(Reprinted from Di Yiddishe Heim, Summer 5742)

At first I was quite sure that I couldn't do it. My friend Shoshana's proposal was just not for me. "I've been going to the keleh chayalot (military jail for girl soldiers) once a week for several months now with Rivkah G., but her baby is almost due and she wants to stop. Will you come with me instead?"

I looked at her incredulously. Me, an American? You expect me to be able to communicate with Israeli women soldiers, jailed for crimes ranging from not returning from leaves of absence on time, to disciplinary offenses, to possession and sale of drugs?! We come from such different worlds. It will never work!

But Shoshana doesn't take no for an answer, and I allowed myself to be persuaded to try it out. To my surprise, it turned out not to be that much different from other speaking engagements I'd had. Of course, that should be qualified. We had to have a special pass to get through several checkpoints manned by military police. When we arrived at the jail itself we had to wait outside till the barred outer door was unlocked for us. The whole jail was run by women serving in Tzahal, the Israeli army, from the lieutenant down to the wardens. They were all in their early-to-mid-twenties, while the inmates were 18-19. When we were escorted to the workroom where the girls were gathered, I noticed other striking differences. We were always accompanied by one or two policewomen who began each session with a stiff warning to the girls to behave (many were "wild"). The girls wore special uniforms and caps which were different from the ones regular girl-soldiers wore. There were usually between 20-40 girls, and always a mixture of Ashkenazim and Sephardim, and once in a while some new immigrants. There were even a few Americans over the years.

There were usually two distinct levels, immediately detectable. The more intellectual girls had usually been detained for drug abuses and were often from Kibbutzim, while the girls who had been imprisoned for chutzpah were usually much simpler and still showed much belligerence and restlessness towards any authority figure. After a while I got used to all these superficial differences and began to feel heimish.

The staff always greeted us very warmly, and the policewomen who accompanied us were usually very attentive to our talks. The girls had sentences ranging from several days to several months, depending on the severity of their offenses, and there were several girls with whom we developed strong bonds.

My feelings of incompetence vanished after the first time; I realized that my American-ness was not a handicap at all. Shoshana was always there to supply the word that I couldn't remember in Hebrew, and the girls never seemed to be upset by my accent. In Israel, Americans are idealized, and there were always questions about Americans and aliya. I used these questions as a springboard to explain that I hadn't exactly come on aliya, but rather on a mission of the Rebbe Shlita. Since this was the army, I used the analogy of the Rebbe as the Commander-in-Chief and the chassidim as soldiers, always ready and willing to go on whatever mission they were assigned.

Every week we took turns speaking on relevant topics of Yiddishkeit, emphasizing the role of women and girls, and the aspect of teshuvah and hope for the future. For many girls, this was a low point in their lives, and we utilized various topics in Torah to emphasize that there is always hope, and that particularly from the darkness we come to the light. We stressed practical mitzvos that could be done even in jail (lighting Shabbos candles, refraining from smoking on Shabbos, etc.), and we ended each visit by distributing printed cards with our addresses and Shoshana's phone number, with an invitation to spend Shabbos in Kfar Chabad after they were freed. (Several actually did come!).

It always amazed me how the new girls would eye us suspiciously as we entered, but it usually took only a few minutes till a friendly rapport was established. The most important part of the session was the question-and-answer period, when the girls asked many typical questions, and were surprised that the answers were actually very down-to-earth and sensible. We realized that they were not "bad" girls as such, but rather girls who had been influenced by a permissive environment. They had not realized how far they had gone until they were caught. It was the old case of a ruach shtus (a spirit of foolishness) overtaking a person.

One of the most moving events in the jail at Tzrifin took place on Chanukah, when we decided to make a party for the jailed girls. We brought everything from Kfar Chabad -- fruit, drinks, nash, sufganiyot (jelly doughnuts) -- the Israeli Chanukah treat equivalent to potato latkes in America. As we brought in the goodies and set the table we noticed several girls crying. They told us that seeing this was just so emotional for them. The strict atmosphere of the army (which forbade possession of any food treats) had gotten their spirits down, as they expressed it, and the warmth and joy made them forget where they were for a while.

The speaker we brought was a brilliant Baal teshuvah, who himself had served many years in the army. With his sense of humor and sincerity he captivated the audience immediately, and the evening was a memorable one for all of us.

I myself began to look forward to Mondays because that was "jail day." I enjoyed making contact with these girls from all over Israel, and having the chance to give them some light of Torah and thus affect their lives in some way, large or small.

Although the visits of N'shei Chabad to the jail did not, unfortunately, produce many ba'alot teshuvah, there were some very significant changes. These changes came about not only through the weekly visits and talks, but especially thanks to one of the officers who introduced these changes when she herself became frum. She is, perhaps, our greatest success.

Let Chana, the officer, tell her story:

"My return to Torah was influenced by the women from Kfar Chabad who come weekly to speak to the girls at the jail. They were warm and friendly, and extended an invitation to me and other high-ranking officials in the jail to spend Shabbos in their homes. We accepted, and shortly thereafter spent a most eye-opening weekend in Kfar Chabad. We learned a lot about Yiddishkeit. For me, at least, this only whetted my appetite for more.

"During my first Shabbos there, I was introduced to a unique woman, brilliant and well-versed in Torah and Chassidus. Sensing how much she had to teach me, I arranged for a regular study session with her in Chassidus. During this first fascinating year I absorbed a lot of basic knowledge and finally was ready to start observing daily mitzvos.

"As for the effect of N'shei Chabad on the inmates, the prisoners were very receptive to learning about Yiddishkeit, not only because they were, literally, a "captive" audience, lonely and far from home, but also because they had a genuine hunger for the information. Many of these girls asked to light candles on Friday nights, at the proper times. Some of the girls wrote to the Rebbe on different occasions, sending pidyonei nefesh. This was done under the direction of the Chabad women.

"The jail staff, who admired the Chabad women, became close to them and visited them, and in fact, continue to visit Kfar Chabad. Many of the staff members also began lighting candles and keeping kashrus. Some of them now refrain from performing certain melachos (forbidden activities) on Shabbos, and have stopped traveling on Shabbos, etc.

"Personally, at what stage my standards of modesty, both in dress and behavior, changed, is more difficult to describe, as the transformation was a subtle one. When I first became interested in being frum, the difference was only internal, (i.e. on the outside I still looked frei, wearing pants, etc.) but as time passed the change became complete. Soon the difference was obvious; the army uniform took on a new look -- my skirt was the proper length, I wore stockings and a long-sleeved shirt. The girls were at first taken aback and then fascinated. What was causing this metamorphosis? I began introducing Yiddishkeit into the army.

"Although the kitchen was kosher, l had it rekashered and I became much more careful in overall observance. The girls noticed that I didn't eat certain things. I also saw to it that more kosher books were brought into the library. Even those girls who are not yet practicing Yiddishkeit learned a great deal by observing me and asking questions about every area of commitment, particularly shemittah, taharas hamishpacho, Shabbos, kashering of dishes, brochos, etc. When they noticed my dramatic change, a constant barrage of questions followed, which led to discussions of Yiddishkeit.

"At Shevuous I visited Crown Heights for the first time, and I had the merit to receive a blessing from the Rebbe Shlita.

Many of the jail staff attended Chana's wedding on the 12th of Teves this year, when she was married to a wonderful young man, a Baal teshuvah himself, and a former soldier as well. Chana is now working as supervisor of the dorm of Bais Rivka in Kfar Chabad.