My Divine Kiss by an Angel in the Berkshires

Have you ever gone mini-golfing and received a kiss from a perfect stranger for being one of God’s chosen people? Not your everyday occurrence, right? Especially in an era of spiking antisemitism and anti-Israel hostility. Yet, it happened to me recently and restored my faith —at least for the moment—in my fellow Americans and their solidarity with us Jews.

Let me explain.

In the post-October 7 era, Jews have been experiencing a range of conflicting emotions and reactions: pride, fear, anger, confusion and uncertainty, to name a few. Israel’s ongoing war against Hamas, the humanitarian crisis in Gaza and the cruel treatment of innocent Israeli hostages is a pervasive concern and impacts the Jewish community in myriad ways. Since they became available, I have religiously worn the dog tag showing solidarity with the Israeli hostages.

I continue to wear my dog tag even as I wonder whether this small daily act matters. And I have recently added an old Jewish star that had been lying around for years that I have to confess did not interest me too much in the past. But things changed on October 7, and the Jewish star is now hanging conspicuously around my neck.

I took both items off recently during my trip to Central Europe but afterwards regretted that decision. There was no need to fear antisemitism and even anti-Zionism in Hungary or the Czech Republic. But I didn’t realize that ahead of time.

So back to the Berkshires, a lovely resort region in western Massachusetts. My husband and I travelled to the quaint town of Lenox last week to enjoy the exquisite end-of-season rendition of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony in the gorgeous setting of Tanglewood, the summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. In the midst of the onslaught of devastating news both international and domestic, it was a pleasure to bask in the utopian vision of unity written by the world’s great master composer. This classic and universalistic musical experience was followed the next night by an uplifting performance of a local Klezmer band in a Pittsfield synagogue.  Ironically, I learned of that performance due to a chance encounter with a Jewish woman at Tanglewood who I only approached because she also wore a hostage pendant. Had I not been wearing my “Jewish jewelry,” our meeting would never have happened.

On the third and final day of our short getaway, we decided to play miniature golf at the only available venue in the small rural town of Lanesborough, five miles north of Pittsfield.

As always, it’s one of life’s simple pleasures to play mini golf—a genuine throwback to the 1950s, on a course containing odd decor and a healthy mix of young and old players just having fun. At the conclusion of our game, we decided to take a photo.  A gentleman who was playing right behind us overheard and offered his assistance.

This man and his female partner were eager to engage us in friendly conversation.  He was clearly a military veteran—a leg amputee wearing a marine corps baseball hat. I was wearing my late father’s UMass hat to which his partner shared that she too was a proud graduate of the school. It was the next part of our conversation that got interesting. No doubt taking note of my Jewish star (and maybe the dog tag), he asked me if by any chance I was Jewish. I immediately clutched my pendants and replied that yes indeed this was the case, at which point I was bracing for a provocative Israel -related comment.

That’s not at all what happened, however. He proceeded to tell me how much he appreciated the Jewish people and that he wanted to wear an outward symbol to show his support, but had been unsuccessful in acquiring what he described as a blue ribbon. He had even gone to the local synagogue to find a blue ribbon, but to no avail. I then explained that following October 7, supporters of Israel first wore blue ribbons which had subsequently led to yellow ribbons, and that in addition there is a “Stand Up to Jewish Hate” blue square lapel pin created by the Kraft Foundation to Combat Antisemitism that he might have seen. Bottom line, I offered to help him get what he needed and have now accumulated some pins that I plan to send him.

He was overjoyed to hear this and proceeded to give me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek! He also told me that he loved me because the Jews are God’s chosen people and he believes in God. I was speechless and replied something like “that’s great. I believe in God too.” Never mind getting into any philosophical discussion about the somewhat problematic concept of chosenness that most Jews I know would typically engage in. It was a pure declaration of faith and love and in these troubled times for the Jewish people, I was more than happy to receive his kind sentiments.

So what was the ultimate irony? My newfound friend is Angel. Yes, that’s actually his name. How fitting, no? In just two days I went from hearing the angelic music of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” proclaiming the utopian vision of a brotherhood of man, to being kissed by a real Angel, a Vietnam war vet who loves me because I’m a part of God’s chosen people.

I’ll be sending a packet of Jewish jewelry to Angel this week and I’m certain he will wear it.  I’m thrilled because we need all the friends we can get these days, and for a moment my own faith in the goodness of my fellow Americans was reaffirmed in the tiny village of Lanesborough, Massachusetts.