I watched a video this week that I haven't been able to stop thinking about.
It tells the story of the Katz family following the tragic loss of their young daughter, Charlotte. The driver involved in the accident wasn't a stranger—it was one of the father's closest friends. In the midst of unimaginable grief, Charlotte's father made a choice few people could comprehend. Rather than allowing anger to consume him, he embraced his friend, forgave him, and helped him carry the unbearable weight of what had happened.
Then the family did something even more remarkable. They turned their tragedy into a movement called Shalom for Charlotte, encouraging people around the world to forgive someone, let go of an old grudge, or make peace with another person. Such a simple idea, yet so profound.
If you have a few minutes, I highly recommend watching the film and story here (I've also included it below). You can also learn about the Shalom for Charlotte initiative and take the pledge here: https://shalomforcharlotte.com/
When I finished watching, I found myself asking:
How does someone find the strength to do that? Inspiring, no doubt. But how does an ordinary person respond that way?
Here are some thoughts on that...
The film was released Wednesday night, just as Tisha B'Av, the Ninth of Av—the Jewish people's national day of mourning—began.
Yesterday we observed Tisha B'Av. We remembered the destruction of both Holy Temples in Jerusalem. We also remembered many other tragedies that became connected with this day throughout Jewish history, including the Crusades, the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492, and the outbreak of World War I, which ultimately paved the way for World War II and the Holocaust.
Most people know Tisha B'Av as a day of mourning.
What is far less known is that just six days later comes the 15th of Av. The Talmud makes a remarkable statement:
"There were no greater festivals for Israel than the Fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement)." (Taanis 26b)
The Talmud lists several reasons for this celebration: ancient divisions between the tribes came to an end, the tribe of Benjamin was welcomed back into the Jewish people, roadblocks preventing Jews from making pilgrimage to Jerusalem were removed, and other events that brought renewed unity and hope.
Yet you still have to ask:
Why does the Talmud describe this as the happiest day of the year—even more than Passover, celebrating the Exodus from Egypt, or Purim, celebrating the salvation of the Jewish people?
The Rebbe offers a beautiful insight.
The fifteenth day of every Jewish month is the full moon. Just as the moon reaches its fullest point, the fifteenth represents the fullest expression of that month's spiritual theme.
Passover falls on the fifteenth of the month of Nissan because it celebrates the complete redemption from Egypt.
Sukkot begins on the fifteenth of the month of Tishrei because it celebrates the complete joy that follows Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year) and Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement).
So what is the fullest expression of the month of Av—a month identified with loss and destruction?
Our Sages teach something astonishing. On the very day the Holy Temple was destroyed, Moshiach (the Messiah) was born (Jerusalem Talmud, Berachot 2:4; Eichah Rabbah 1:51).
In other words, at the very moment the destruction began, G-d had already begun the redemption.
From our perspective, all we could see was darkness. From G-d's perspective, a new future had already begun.
Perhaps that is why the 15th of Av is seen as the high point of the month and described as one of the happiest days. It reminds us that even in moments we cannot begin to understand, G-d may already be bringing about something far greater than we can see.
This may seem like a perspective reserved for G-d alone—to see redemption where everyone else sees only destruction. Yet from time to time, G-d gives people a glimpse of that perspective.
Perhaps that is what Charlotte's father was able to do.
He didn't deny the tragedy. He didn't minimize the pain. He chose to live from a perspective larger than the tragedy itself. He believed that heartbreak would not have the final word. Instead of allowing suffering to create more suffering, he responded with forgiveness, healing, and hope.
This Shabbos is known as Shabbat Nachamu, the "Shabbos of Comfort," named after the opening words of this week's prophetic reading:
"Comfort, comfort My people," says your G-d. (Isaiah 40:1)
Why the double expression, "Comfort, comfort"?
Perhaps because after experiencing such deep pain, we need a deeper comfort. We need to know not only that G-d is with us in our pain, but that He is already preparing what comes next. The comfort is not only that suffering will one day end—it is that redemption has already begun, even if we cannot yet see it.
Faith doesn't always answer our questions. But it does remind us that G-d's story is bigger than the chapter we are living through. Even when we cannot yet see where life is heading, He has already begun writing the next chapter. Sometimes, He even gives us the strength to live with that perspective today.
As we enter Shabbat Nachamu and approach the 15th of Av, may we be blessed to find hope even in difficult moments, experience G-d's comfort, and merit to witness the ultimate redemption with the coming of Moshiach (the Messiah) and the rebuilding of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, speedily in our days.
Wishing you and your family a peaceful, meaningful, and uplifting Shabbos.
Shabbat Shalom/Good Shabbos,
Rabbi Yitzi Hein
Chabad of Pittsford