The quiet strength of the mitzvot moves through time without noise. It does not seek approval and does not look for attention. Yet it continues. The recent discovery of a mikveh beneath the Kotel plaza belongs to this same strength.

Kallot often ask me questions like: “What should I daven for on my wedding day?” “How can I make my chuppah a truly spiritual experience?” These are beautiful questions that reflect how conscious today’s kallot are about filling their weddings with meaning and kedushah.

As a Mikvah attendant, I have witnessed many moments of deep emotion and transformation. But one evening stands out with particular tenderness — when I had the honor of guiding a woman, a friend, through her Mikvah immersion following a hysterectomy due to breast cancer.

For many years, one of my most personal companions was the mikvah. It arrived in my life when I was young and newly married — a little nervous, a little unsure, clutching a towel and a sense that I was stepping into something ancient and intimate.

I was 35 when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. At the time, I had four little kids, ages six to one and a half. Overnight, we were thrown into a new world — genetics, surgery, chemo, and radiation.

What a blessed, joyous first experience for my daughter, embracing her into the mitzvah of mikveh immersion in a manner that will hopefully connect her to Hashem - and her beloved – with warm, wonderous ties of happiness and holiness, for blessed decades of fertility to come. It was this very positive experience of hers – and of mine alongside her – that struck me painfully as so very much in contrast to my own tevilla experiences.