One Floor Up in Jerusalem
Yoel Solomon Street is one that many of us who spent time “studying” in Jerusalem will know well—a street we walked up and down countless times. Some even spent a lot of time “Underground” there in years gone by. For many of us, it’s synonymous with fun, freedom, and a social Jerusalem we’ll never forget.
A couple of years ago, a close friend of mine, Gavin, and I were introduced to a different side of the street—just one floor up. It was a place I had no idea existed, addressing a huge issue I simply didn’t know (or want to know) existed in the city I love more than any other.
It’s fitting that on this Jerusalem Day, while friends of mine in my old hometown of London were holding an evening for this truly amazing modern-day miracle—Hut HaMeshulash—I’m reflecting on what I saw.
I was simply unaware that so many children are at risk in Jerusalem and across Israel. It’s painful to admit, but it’s a frightening side of society we often don’t want to acknowledge. Children, forced by violence or abuse to run away from home, end up living on the streets. Thousands of them from across the various strands of the city, many from religious homes.
Hut HaMeshulash and other charities work tirelessly to provide hostels and drop-in centers for these kids. It was one such drop-in center that, two years ago, opened my eyes to this hidden but incredibly beautiful world—taking place quite literally one floor above the heartbeat of a bustling tourist center.
When you hear “drop-in center,” what comes to mind? I’ll tell you what I expected as I climbed the narrow stairs: squalor, drugs, sadness, smell, emptiness. I was genuinely scared of what I’d find.
But the door opened into one of the warmest, most well-cared-for places I’ve ever been—a place with a real heart. It blew my mind. Filled with 40–60 kids every day, the space was divided into a living room, music room, kitchen, rest zone, and games room. I left there spellbound. The kids we met, spoke to, and saw were being looked after with genuine kindness and respect. It truly felt like a home.
To think that thousands of kids in Jerusalem rely on drop-in centers during the day (Hut HaMeshulash is open from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m.) and hostels—or the streets—by night is heartbreaking. It’s a reality in Israel, as it is around the world. The fact that beautiful people—organizations like Hut HaMeshulash, working with local authorities—are there for them is at least some comfort.
Many of my friends in London celebrated Jerusalem Day last night by learning about this side of Jerusalem that so few know. I was on the other side of the city, spending the day at one of Jerusalem’s hospitals, also being treated by people who were kind and respectful.
Although most of us think of the scenes from 1967 when we celebrate Yom Yerushalayim, perhaps an equally fitting image is of today’s Jerusalem: united and free, modern and complex, challenging yet resourceful—a city where good people are working hard to care for its most vulnerable, in the most modest and caring ways.
The prophet Zechariah prophesied about a future Jerusalem:
“Thus says the LORD: I am returned unto Zion and will dwell in the midst of Jerusalem: and Jerusalem shall be called the city of truth, and the mountain of the LORD of hosts, the holy city. Old men and women shall dwell in the streets of Jerusalem, and the streets will be full of boys and girls playing.”
I’m not sure we’re fully there yet, with boys and girls playing freely in the streets—but we are trying. We’re trying to provide solutions for those whose lives are at significant risk. In the music room at the drop-in center, one of the kids asked me what I’d like to hear. I asked him to play Dire Straits. It may not have been (in fact I’m sure it wasn’t) what the great Prophet had in mind, but thousands of years later, it was, in its own way, a hint at the miracle Jerusalem is.
That we are privileged to live in an age where we can visit, pray, and live in Jerusalem is a miracle we should acknowledge. But it’s also a huge responsibility—a responsibility from God to guard and protect the city, not just from terror and foreign enemies, but also from the challenges within society. These are the challenges that can tear us apart and cause us to lose this city.
Organizations like Hut HaMeshulash are helping to meet that responsibility. For that, they have my deepest respect. I hope they continue to be nurtured and supported by people everywhere—whether here in Israel or in places like London.
We are living in truly miraculous times, and I pray that they lead us to a place where Hut HaMeshulash can one day retire, safe in the knowledge that there is no longer a need for what they do. Until then, I hope that people continue to support these efforts.
