Move a Mountain

“Everyone stand in a circle and hold hands with the person next to you,” he ordered. On both my right and left, a sweaty hand closed around my own. I stood there in the quiet and the darkness, aware of nothing but the two young hands loosely gripping mine. “Listen,” the voice whispered. “Listen to yourselves. Listen to your souls. It’s midnight now — a time of great potential. Every one of us has been through many experiences. We’ve had ups and downs, successes and failures. We’ve been insulted and offended, challenged and hurt, and we’ve been carrying all that baggage with us. Now we’re here, alone with our Father in Heaven, Who is with us in Romania just as in Eretz Yisrael. Each one of you can call out to him however you want — Abba, Tatty, or even Daddy. And after every ten times that we call out, we’ll raise our voices together and hold hands even more tightly.”

For some reason, I felt a chill run up my spine. My hands shook as beseeching cries rang out in the darkness. And then the tears came.

More than Cliffs

if all began when I heard about a special group of bochurim from a yeshivah called Ka Echsof in Beitar Illit who would be participating in a “wilderness therapy” tour for four days, alone in the mountains, with only a map, flashlight, a single rucksack, a sleeping bag, and a tarp. From Israel, it sounded somehow like a dream vacation.

Ka Echsof is one of several new yeshivos that have sprung up in Israel in answer to a very particular demographic need ; it’s a place for high-school age chassidishe bochurim who, due to family or personal issues, haven’t been able to find their place in the mainstream yeshivah system. It’s not a “drop-out” yeshivah, though: Here, shiurim are in Yiddish, the boys have kept their chassidish levush, no one’s cut off his peyos, and boys can move on beyond their baggage.