Weapon of Choice

It's amazing the beautiful Jews you're guaranteed to observe during late-night trips to the Kotel. A couple of nights ago I was posted up near one of my favorite spots for nights at the Kotel, towards the back right corner (the other being in the tunnel tucked right into the front left corner closest to the Kadosh Kadoshim). There are two main reasons this spot is so great. First of all it's usually the least crowded and if you plan on spending a long amount of quality time with Hashem it affords you the opportunity to have your space and avoid distractions. Secondly it will seat you next to a nightly shiur given by a quite fiery-voiced rav, the passion for Torah of which can really be inspiring. A third reason for any single guys out there is the thought that you never know... your zivug could be davening at that exact moment just a mere several yards away from you on the other side of the mechitza and you don't even know it. Anyway, several evenings ago while I was enjoying a particularly good session of Kotel time, a soldier walked in. He was carrying his weapon strapped over his shoulder and walking hand in hand with his young son. He pulled up a chair and a shtender, sat down, and his son said something inaudible to him. He smiled and gave his weapon to his son at which point he put the barrel up to his mouth. Several moments later he took it and put it up to his own mouth.

You see, this wasn't a normal soldier. His uniform wasn't green with reddish brown boots and a beret. It was a large white kippah, flowing white shirt and pants, and bright orange crocs. And his weapon was an M-16 or the like, though it had a strap attached to it like one. This weapon was his extra large shofar... this man was a soldier of Hashem. It's hard to describe how beautiful the notes sounded coming out of his horn as he blew it proudly. He we all were, at the sight of our two destroyed holy temples, thousands of years without them, and during the nine days leading up to the anniversary of their mutual destruction. Yet even in a time of seeming despair and mourning such as this, this man sounded the shofar's cry of our redemption and, if for just a few seconds, reminded us that we may be mourning now, but that will soon come to an end. The geuala is on it's way, and if you need proof, just take a late-night trip to our holy Kotel and wait for Hashem to give you a sign.