It's a Miracle!

Yated Ne'eman relates the following story.

JERUSALEM DIARY
By Moshe Schapiro
May 23, 2003
Here's a simple, straightforward, self-explanatory story that requires no introduction color commentary:

Yaakov Engelberg, 38 woke up on Sunday and went through his usual morning routine - shul, breakfast, change into his army uniform, grab his tote bag and run for the bus.

Yaakov is a career army officer, and his current assignment requires him to commute to an army base near Tel Aviv. The fastest way to get from his home in Yerushalayim's Pisgat Ze'ev neighborhood to the Central Bus Station is to take the 6 bus.

On the particular morning in question, the bus came right on time, and when Yaakov got on, he sat in his usual seat near the front. There were about two dozen other passengers in the bus at the time.

The bus did the rounds of the neighborhood and picked up more passengers, crossed the French Hill junction, and slowed on its approach to the next bus stop. It was exactly 5:45 a.m.

Yaakov bent down to get his Mishnayos out of the tote bag lying by his feet. At that exact moment, he saw a brilliant flash of light and his sense of hearing became dulled, as if someone had suddenly clogged his ears with cotton.

Alarmed, he raised his head and looked around.

Thick black smoke was spewing out of a gaping hole where the front of the bus had been only seconds before. Shards of glass, and other objects, were strewn everywhere.

Yaakov looked around at the passenger sitting next to him, and at the couple across the aisle. They were all dead. He was the only survivor from his section of the bus.

It finally hit him that he had just experienced a suicide bomb attack, and he immediately ran to the back of the bus and helped the wounded outside. Only when the paramedics arrived did he stumble outside and collapse on a patch of grass.

Minutes later, he was interviewed by a Channel 2 cameraman. He told over his story, which was heard by a large portion of the Israeli populace, since by then most people had heard of the attack, and they were all listening to see whether anyone they knew could have been on the bus.

Yaakov explained to the interviewer that he alone was saved from among the people who were sitting in his section of the bus because when he bent down for his Mishnayos, the seat in front of him shielded him from the brunt of the explosion, and thus saved his life.

The interviewer even dwelled on this interesting "coincidence" for a second or two. "Oh, you mean that the explosion went off at the exact same second when you reached down for your MISHNAYOS? What a miracle. And now, back to the Prime Minister's residence to hear the latest on Israel's expected response..."

And that was that.

Not only did an open miracle happen. Not only did the person on whose behalf the miracle was performed recognize the unlikelihood of such a thing happening by coincidence. Not only did the radio interviewer point out the fact that a miracle had happened. Not only was the miracle publicized to millions of people. Millions of people actually heard the report. And you know what? A good portion of those millions of people were probably very impressed for a second or two.

But did it make a difference? Are more people learning Mishnayos today then yesterday? Will more people keep Shabbos this week than last week?
It's hard to say.

But if at the very least WE, the Torah observers of this world, would sit up and pay attention to this miracle, and make a real change in our lives for the better, and devote ourselves with just a little more dedication to limud HaTorah and kiyum hamitzvos, then this open miracle will not have been in vain.