"To the President's Residence," I said to the taxi driver.

"Are you going to watch the ceremony for the awards for volunteers?" he asked. "I heard this rabbi on the radio. He helps the people from Gush Katif. What a terrific man."
 
"I'm from Gush Katif," I gushed, "and that's whom I'm going to see honored today. His name is Rabbi Yosef Tzvi Rimon and he, rather than the Israeli government, helped our people find jobs and start businesses after our
Rabbi Rimon appeared at our hotel right after our expulsion.
expulsion. And he's still doing it, helping us start our life anew."
"Where do you live?"

"In a refugee camp."

"What, you still don't have homes?"

"No. No one has built a permanent home. We still live in prefabs. And so many of our people are out of work."

"They threw you out for nothing!"

We drove on to the President's Residence. I remained pensive thinking of my special relationship with this special man, Rabbi Yosef Tzvi Rimon.

Not yet forty years old, Rabbi Rimon appeared at our hotel right after our expulsion. He saw the depression, the trauma, the terrible sense of loss and betrayal. Proud farmers who had employed dozens of workers were now left bereft. Businesses had lost everything. In twenty-four hours, thirty years of work had disappeared.

Rabbi Rimon knew that jobs were a top priority for people. He started JobKatif. He sent out word on the Internet that our people needed employment. He offered incentives. He started retraining programs. He brought professionals to help our people write CVs. He brought in employment counselors to help our people assess their skills and business knowledge, and how to write a business plan. He raised money to start new businesses.

Rabbi Rimon would call me to ask if people were good business risks. As the founder of Operation Dignity, I too would give financial incentives to those who needed that extra help. One such person asking for start-up money had owned and operated a successful store in N'vei Dekalim. I gave the rabbi my personal recommendation.

The rabbi, still unsure, asked again.

"Rabbi Rimon, let me tell you about this person's volunteer work in Gush Katif. Then make your decision."

Rather startled, the rabbi asked, "What was it?"

"He purified the dead for burial." We call it chessedshel emet, "true charity".

The rabbi said not a word. The loan went through.

When we began the Orange Gallery, there was no physical gallery; it was just a group of our artists selling their wares in private homes, synagogues, community centers and wherever a venue could be found. The government's people expressed concern, interest and appreciation, but offered no help.

After a fundraiser in Boston, Rabbi Rimon called me from the airport. "Go out and buy a prefab for the Orange
The government's people expressed concern, interest and appreciation, but offered no help.
Gallery!" he shouted with glee. "I have the money for you!"

The next day, we went out and ordered the structure. A few weeks later, the Orange Gallery had a home.
 
On July 2, twelve people received the President's Award for Volunteerism. Rabbi Yosef Tzvi Rimon went up to the dais and received his award. The staff of JobKatif and some very grateful people of Gush Katif stood up and applauded enthusiastically. The rabbi told us afterward that he had presented President Shimon Peres with his latest book, The Halacha of Shmittah ("The Laws of the Sabbatical Year").

Rabbi Rimon is Chief Rabbi of Alon Shvut, a community in Gush Etzion in Judea. He is married and has six daughters. When I asked him where he had learned about business, he modestly answered, "In the Talmud."