A Surprise Blessing in the Grocery Store

Yesterday, I was stopped in the grocery store. I recognize that living in Memphis, Tennessee, with a Jewish population of roughly 8500, I can stick out like a sore thumb. I was wearing my Kippah, as I do every day, a sign to those around me – I am a Jew. I had stopped at Kroger to pick up a couple of items for the dinner I was making for my family. And I was stopped, completely caught off guard, totally out of nowhere.

An older lady looked me in the eyes and said, “I pray for Israel every day.”

We live in a society where anti-Israel sentiments are seen as antisemitic. There is little distinction between the two. If you’re Jewish, people automatically believe you must be a Zionist. And if I’m anti-Zionist, I’m anti-you.

And yet, this comment was an opposite sentiment. Because I am Jewish, I must be a Zionist. And because I love Israel, you must also love Israel. And she was right. I am a fervent Zionist. And I am a religiously observant Jew. She saw the Kippah and made an assumption.

“I pray for Israel every day.” What powerful words. My reply was, “So do I.” She went on to tell me about her trip to Israel 10 years ago with her now-deceased husband and the impact that their trip had on her faith and her belief that Israel is and should always be the homeland of the Jewish people.

We talked about my family who live in Israel and my oldest son who spent the last two years studying in Israel and will be returning God willing on September 1.

This wasn’t the first time I have been stopped in Memphis with a comment like this.

In the days immediately after October 7^th, I was stopped while walking to my car in the parking lot at Costco. I was parked next to a white pickup truck. A man next to the truck kept staring me down. He looked at my face, my head, and then in the eyes again. He did this two or three times. My honest reaction was to feel uneasy, even scared. I have been the subject of antisemitic comments before, everywhere that we have lived, in Memphis, in Cleveland, and Las Vegas.

Perhaps sensing my unease, he said four words to me. “I don’t hate you.”

I didn’t understand how powerful those words could be. Sure, I would have preferred he say, “I love you,” as we should love all of our neighbors as we love ourselves, but not being hated felt incredibly strong. I looked at him as I held back the tears and responded. “I don’t hate you either,” I said. And that was enough. It has stuck with me each day since.

As we are all witness to the rise in antisemitism in the United States and across the world, it is essential that we hear more comments like the two I have heard. They are two among many.

I have written before about the Independent Heads of School community who have reached out to me over the months since October 7^th, whether to stand with our school, to check on our school families, or to check on me and my family. There are those who support us as Jews and as lovers of Israel.

As I wrapped up my conversation in Kroger, the kind lady shared with me the words of Breisheet (Genesis) 12:3, “I will bless those who bless you, and curse him that curses you…” She gave me a blessing at that moment, and in return, she should be blessed.