Not to say hello, but why can't this ultra-Orthodox help my brother?

From that day when she realized that her ultra-Orthodox neighbor didn't say goodbye to her, she walked around the world with a sense of rage and even a little hate. Only when the war came did she realize a thing or two

Haredi people with it (Photo: ShutterStock)

Religious - only for use in articles (Photo: ShutterStock)

Who needs anxious neighbors?

On the first floor of the corner building where I lived most of my life with my beloved parents, an ultra-Orthodox family lived.
They were my first haredi, the first I knew. Well, if you can call occasional meetings in the elevator and in the 'familiarity' stairwell. Every year, they would build a sukkah in the back parking of the building, and I, as a secular girl who didn't understand what the fuss was about, accepted as a fact the swarms of black-wearing men and hats that come in and out of the back door of our building. For their part, they accepted the secular little girl from the floor above and let me stare at them with probing and curious eyes.

Throughout my high school years, my mind slowly became filled with experiences, opinions, questions and perceptions, and when I reached my high school, we were divided into two: everything that is "us" and everything that is "not us". I did not encounter much of the ultra-Orthodox family downstairs, but I remembered that this family falls under the category of 'not us'. After all, they were so different, looked different, behaved differently, dressed differently, and Rahmana became a photographer, not even going out on Saturdays like us. From time to time, I came across the father of the family in the stairwell when he returned from the synagogue and I was on my way to a Saturday morning, wearing a short denim shirt, a t-shirt and a swimsuit laced up from Shippolia.

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I used to greet him with a good morning greeting, and he almost never replied to me. Sometimes I made sure to say 'Shabbat Shalom', hoping that if I spoke his language, maybe he would answer. My efforts went awry. Over time, I thought to myself that he probably knew I was their "not us" as well, which is probably why he doesn't respond to me. As time went on and as the new editions and newspapers trembled more and more at the gaps between us, I began to suspect that the reason he was unresponsive to me was my unassuming attire. I decided to continue to greet him in spite of the anger that was hidden inside me, as a kind of defiance. Here I am, the secular girl who knows that Derech Eretz preceded the Torah.

It's good that war is coming!

Soldiers at the Gaza Strip (Photo: GettyImages)

The anger grew in me for many years, until one day many kinds of Operation Cliff Eitan. It was evening in early August, and my little brother was getting ready for his high school graduation. Elegant pants, buttoned shirt, and of course - tie. A tie that we did not really manage to tie. We thought Google-Know-All could probably help, and we were looking for YouTube tutorials too, but hell, we couldn't tie the tie properly. In the course of our failed attachment attempts, an alarm pierced the sky. We all ran to the stairwell, and came across it. The father of the ultra-Orthodox family downstairs. I did not understand why I should now stand ten minutes next to the person who is unable to greet me because of my dress, but my cute brother actually took the opportunity to ask him for help, as suits and ties are commonplace.

"Can you help me with the tie?" My brother asked. No answer. "Sorry, can you help me with the tie?" Tried his luck again. No response yet. Now I was really furious inside me, then: "Abraham, talking to you" his wife said suddenly, then apologized to us "Excuse him, he doesn't hear well ... Abraham, they ask if you can help them tie the tie". Then it hit me. Dear Abraham smiled a huge smile, the smile of a man who got a chance to help someone who needed his help, and connected my brother with the tie with patience and joy.

And I, I was just standing there with a smile of understanding and shame, and while an iron dome was intercepting missiles in the sky, I had some prejudice in my head.