Erev Shabbat, I am standing by my kitchen sink mindlessly rinsing my "Grown in Gaza" salad greens. Muffled noises abound. The radio playing in the background is barely audible over the sound of the running water splashing into the sink bin. Thoughts of what else needs to be done before Shabbat float in and out of my brain as that erev Shabbat fatigue begins to enter my body.



Candle lighting is soon arriving, and with that comes my much desired rest and relaxation. I am grateful that, for the most part, things are in order. The food is mostly prepared, just the challot need to bake a few more minutes. The house is clean, just the bathroom sinks can use a shine. The children are showering. The table is already set. My mind begins to ease and I re-focus on the washing of my "Grown in Gaza" salad greens.



Leaf by leaf, I rinse away the Gaza sand in an almost meditative motion. I start to think about Gaza. Do the mortars continue to land within the Jewish cities? When will the army fight back as they can and should? How is Shabbat greeted there? Will they in Gush Katif be granted their much desired rest and relaxation on Shabbat? How much longer can they live in a war zone, protecting a small part of Eretz Yisrael for the sake of HaShem and His chosen people? How many more stories of miracles will be shared about mortars just missing taking human life, and how many more stories of tragedies will have to be endured?



As I continue rinsing my "Gaza greens", I start to think how alone those beloved people must feel. Numbers are deceiving. On the one hand, I think it incredible that the government wants to remove 8,000 Jews from their homes in Eretz Yisrael. Eight thousand. On the other hand, I wonder if the world thinks, "Eh, only eight thousand Jews in exchange for peace. It's worth it."



I think of the efforts of so many, yet really just a few in the scheme of things, who are doing what they can to help the Jews in Gaza: Women in Green collecting signatures of soldiers who will refuse the immoral orders to remove Jews from their homes; Revava and other groups, including the "Hilltop Youth", making plans on how to wake up the Jews at large to the urgent situation at hand, and fighting daily to hold on to every inch of Eretz Yisrael; various writers who post to thousands on the Internet the truth about this tragic and dangerous situation; people who are preparing to settle in Gaza, run to Gaza or block the roads along the way if, G-d forbid, the order is given to destroy the Jewish presence there.



And then, words heard this past week at a Torah class I attended return to my head. We were discussing the halachot involved with giving away "land for peace". We discussed the different views held by various groups of observant Jews with regard to this issue.



And then the question was asked, "What, Rabbi, do you believe certain observant Jews would do if the choice became fight for Eretz Yisrael or leave?"



The rabbi answered, "I believe most of those Jews would leave."



Those words keep turning around in my head along with more questions. But doesn't the halacha state that one can only leave Eretz Yisrael for livelihood, to find a mate or for better Torah learning? Isn't it a mitzvah equal to all the mitzvot in the Torah to live here? Did endless amounts of Jews dream of living in Eretz Yisrael for thousands of years and die fighting for the merit to live here for nothing?



I look down at my "Gaza greens" and suddenly I feel like I've got it. I think I understand a little something. There are thousands of Jews around the world and in Eretz Yisrael who rely on Gaza produce for their vegetable supply. They either want to "guarantee" that there are no bugs in their vegetables, don't want to take the time to check for bugs or don't have confidence in their own bug-checking capabilities. Those who most enjoy and most appreciate Gaza produce are those particular observant Jews. "Gaza greens" are the saving grace. Just "wash and wear", as the saying goes, Badatz heksher and all.



What I "got" is HaShem's interesting sense of humor. What will it take to wake up certain sectors in our society to what we are losing, G-d forbid? What will wake up certain groups both in and out of Eretz Yisrael to the reality that there are serious ramifications to the loss of Gaza (tremendous loss of security for Israel at large, and the sin of giving away Eretz Yisrael being 'minor' problems, of course) is the fact that there won't be any more bug-free Gaza produce for the "very kosher" amongst us to enjoy.



My imagination drifts to some very nice Jewish mother surrounded by her many children struggling to get a healthy dinner on the table. There she is, scarf on her head, robe on her body, house shoes on her feet. With a sigh she states, "Oy, had I only realized how important Gaza was to the survival of my family I would have tried to do something."



I have finished rinsing my "Gaza greens" by now. As I dry them in my salad spinner, I say a silent prayer: "Ribbono Shel Olom, Master of the World, please let all the Jewish homes be granted the merit to rinse their 'Gaza greens' from now on and forever. Amen"