That OTHER Israel

How Is the 'Trash Can of History' Doing? I was in the street when the siren sounded. As everyone rushed to find shelter, I heard a little girl ask her mother: "Mom, does this mean that Purim is canceled?" While she was running, her mother replied: "Not at all! Even with the challenges and difficulties, this year we'll have an even happier Purim!"

I don't know who that clever mother was, but she was right. Purim wasn't canceled; it was unfolding in front of our eyes. Purim is the holiday that demonstrates that the Jewish nation is eternal. Thank G od, no one is able to destroy us — not Haman, not Hitler, and not Khameini. Whoever else dreams of doing so will ultimately be destroyed. And when confronted with danger and distress, the Jewish people reclaim their identity, take action, and become even stronger — in those historic days of Purim and today.

Scholarship Stepping-stones It happened just after Simchas Torah, at the temporary school that opened in Jerusalem for hundreds of children evacuated from the Gaza border communities.

"What gives you strength these days?" I asked them.

The answers came quickly: parents and family. Friends. Faith. Torah. The IDF. The unity of the people. The volunteers who show up. Music that carries them through difficult hours.

And then a blond 14-year-old boy, Matania Tzur-Arieh, from Kfar Maimon, raised his hand and said: "The trash can of history."

I asked him to explain.

"I look at our long history," he said, "and at who has been thrown into its trash can over the generations. If we lift the lid, we'll see inside Adolf Hitler, Vladimir Lenin, Joseph Stalin, Osama bin Laden, Saddam Hussein, Amalek, Antiochus, Nebuchadnezzar, Titus, Haman, Achashverosh, Pharaoh… all the wicked are there. The whole gang.

"Today, they're irrelevant. The world moves forward. There's a plan. Evil is not here to stay. It's temporary. The Jewish people are small, but eternal and strong. In the struggle between light and darkness, the place of Yahya Sinwar and Hassan Nasrallah is there too, in the trash can. Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran — they will all end up in the same place. Soon."

I find myself returning to that moment whenever more villains join history's refuse pile, especially over these past two and a half years.

Intellectually, of course, I always knew this. But suddenly, that day, I felt it in my heart as well. Fourteen-year-old Matania, with his gentle smile, interpreted reality for me better than any seasoned commentator could. Daily Learning Adds Up Last week, in the large hall at the Jerusalem offices of Nefesh B'Nefesh, which helps facilitate Jewish settling of the Holy Land, I attended a festive ceremony marking the completion of Nach, the Prophets and Writings, for hundreds of American women who came to Israel with a delegation organized by the Orthodox Union.

Most of us know the "T" of Tanach well: Torah. These are the stories of our childhood: Creation, Noach, the Exodus. The weekly parashah. The steady rhythm of Jewish life. But what about the rest, Nevi'im (Prophets) and

(third and final section of the Hebrew Bible)? Nineteen books: Joshua, Judges, Kings, Isaiah, Amos, Psalms, Proverbs, Song of Songs, and more.

"A Jew can live to 120," Rebbetzin Dr. Adina Shmidman said from the stage, "and still not know entire chapters of Tanach. That's why we launched the Daily Nach project. One chapter a day. In about two years, you finish."

I looked around the room with a touch of envy. Two years ago, these women opened Chapter One of Joshua. Day after day, they continued: Judges, Kings, the Prophets, the Writings. And now they were here. The learning had become part of who they are.

A twelve-year-old girl in New York completed Nach in honor of her bat mitzvah. A ninety-four-year-old woman from Memphis said she wants her tombstone to read: "She completed the Prophets and the Writings."

Tehila Blech of New York has traveled to Israel on five solidarity missions since the war began. This week she marked her completion of Nach at the Nova site. She dedicated her two years of study to the memory of Hadar Hoshen, who was murdered there, and formed a deep bond with the family.

Dr. Shmidman read the final verse of Tanach, from II Chronicles. We all know the Bible's first word: Bereishis — "In the beginning." The final word is: Veya'al — "And let him go up." It speaks of ascending to Jerusalem, to the Holy Temple.

And then it became clear that the Shmidman family was making their own "Veya'al." With emotion, she and her husband announced they are making Aliyah to Israel.

When I rose to speak, I told them that through their daily study of Nach they are holding the secret formula: Connection to identity and roots, together with the power of consistency; an anchor in an age of endless distraction.

Artificial intelligence can summarize the entire Bible in seconds. It can produce presentations, podcasts, translations into any language. It can do almost everything for us. But there's one thing it can't do and that is to truly learn Torah. To toil. To invest. To persevere. And then to come to Jerusalem and celebrate.

I asked them to return to America as ambassadors. Not to give up so quickly on millions of brothers and sisters. Not to leave behind a single disconnected Jew who may not even know what Nach is. To widen the circle, and for each of us to create our own "Veya'al."

To rise a little higher and connect a little deeper.

SERMONETTE: On the Virtue of Being Slow It is told that a certain rabbi was once asked what he thought of the French Revolution. "It's too early to know," he replied. "Only about two hundred years have passed."

In our rapid and restless age, this week's Torah portion offers an important reminder: The Jewish people wait for Moses at the foot of Mt. Sinai, but after about 40 days they lose patience. They cannot bear to wait for the Ten Commandments, and so they rush to create a counterfeit substitute, the Golden Calf. At the root of the sin of the calf lies that very impatience, that urge to have everything here and now.

Rabbi Yaakov Galinsky used to say that even in our own time, sometimes "Moses is late." Torah is not always the fastest, most immediately accessible option. Eternal, ancient, and profound values do not always move at the pace of the daily highway. Moses is not always the wittiest or most up-to-date voice; he offers no glittering magic solutions. And unlike the Golden Calf, he does not present something tangible and shiny, but demands that the people embark on a long spiritual process.

To this day, Rabbi Galinsky (d. 2014) explained, the Jewish people have absorbed criticism for not "keeping up with the times," for failing to adapt quickly to whatever society demands at that moment. And each of us, on a personal level, can read this portion and ask: Where in our own lives might impatience lead us to choose a Golden Calf instead of the Ten Commandments — a temporary and false solution instead of the long and faithful path?

Sivan Rahav Meir is a primetime news anchor with weekly broadcasts on television and radio. Her "Daily Thought" has a huge following on social media, with hundreds of thousands of followers, translated into 17 languages. She has published several books in English and was recognized by Globes newspaper as Israel's most popular female media figure and by the Jerusalem Post as one of the 50 most influential Jews worldwide. She lives in Jerusalem with her husband Yedidya and their five children.

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Previously:
• 02/23/26
• 02/02/26
• 01/26/26
• 01/05/26
• 12/08/25
• 11/24/25
• 11/17/25