commuters indicated that they are better able to do what they were trained to do in a cultural environment that is familiar to them. In addition, because the United States is larger and more developed, the potential for professional growth is much greater here. Indeed, evidence indicates that the desire for professional growth and development is one of the major reasons American olim give up on aliyah. It has been estimated that in years past one-third or more of American olim have returned to live in the United States. However, in recent years, the rate of returning olim has declined, and it is entirely possible that the commuting phenomenon is at least partly responsible for the decline.

Contemporary American olim are different from their American predecessors who arrived in the pre-state and early-state years. Whereas the latter tended to be young and single, today's olim are mostly married with young children. In addition, in today's oleh families, the heads of households have completed their education and bring with them several years of work experience. Today's olim are also unique in regard to the occupations they choose, and it is this uniqueness which probably accounts for the relatively large number of commuters to the United States.

Overwhelmingly, the commuters are professionals—accountants, physicians, lawyers, computer specialists and other high-tech professionals—and there is a greater demand for their services in the United States. Data from Israel's Central Bureau of Statistics (CBS), the 2000-2001 National Jewish Population Survey (NJPS) and the US Census Bureau starkly demonstrate that there is a higher rate of professionals and managers among American olim than among Jews who remain in the United States.

Among American olim, 82 percent of those with known occupations are in professional or managerial positions. These individuals are more likely to commute because their jobs are usually flexible and do not require them to be available nine to five, Monday through Friday. Thus, it seems that commuting and telecommuting allow thirty-something-year-old seasoned professionals to seriously consider aliyah. And so ensues an interesting cycle—Israel gains more citizens, but fewer employees. Physicians, in particular, are highly represented among commuter olim.

According to Slasky, doctors choose to commute because "the salary difference [between Israel and the United States] is significant, as opposed to other professions where there is less of a gap." Doctors who wish to practice in Israel must first obtain an Israeli medical license. Licensing includes examinations and an unpaid internship, a process that can take several months or longer. For many American doctors, particularly those with experience, this may seem to be more trouble than it's worth, especially since doctors in Israel are held in lower esteem than their American counterparts.

Debby Jotkowitz, a dermatologist at Hadassah University Medical Center in Jerusalem, and her husband, Alan, a senior physician in the Soroka Medical Center in Be'er Sheva, decided to forgo higher salaries and prestige for a higher ideal when they made aliyah in 2001. "One of the goals of aliyah is to contribute to Israeli society, and that was most important to us," says Alan. "Practicing medicine in Israel also enabled us to integrate into Israeli culture in a way we couldn't have done otherwise."

Modern travel has impacted the workplace so that even those with Israelbased jobs may be spending more time traveling for work. Three years ago, Ari Solomont, his wife, Sara Beth, and their four children, moved from Boston to Chashmonaim, a yishuv situated midway between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. Ari, who had served as regional director of the New England Region of NCSY (National Conference of Synagogue Youth), the Orthodox Union's youth group, for ten years, was appointed international director of resource development at Ner LeElef in Jerusalem, a position he loves but which requires him to travel to the United States for ten days each month. While not overjoyed that Ari has to travel, Sara Beth feels that "this job is … really him."

The commuting phenomenon can also be viewed as having positive financial consequences for Israel. The commuters earn their money abroad and spend the bulk of it in Israel. But what of the impact of commuting upon the emotional well being of the marriage and family? The Schilits, who live in Beit Shemesh and have four children, three of whom were born after Moshe was already commuting, made a point of normalizing their situation from the outset. "Everybody creates their own 'normal,'" says Shoshanna. "I recently read an article about husbands who cope with wives stricken with breast cancer. They said that the adjustment period is hard, and then they come to some kind of reality that they call the 'new normal.' This [commuting] is our 'new normal.'"

"It's a way of life. Period," says Moshe. "Sometimes it's easy, sometimes hard…. [Our kids] know it's our way of life and they don't question it." Shoshanna contends that maintaining routine is essential. "We don't stop school; we don't stop homework; we don't stop tests; we don't stop bedtime routine…. It's normal for Abba to be in and out … but we still do what we have to do." Shoshanna is extremely positive about the benefits of her husband's commute, which include material ease as well as being able to visit relatives overseas and to send their kids to summer camp in the United States. But Shoshanna, who is a commuting "veteran" of nineteen years, emphasizes that getting used to this lifestyle takes time.

For many new oleh families, simultaneously adjusting to a life in Israel and to a commuting arrangement is a real strain. On the one hand, most women whose husbands commute to the United States don't have to worry about spending money, and don't have to work. This enables them to focus their energies on setting up a home, adjusting to a new culture and meeting the needs of their children. In addition, many couples report that when the commuters are home they are able to spend more "couple" time than they were prior to making aliyah. The commuters also tend to take active roles in regard to household chores and are highly engaged with their children. Still, many would be hard-pressed to deem the arrangement ideal.

"This is the sacrifice we have to make in order to live in Eretz Yisrael," affirms Sara Beth. "But I want my children to know that it's not normal for their father to be away ten days every month. It's not how it's supposed to be." "The biggest challenge for me is knowing what my wife is facing," says Ari. "What she is doing shouldn't be done alone. She's not a single mother."

Avi Silverman, a director of social services at Nefesh B'Nefesh, views commuting as "doable" but a "totally bedi'eved [ex post-facto] situation." "I wouldn't rule it out if it's necessary, but you have to know all the permutations of what a marriage is going to be like," he says. The recognition that many new olim are grappling with challenges arising from the commuting life has prompted the Nefesh B'Nefesh Social Services Department to set up a support group for commuter families. The group offers support, validation and assistance in coping with a range of issues that stem from the commuting lifestyle.

"At night when the kids [all need] me at once, and Ari isn't around, … learning how to juggle—that is probably the hardest thing for me," admits Sara Beth. Silverman observes that some of the women who come to the support sessions express resentment about the commute and the challenges they are left to face alone. Silverman voices some of the sentiments he hears from some of the wives: "If [the commute] had been in five years and I was settled, it would be okay. But I'm not settled. I'm trying to get my kids settled; I don't have a chevrah. I'm still figuring out where the supermarkets are while [my husband] is back in the [United States] where everything is easy and familiar. He brought me here to deal with all of this alone?"

These reactions are in line with studies of families in the United States who were forced to relocate because of the husband's job. In the studies, the wives and children in these families were found to harbor anger about the move. How do the husbands feel about leaving? According to Silverman, some carry guilt that they have caused something akin to a "divorce" within the context of a perfectly good marriage. Their wives serve as "single parents" while they are gone—going to semachot alone, making Shabbat alone. The commuter spouse also has to deal with coming in and out of his family's life, a life that seems to be running smoothly without him. "How much do you [the wife] bring him into your life, how much do you keep him out of your life?" Silverman asks. "How much do the children accept him again, how much do they need to keep their distance because it hurts so much when he comes and goes? These are all serious questions."

Commuting fathers may have to miss many special events in their children's lives, including birthday parties and siyumim. And then there is the inherent loneliness the commuter feels while working in the United States. "I fill my days with volunteer work; I don't have much time to 'pine away,'" says Shoshanna. "Moshe is very busy too, but when he comes home [when in the States], he comes home to empty rooms." Sara Beth concurs. "I can imagine it's very lonely for [my husband]. He never knows where he will be sleeping … he spends a lot of time in the car by himself [in the States], while his reality is here. That's got to be hard."

For Ari, feeling lonely is a good sign. "If you start to like the fact that you are waking up alone, then it's time to stop commuting." Although commuter couples face significant challenges, several women report that the experience contributes to their personal growth. "We bought an apartment in Rechovot, and I fixed it up," says Shoshanna. "I ran everything: I dealt with kablanim [contractors] and shiputzim [renovations]. All these were 'empowerment experiences.'"

"Know where your bank account is and where your life insurance papers are and how to turn the gas on and off," adds Sara Beth. "If those are things you've relied upon your husband for … you figure it out. You have to find the inner strength…. You have to try to see the good. You can either be miserable and make everyone around you miserable or you can make the best of it. You have that choice. How do you want to live your life?" It seems obvious that in order to successfully navigate the demands of a commuting life in Israel, you need a solid marital foundation. In Moshe's view, a strong marriage is so vital that he cautions, "If your wife is not sure about it or [is] questioning it, I would say, don't even think about it. You're going to fail."

And what of the impact of commuting on the children? "I think in the beginning everyone has a rocky time. They don't know what it means that Abba is going away for a week or two weeks or even a month," says Silverman, but "the kids get used to it. Kids are malleable. If they see that their parents are shalem [complete], kids can deal with it," he says. "Once the parents bring in tension, it filters down." Realistically, the full impact of commuting on these children will only be known in years to come. Unlike twenty years ago, when the Schilits spoke once a week at three dollars a minute, the technological advances of today enable commuters to keep in constant contact with family members via telephone and e-mail.

Ongoing contact no doubt lessens the feeling of abandonment amongst all family members. Shoshanna says that she and Moshe are in touch two or three times a day. "Moshe makes time to learn with the boys on the telephone, as often as needed.. .. We feel that the telephone is in place of the psychiatrist's couch. We don't need counseling because we are communicating. We feel investing in the telephone calls is good for our marriage, and good for our connection."

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4. "My True Story About Burial In Israel" Keren Neshama Burdt

My Dear Brother passed away suddenly at the age of 52, back in August of 2001. Now my father and stepmother are NOT Jewish. In fact my brother did not live a Jewish religious life. This was due to the fact that my Jewish mother left while we were young and was unable to take care of us. So my father and stepmother raised us. Only by hashgacha pratis, did I and my husband become a BT about 9 years ago. We started attending services at our local Chabad house B" H.The rest as they say is history. Now our 3 children are learning about being Jewish too. G-d willing our grandchildren will be raised as Jews.

My brother was cremated without my knowledge by my father and stepmother before they even had a service for him. Then his ashes sat on a table in my parents dining room next to a picture of him. It bothered me deeply. Then less than 2 years later my father died after complications of open heart surgury. Of course my stepmother had him cremated also and it was his wish, so nothing I could say or do about it. But my DH (Dear Husband) & I were planning our first trip to Eretz HaKadosh. So we approached my stepmother and asked if we could take my brothers ashes to Israel with us to bury him there. Well my stepmother & my sisters (who are 1/2 sisters) were not happy about this at all. But we would not take no for an answer and I explained how beneficial it would be for his soul, since he is by birth a Jew. I also approached my niece who was wholeheartedly in favor of him being buried in Israel.

So we got permission and last year in October of 2005 we took off for Israel and packed his ashes in our suitcase. Of course it was confiscated by the Israeli customs agents and they opened it to make sure there wasn't a bomb inside. I was not happy about this, but they brought the ashes to us 2 days later where we were staying in Netanya. We made several trips to Jerusalem where I wanted to find a place to bury my brother. I couldn't find a place to do it. Finally a day before we were due to return home, we walked outside of our hotel and waived a Taxi. By hashgacha pratis, Hashem brought us the kindest man who ever drove a Taxi. We explained to him that we were trying to find a place to bury my brother who had been cremated against his will. So he took us to the Mt. of Olives Cemetary. They told us to call a certain Rabbi that deals with the burials there, and he was not receptive to having my brother buried, in fact he wanted us to prove to him that we were Jews and that my brother was Jewish. Of course we didn't bring his death certificate and had no proof of his being Jewish. So this dear Taxi driver took us across town to his Rabbi in the neighborhood that he grew up in. He told us he would take the rest of the day to take us wherever we needed to go, as he wanted to make sure we were able to fulfill our mission. We talked to his Rabbi for a while and he made some calls, but since we didn't have a death certificate we couldn't bury him in a cemetary in Jerusalem or anywhere else in Israel.

I was crushed. We had come all this way and now we had to return home in 24 hours. How could I find a place to bury him... Well... we got in our rental car and headed back to Netanya. On the way down from Jerusalem I prayed to Hashem regarding the matter... All of a sudden I felt something telling me to take the exit to Modi'in there was a sign that said there was the entrance to the Ayalon Forest. So I told my husband to pull off to the entrance to the Forest. We went through the entrance and there was no one in sight, but there were picnic tables and a place to park. So we parked and started walking around. I told my husband that this is where Hashem wants us to bury him. So we went up and up the hill to almost the very top. It was so peaceful and quiet, so beautiful. You could actually see the back-side of Jerusalem from there. We found a spot above an ancient stone wall and between 2 ancient olive trees.

It was perfect! We dug a hole and I opened the box and poured his ashes in the hole. I covered it and placed some rocks on top of it. Then I took out my siddur and said a burial prayer for my brother. My daughter was taking pictures with our digital camera. The strangest thing happened... the pictures turned out an eerie silver & black color for about 2 to3 minutes the camera did this. (Please see attached photo) We also felt this very warm and peaceful feeling settle over the place. We were in awe of Hashem at this moment. Everyone who has seen these pictures says it is as if my brother's soul was released at that moment and he was letting us know that he was happy about being buried there, and was finally at rest. I know we did the right thing and now when we return to Israel I know that my brother is there and at peace. G-d willing we will make aliyah and not have to leave, and we too will be able to be buried in Eretz HaKadosh! Amein v'amein!