There are stories that capture the heart of Rabbi Yitzchak Dovid Grossman in a way that words alone never could.
This is one of them.
During the Second Lebanon War in 2006, 700 Israeli paratroopers found themselves waiting at a military base near Petach Tikva. They had expected to stay for a day or two before entering Lebanon. Instead, uncertainty and delays kept them there for ten days.
Ten days without proper showers, comfortable beds, or clean clothes.
Then a father called Rabbi Grossman.
He had visited his son at the base and was horrified by what he found. He knew someone had to do something for these soldiers.
Rabbi Grossman's response was immediate.
"Bring them all here!"
And so, 700 paratroopers arrived at Migdal Ohr.
What happened next was Rabbi Grossman at his very best. He brought together everything he could to give these young men the welcome they deserved. There was a huge barbecue, a live Chassidic band, time in the swimming pool, hot showers, and clean beds.
For a little while, these soldiers could stop worrying about the war ahead and simply feel at home.
But Rabbi Grossman wasn't finished.
Before the soldiers left for Lebanon, he gave each one a coin to donate to tzedakah when he returned home safely.
And then he did something they couldn't see.
He prayed.
Every morning before dawn, Rabbi Grossman rose to pray for the soldiers. He lit candles, visited the graves of tzaddikim, and begged Hashem for one thing: that every single soldier would return home alive.
He called to check on them. He worried about them. And he refused to stop praying for them.
Then, ten days later, the phone rang.
The soldiers were coming home.
Every single one of them had survived. Not one was harmed in Lebanon.
And they were coming back to Migdal Ohr to thank Rabbi Grossman.
It was 2:30 in the morning when they arrived. But for Rabbi Grossman, there was no such thing as a bad time to celebrate a miracle. He called the kitchen staff, brought in a band, and welcomed his soldiers home with all the joy and love they deserved.
During the celebration, one young soldier approached him.
"Rabbi," he said, "I have to tell you what happened."
His unit had entered a village in Lebanon and was preparing to spend the night when a missile was fired toward them. Two horses stood just a few meters away. The explosion struck nearby, and the horses absorbed much of its force. The soldiers survived.
The young man looked at Rabbi Grossman and said something remarkable:
"I'm not a religious person. But someone was watching over us. You blessed us before we left. Every day you called to ask how we were doing. We all came home safely."
Rabbi Grossman answered with the honesty of a man who had carried these soldiers in his heart every moment they were away.
"From the day you left, I didn't have a moment of peace. Every morning before dawn I woke to pray. I lit candles. I visited the graves of tzaddikim. I begged God for one thing only, that I would merit seeing every one of you return home alive.
"And thank God, you did."
This is the heart of Rabbi Grossman.
To him, these soldiers weren't strangers. They were brothers. Their safety was his responsibility. Their pain was his pain. Their return home was his greatest wish.
He didn't ask whether they were religious. He didn't ask where they came from or what kind of background they had. He saw young men who had put their lives on the line for Am Yisrael, and he did everything in his power to care for them.
That same love is what built Migdal Ohr. It is the love that welcomes children who need a home, gives young people someone to believe in them, and reminds every child that they matter.
And it is the love our nation needs now more than ever.
There is documentary footage of this extraordinary story, including Rabbi Grossman welcoming the soldiers home. Watching it, you can see the hugs, the kisses, the joy, and the deep bond between the Rav and these young men.
Watch the incredible footage here.
As we reflect on the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash and the divisions that continue to separate us, this story reminds us of what it takes to rebuild.
It starts with one person refusing to look away. One person willing to open his doors, lose sleep, offer comfort, and pray with all his heart for someone else's safe return.
Rabbi Grossman showed those 700 soldiers what it means to be a brother.
And every day at Migdal Ohr, that legacy continues through the children and young people who learn to care for one another and give that same love to the world around them.
May we each find ways to follow his example, to open our hearts, to look after our brothers and sisters, and to do whatever we can to bring our people closer together.
