The holiday season always brings to mind the miracles surrounding us, even in the everyday things we might take for granted. Think about it: the electricity that powers our homes, the roads and cars that connect us to the world, the wonder of flight that lets us soar across continents, and the films and the internet that bring stories and people into our lives. And then there’s love—the most profound miracle of all—grounding us in peace and connection, whether at home or across the globe.

Reflecting on these modern miracles, I am reminded that they did not happen overnight. Behind every innovation were struggles, doubts, and an unwavering belief in the impossible. Perhaps that is why the miracles in my life feel even more profound—they came with challenges, making them all the more meaningful.

My Recent Miracles

Miracle 1: Finding a Home in Jerusalem

Israel has always felt like a second home to me, where my roots are intertwined with my ancestors’ rich history and faith. Over the years, my trips to Israel have transformed into spiritual journeys shaped by my studies at Shiviti and Simhat Shlomo—two Jewish institutions.

On my last trip in April, I searched for a place to live. This task proved challenging, especially with my limited budget and Jerusalem’s tricky rental market. There were moments of doubt when I wondered if I’d ever find a place that felt right. Then, I discovered a small, affordable apartment—not luxurious, but in a neighbourhood I love.

I vividly remember stepping into that apartment for the first time. The cool air carried a faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. The space was modest yet filled with natural light, and as I stood in the empty rooms, a quiet sense of peace enveloped me, almost as if the city were welcoming me home. The apartment is tranquil, just a short walk from the lively Emek Refaim Street, with its bustling shops, cafes, and the cinemas I enjoy.

Returning to Israel right after the Jewish Fall Holidays, I was determined to make this place my own. Over the next five weeks, I poured my heart into transforming that small apartment into a home. Each step—arranging furniture and hanging mezuzot on the doorways—deepened my connection to this land.

Miracle 2: Rediscovering the Streets of Jerusalem

Decades ago, as a student at Hebrew University, I wandered the streets of Jerusalem on foot. Back then, the city had a quieter, more intimate feel, and its narrow lanes seemed to whisper secrets from the past.

During my recent visits, I was struck by Jerusalem’s transformation. The quiet, small city I once knew has become a lively, modern metropolis. Buses, trains, and highways now integrate seamlessly into its historic surroundings, creating a vibrant atmosphere filled with traffic, construction, and the lively chatter of a diverse crowd.

Before the Six-Day War in 1967, Jews could not access the Western Wall or the Old City. Today, these sacred sites are open to everyone, and the city has expanded in ways I never imagined. Yaffo Street, once a simple route to the Old City, now features a sleek tram—a surreal contrast of modern elegance against ancient stones. Ben Yehuda Street, where I used to stroll as a student, has transformed into a bustling pedestrian mall filled with cafes, shops, and the constant buzz of city life.

I was particularly fascinated by Kikar Hamusika, a lovely square near Ben Yehuda that I stumbled upon for the first time. Drawn by the enchanting music of a violinist, I found myself surrounded by people chatting and laughing at nearby tables. In that moment, I felt the vibrant energy of the city—deeply connected to its history yet incredibly alive in the present.

Miracle 3: Reconnecting with Old Friends

The day after I arrived in Jerusalem, my brother-in-law, Shragai, called to tell me about a gathering at Barbara Friedman’s apartment. Barbara, a fellow Montrealer, had invited us to catch up, making it the perfect way to reintegrate into the city’s social scene.

As I entered her apartment, the scent of freshly baked challah enveloped me, along with the warmth of familiar faces and old friendships. One friend had even brought a guitar, and before long, we found ourselves singing together, including a delightful children’s song about Noah’s Ark. It was a sweet moment, especially since it was the Friday before Shabbat, a time for reflecting on the stories of our ancestors and the lessons they teach.

Surrounded by music and laughter, our lasting connections felt even more meaningful despite the years and distance that kept us apart. It was a beautiful reminder that some bonds, like tree roots, grow stronger over time, keeping us tied to the people and places we hold dear.

Miracle 4: Immersing in the European Cantors Convention in Budapest

On November 1st, I travelled from Israel to Hungary to attend the European Cantors Convention at the Rumbach Street Synagogue in Budapest. This place is special to me as it’s where my parents married during World War II. Being in that space, filled with personal and communal history, was incredibly moving.

The synagogue itself was a marvel—its walls steeped in history, yet echoing with the voices of the present. To capture the essence of the convention, I hired a local cameraman to document the event. It was an opportunity to listen to incredible cantors like Benny Meisels, Deborah Katcko-Grey, and Leah Frey Rabiner and reconnect with my family’s roots. With my cousins, I explored Budapest and uncovered our shared history, making this trip about more than just music—it was a journey into my family’s past.

Standing in the synagogue where my parents once stood, under the same ceiling that had witnessed so much joy and sorrow, I felt a deep connection to them and the generations before them. These interviews and experiences are the foundation of a documentary I’m working on about the convention. The event was filled with meaningful discussions and beautiful music; I can’t wait to share that with others.

Miracle 5: Rediscovering Our Family Heritage in Hungary

I had the opportunity to travel with Rachel, Tehila, her daughter, and Effy Fadida from Israel to the ancestral lands of our Hungarian Jewish forefathers. During our visit, we explored places like Tokay, Szabolcs, Kereztur, and Debrecen, accompanied by locals who helped us understand our family’s deep connections to these locations.

In Kereztur, we paid our respects at the resting place of Reb Shiele, a revered Hassidic Rebbe, and enjoyed kosher meals that felt like a link to our ancestors. The air was filled with the aroma of traditional Hungarian dishes, and as we gathered, the conversation flowed easily, full of stories of the past and hopes for the future. It was a meaningful experience to be in these places that still hold the echoes of our heritage, connecting us to a legacy of faith and community.

Our time in Tokay and Debrecen was remarkable. Visiting the Rebbe’s resting place at night felt almost dreamlike—a moment of quiet reflection after a day of exploring our roots. The stillness of the night, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant sound of a river, created an atmosphere of calm and peace. In Debrecen, we connected with relatives who survived the horrors of the Holocaust, their resilience serving as a strong reminder of the strength of our people. Our experience was even documented in the Hungarian Jewish Debrecen Community Bulletin, where I translated our visit into English.

Miracle 6: The Resilience of My Christmas Cactus

When I returned to Montreal, I was greeted by a small but significant miracle—my Christmas cactus was in full bloom. It had been cared for by a talented local plant expert while I was away, and seeing those bright blossoms felt like a symbol of hope and resilience. The vibrant pink flowers, standing against the gray of winter, were a reminder that life persists, even in the harshest conditions.

In a world that often feels dark, small lights—whether a blooming plant, a cherished friendship, or a connection to our heritage—remind us of the miracles surrounding us. Like the Maccabees, who overcame great odds, we can find strength and light in the most unexpected places.

As we move through this holiday season, may our homes be filled with peace, joy, and the warmth of these everyday miracles.

Am Yisrael chai—The People of Israel are alive! Am Yisrael thrives! And when Am Yisrael thrives, the world thrives!

Wishing you all a happy and meaningful holiday season.

With warmth,

Abigail