A view of Phewa Lake in Pokhara, Nepal from our guesthouse

Seven months after we were married, we officially hosted our first Shabbos guest as a married couple!

Most couples start building a home when they first get married.  The can start inviting Shabbos guests over as soon as the dining room table and chairs move in.  But for Ben and I, inviting over Shabbos guests is more difficult.  If we’re in an area with lots of Jews, there’s usually a Chabad House and we’ll eat there.  And if there’s no Chabad House, it is very rare to find other Jews wandering around.  We both love hosting guests, just like our forefather Avraham did, but often it’s just not possible for us.

So one day before Shabbos, Ben was walking down the main street of Pokhara,  Nepal, and he met a Jewish man, Tomer, who, with his beard and cap, looked pretty religious.  It’s normal to see lots of Israelis in  Nepal, but in Pokhara, the Chabad House wasn’t opening until the next week, so not many Israelis were about.

Ben invited him over for Shabbat dinner, but he already had plans.  When he came back to the guesthouse and told me about it, I was so excited that we might have a Shabbos guest.  After davening the next morning, I sent Ben out to look for Tomer while I made salads.  I was so excited when Ben and Tomer returned!

The day before, I had boiled eggs and potatoes and steamed peas, so I made a delicious potato salad.  We also had extra boiled eggs and enormous salads full of fresh vegetables.  Although in Judaism it’s preferable not to bring food into a bathroom, as we travel I find it is easiest to wash and check vegetables if we have a bathroom attached to our room.  It’s also helpful to have an attached bathroom because on Shabbat we can leave the light on in the bathroom and then just close the door when it’s time to go to sleep.

We all really enjoyed the meal and we sat on the porch of our lovely little guesthouse as we ate.  We had a perfect view of fields full of grazing water buffalo, the famous Phewa Lake, and the foothills of the Himalayas.  It was an ideal setting where we could sit for hours and talk about our travels and tell d’var Torahs about the weekly Torah portion.

But the best part of hosting our first Shabbos guest on the go in Nepal was making a new friend!

A Prayer for Israeli Soldiers

“No one brought me chocolates, flowers, or cake,” said our host. “Most likely none of you will send a thank you card, but I’d like you to show some appreciation for this meal.”

I looked around the table. We were an interesting group of mismatched people with one thing in common: none of us had a place to eat our Friday night dinner. We had all ended up in the same house where the food and singing were good. But what now?

“Well,” continued our host, “What I request from you is that each one around this table should take on one small mitzvah, nothing big. Don’t say you will start keeping kosher or Shabbat , or that you will put on tefillin every day. Because in three days time you’ll quit. Take something small, a little tiny mitzvah that you will start doing right way, nothing big or complicated. A mitzvah that is between you and G-d.”

While our host was explaining what a mitzvah was, I got lost in my thoughts. A few hours ago I was standing at the kotel. It was the second time in my life that I could pray there and experience the love, warmth, and joy that permeates the place on a Friday night.  An hour-long service of singing and dancing fed me spiritually. I then turned to figuring out how to feed myself physically.  I found my way to Jeff Seidel who stands at the kotel every Friday night. Jeff acts as a shadchan between people with nowhere to go, and individuals looking for a Shabbat guest. I was one of six guests that were teamed up with our current host. I came from a religious family and for me a Shabbat dinner was the norm, but for some of the guys in the group it was their first time.

Dessert was brought, conversation continued, and I was still lost in thought. I was having difficulty coming up with a small mitzvah. I was not the only one. At the far end of the table from where I sat, one of the guests was discussing mitzvah ideas with our host. I caught a few words about saying, ‘a chapter of tehillim every day for the Israeli soldiers.’

I did not personally know a single Israeli soldier, though the idea sounded right to me. It has now been almost ten years where a day has not gone by without me saying  a chapter of tehillim for our brothers and sisters who risk their lives protecting us.  I still don’t personally know any current Israeli soldier, only those who have been.

I don’t remember my host’s name and we would probably not recognize each other if we crossed paths. He may never know because I overheard his conversation at the other end of the table. I have now been saying tehillim for ten years.

This is the first time I’m telling this story in writing. I’ve shared it dozens of times at Friday night Chabad house meals around the world. I can’t say for sure, though I am confident, that of the thousands of Israeli travelers who have heard me tell the story, at least one has been inspired to say some tehillim.

Yom Hazikaron remembers the more than 22,000 soldiers killed in the line of duty and the nearly 4,000 civilian terror victims. Let’s remember them and what they have given their lives for. Let us also pray for living soldiers so that please G-d as time passes, there will be less of the dead to remember.