The other day, my car stopped working. I panicked, thinking, “Is this going to be an easy fix? Will it be expensive? How am I going to get to my office tomorrow?”
My husband Daniel wasn’t as anxious as I was. Instead, he contacted Chaverim, a local volunteer group in the Jewish community that shows up if you’re having car troubles or any other issues. Within an hour, a volunteer came to our home, worked in the dark and got my car back up and running again. He wouldn’t accept payment, and only encouraged us to donate to the organization – which we gladly did.
This was not an unusual situation; these kinds of miraculous things happen all the time when you live in a Jewish community.
Take, for instance, the morning that I couldn’t find my car keys. I’d searched my house for over an hour but found nothing. My daughter’s teachers were texting me and asking me where she was since I was very late for school drop-off. I also had to get to work. My face turned red, and tears formed in my eyes as I typed into a local WhatsApp group, “Can someone please help me take my daughter to school right now?”
Just a few minutes later, a lovely single mom in our community, who I knew was incredibly busy with her own children, picked up me and my daughter, took her to school and then dropped me back at home, reassuring me in a calming tone that everything would be OK. And then, after saying the Rabbi Meir Baal Haness prayer for lost objects like she recommended, I found my keys under the dog bowl.
There was also the horrible day that we got robbed and Daniel fought off the robber. We were shaken up after a thief stole $25,000 worth of work equipment from us and showed up back at our home, where Daniel chased him away. But not only that — we called the police, and after waiting for over an hour, they still hadn’t arrived. I got in touch with Magen Am USA, a security nonprofit in the Jewish community, and the leader of it, Rabbi Yossi Eilfort, promptly came to our house and contacted the local authorities himself. They arrived within minutes, and we were able to get a police report written up.
There are countless examples of the ways in which our community has showed up for us. That’s the beauty of living in a Jewish community.
When Daniel and I moved from New York to Los Angeles in 2012, we weren’t yet observant — heck, I wasn’t even Jewish yet — and we didn’t know many people here. We didn’t join the Jewish community right away, instead going to comedy shows and focusing on Daniel’s stand-up career. It felt like we were just floating around L.A., aimless, without any support. We both quickly became disheartened by it and wanted to leave.
But once we met people in the Jewish community, found synagogues we liked and went to friends’ homes for Shabbat dinner, we began to feel like part of one big family. I really felt it when so many people contributed to making our wedding special, from our friend who offered to bartend for free to another who picked up tablecloths the day of because we miscalculated the number we needed. When we had kids, friends and strangers alike signed up for our Meal Train and fed us every night for a month straight. After the robbery, when I got sick with strep, a bunch of women showed up at my house with homemade food for Shabbat.
Being part of the community, we’ve had the chance to give back as well. We sign up for Meal Trains whenever we can. We host events and invite people over for Shabbat. We donate to local organizations, and we do our best to lend a hand when someone is in need.
Being part of the community, we’ve had the chance to give back as well. We sign up for Meal Trains whenever we can. We host events and invite people over for Shabbat. We donate to local organizations, and we do our best to lend a hand when someone is in need.
The bottom line? I am so grateful to be part of a Jewish community that is filled with kindness, fueled by love and beautiful in every single way.
Kylie Ora Lobell is the Community Editor of the Jewish Journal. You can find Kylie on X @KylieOraLobell or Instagram @KylieOraWriter.
