By Rabbi Sara Cohen, Kibbutz Ketura

YJ Alum: Camp Judaea, Tel Yehudah, Year-Round Clubs, Madrich at Sprout Lake, Year Course, made aliyah to Kibbutz Ketura with Garin Shacharut

Immediately following the attacks on October 7^th Kibbutz Ketura began to provide housing, food, and many other necessities for approximately 400 evacuees. This number does not include Year Course who came to stay in our Keren Kolot guest facility during the beginning of the war.

Due to a little help from our friends (contributions mainly from the U.S., as well as our own tzedakah funds) we were blessed to able to host the evacuees without charge. Presently we are hosting 30 evacuees.  School-aged children of these families are integrated into our regional schools, and we are providing part time pre-school care for the younger kids.

In the early days of the war many members of the kibbutz were active in spontaneous, grass roots volunteer projects such as providing mattresses, toys, psychological counseling, driving people who needed to get to funerals, food, clothing and a range of other needs for the evacuees in our area, Eilat and the nearby army bases. Many of the evacuees who were being housed in Eilat did not only need to flee their homes, they were also dealing with the traumas of witnessing family members murdered , friends and family members being held hostage, and other traumatic events.

Many kibbutz members, residents, and children of members were immediately called into the army reserves and served for months in and around Gaza as well as on the northern border.  Some of these reserve soldiers are still away from home serving in their units. The kibbutz community rallied to provide support for the families of the reserve soldiers, many of them families with young children.  Presently there are also a number of kibbutz members who are actively supporting the families of the hostages in pushing to get their loved ones out of captivity, including attending weekly vigils in Eilat.  In addition, remarkably and heroically, the Arava Institute, an institute dedicated to peace building and environmental studies located on the kibbutz, was able to continue its program and activities, in spite of the war and despite of all of the technical and emotional difficulties involved in that effort.

By Tracie Basch, Participant on Alumni Trip to Israel, January 2024

On the morning of October 7th, I was the last in the family to wake up. Coming out of my room I remember my 17 year old, saying “Mom, you need a hug.” I looked at him strangely, still half asleep, and he repeated it. He hugged me and said, “There was an attack.” Life changed. When reality settled in, I had one thought – I needed to go to Israel. A few days later I shared this with my husband, who, with the wisdom of 19 years of marriage replied, “tell me what you’re going to do, and we can talk.” Within weeks, Young Judea organized an Israel trip. Details were light – circumstances change constantly during war. The what didn’t matter. Being there did. And so, at the end of January, I found myself at JFK waiting for my El Al flight to Israel.

Upon landing, the stress that permeated my body and soul since October 7th disappeared. I truly felt safe (experiencing a Red Alert later in the week didn’t change that). My introduction to the current Israel began in the airport. There was a large ‘Bring Them Home’ banner with dog tags of all sizes hanging. The way to immigration is lined with posters of hostages. Not the usual greeting, but a foreshadowing of the week ahead. A week Being of Service and Bearing Witness.

Being of Service
Two grassroots organizations, Achim Laneshek and Eran’s Angels field requests for items – food, clothing, diapers, formula, books – from displaced families. They receive no government funding. There’s something about packing items for a two-month-old that has known nothing but a hotel room that just breaks you.

For two days we were agricultural workers in the Hefer Valley’s Moshav Achituv, responsible for growing 80% of Israel’s cucumbers. Most workers are either serving or are Thai who returned home. We removed leaves so the cucumbers got nutrients and picked cucumbers. Helping the farmers and feeding a nation torn by war was one of the most impactful and meaningful things I have ever done. Knowing the work that it took to convert this malaria infested swampland into lush and fertile farms and that my hands in the dirt followed those that came before me, connected me to Israel as never before. I could have picked cucumbers for days.

Bearing Witness
There isn’t anyone in Israel who hasn’t been personally impacted by October 7th. We were honored to meet some who not only shared their experiences but want the world to hear what happened. Here are some of their stories.

Noam, a 45-year-old single father of three survived Nova. He described the festival’s atmosphere as being “like a heart above us”. People were happy, free, alive. Until 6:30am. There was disbelief because this was “not the place where people were going to butcher you.” He rescued 15 people that day.

We met Gili Adar’s parents at her grave. Just 24 when she was murdered at Nova. By all accounts, she wasn’t just a ray of light – she was the sun itself.

Adele Raemer shared not only her survival story on Kibbutz Nirim, but that of her son-in-law and grandchildren also living there. The kibbutz is now relocated to Be’er Sheva and interestingly for a collective community, nobody discusses whether they will return. For the record, she will.

Timor is an Ashkelon police officer living in Sderot. He usually works a desk, but he answered the call that morning and, knew that his job was to delay the terrorists from entering Ashkelon. Shot in the arm, he applied a tourniquet and continued his mission, saving an untold number of lives. He has already undergone three surgeries.

Ramo Salmn El-Hazayil, a Bedouin police officer, took a security job at Nova. When leaving home that morning, something made him take a third magazine. Armed with just a 9mm and two magazines (he gave the third away), he single-handedly rescued over 200 teenagers – driving back and forth along the road to a greenhouse. Regardless of the experience and the person, there are consistent themes – nobody discussed politics, but ALL feel betrayed and let down by the government; all are heroes but don’t think that – they believe they did what needed to be done and what anyone would have done; they admit to still being IN trauma, in fact the entire country is IN trauma; the main goal is to bring the hostages home – everything else is secondary; it’s hard to envision a tomorrow, when today is October 7th the XXX (fill in for today), but there’s confidence that tomorrow WILL COME.

The People
A lot can be said of Israelis. I liken them to a sabra fruit – hard and prickly on the outside, but once you crack that outer skin, it is soft and sweet. The shell is there out of necessity. How else can over 130,000 people be displaced from their homes, moved into hotels and yet still smile and laugh?

The hotels are full with displaced people. Refugees in their own country. The common areas are gathering places. The lobby bar – where kids do homework. The corridor – home to a knitting circle. It is noisy and boisterous. As life should be.

At Aroma Café, a mile from Gaza, we met soldiers eating. They kept refusing our offer to buy lunch – because what about the others? Only when assured that the others were taken care of, could we pay. Gaza is a stone’s throw away, and these soldiers thanked us and told us we were brave for coming, that our presence gave them strength to complete the mission. They kept asking how things were in the US. Chayalim are a breed unto themselves.

There are images forever seared in my brain. The soldier in Har Herzl at her boyfriend’s grave meticulously cleaning it, kissing the headstone, laying a rose, unable to leave. The man sitting between the graves of two brothers, born years apart, both dying October 7th. The group from Women Wage Peace who come to Hostage Square to keep attention on the hostages. The orthodox woman in Machne Yehuda in a feminine long flowing skirt and blouse, on her back a machine gun.

This is just the surface – I didn’t touch on the experts we heard from or our visit to Hadassah or what we heard from the head of the Rape & Sexual Assault Center Tel Aviv. I didn’t go into the details of each person’s story – trust me, each one is a harrowing tale of survival and how decisions made in a flash mean all the difference. To do all of this, would easily fill a novel.

If you can, go to Israel. Be there. It doesn’t matter if you can pack boxes, pick produce, make sandwiches – just be present. In addition to helping an economy devastated by war, our presence gives strength to the soldiers and the people. Am Yisrael Chai.

By Hila Beckerman, Participant on YJ Alum Volunteer Trip in Israel, January 2024

“So…how was it????” they ask with a smile on their face
In anticipation of fun stories from the Holy Land place,
The place where religions and cultures all melt,
The place where the bible landed its belt.

The place where the people want peace which won’t come,
Where humans are walking around like they’re numb,
Still in disbelief, horror, in shock and in pain,
From a dream exploded in torrential rain.

Coming into reality no one wanted to face,
Where a music festival turned into a race,
For survival, for escape, for a flight from the hell
That Noam, the survivor, will tell of his tale
Of sheer luck, sheer fate, and the guilt of survival,
The trauma on his face, his sign of arrival.

“How was it!?” I’ll reply, holding back tears
It was an awfully painful realization of fears.
The world marches on, people laugh, and they quip
But my mind is in Israel on the Young Judaea trip.
My body is home trying to get back to tomorrow,
But my mind is a sad heavy sponge full of sorrow.

For the world that didn’t have to suffer this way,
For Gili’s parents who sit and watch the sunset each day,
Without their beautiful girl with a smile you can’t miss
For all the families whose loved ones they’ll no longer kiss.

Yet despite all the sadness, anger, and hate,
We also bore witness to a power so great,
So unexpected, so strong, that it left me in awe –
The power of people that even so raw,
So damaged, so hurt, each stepped in where they could
Because staying at home was not something they would
Do at a time when their people were hurting,
Hotels full of families relocated, diverting,
Shouting at protests, demanding a change,
Coming up with solutions for problems that range
From toys for the children displaced from their homes
To food for the soldiers, shaving kits, and combs.

One little country, a home for the Jews
Saved from the slaughter by the kindness of Druze.
Working together, heroes arose
All fighting, united, against common foes.

And that is the light at the end of their tunnel
The light that will focus us all like a funnel,
Concentrating the power the people possess
The love and the beauty of a land which is blessed.
They – from within, and us from a distance,
Endlessly, lovingly offer assistance,
No task is too great, no objective too tall
To help our dear country up when it falls.
There is no doubt we will all dance again,
In peace and in safety, we’ll all sing Amen.

For more participant reflections click here

By Adina Frydman, Young Judaea CEO, after traveling to Israel on an Alumni Volunteer trip in January 2024

I am on a plane on my way home from leading a Young Judaea alumni trip to Israel, where we spent 6 days volunteering, bearing witness by hearing stories from survivors, victims, and heroes, and seeing firsthand the physical, emotional, and spiritual toll of this war. The alumni spanned from ages 35 to 75 and represented a range of Young Judaea experiences from our summer camps to our gap year, to our year-round youth programming. What united us was the single-minded mission we were on: to listen, to learn and to help.

This is the first trip to Israel I have led since October 7^th, and I had assumptions of what Israel might be like at this time, but what I could not have been prepared for was the atmosphere/the avira of unfolding trauma in Israel. It is very hard to process or move on when it is not yet over. Everyone has a personal connection, someone lost, someone missing, someone serving in or near Gaza or on the Lebanon border. What you feel when talking to people is that there has been a rupture. Not only because of the profound losses but also because of many of the things that Israelis held to be true are now in question.

One thing that is certain is the tremendous resiliency that is emerging in the form of volunteerism, and it is a great unifier. Israelis are a living example of “kol Israel areyvim ze ba zeh” – one caring for the other. Everywhere you look there are acts of hesed/kindness. Families setting up pop up restaurants in gas stations to serve food to soldiers, massive collection and distribution sites led by volunteers to provide essentials to displaced families, individuals taking time off of work to help farmers with their farms, so their harvests are not spoiled, and hundreds more examples of a civil society being built from the grass roots up.

Most Israelis have a clear sense of what needs to be done now, bringing the hostages home, versus what will need to be done when the war is over. They are still very much in it, and clear about the unity that should prevail at this time. As I look around, I see that people are tired, disillusioned, and conflicted. This is the most honest and vulnerable I have seen Israel in my lifetime. Perhaps it is from this authentic and raw place that we will figure out what tomorrow will look like.

As we wrapped up our trip, we wondered how we would bring home what we learned.

There is no simple answer to the question, “how was it?” but we are each bringing back the stories of individuals, the stories that reveal the pain of the loss and the pride of the heroism, the agony of the waiting, and the joy that persists in everyday living. Weddings are still taking place, babies are still being born, and life goes on – it is the ultimate act of resistance. We have a responsibility to share their stories, to show them they are not alone and that we are with them. Everywhere we turned people thanked us, thanked us? Can you believe it? Having given the ultimate sacrifice, it was us who should be thanking them. But the truth is that they feel incredibly isolated, alone, and tired. If each of us took the time in the coming months to go to Israel and to do our small part by listening, hugging, and volunteering, it would help us collectively heal and find the inner strength to figure out what’s next and how we can move together towards that future. No one has the answers now but it is clear that there is no going back to where we were, and it is not yet clear where we need to go.

As the CEO of Young Judaea, one of the oldest Zionist youth movements in North America I spend a lot of time thinking about today’s Jewish youth and their connection to Israel. I am very concerned. This moment has revealed some deep cracks in our approach to Israel education. While this moment has pulled some closer to Israel, it has pushed many further away. We cannot ignore the North American context within which we live that gives preference to universal values over particular/nationalistic ones. We cannot ignore that a large segment of our Jewish youth got the memo about caring about humanity, and although this is a great thing, somehow it creates a blind spot when it comes to Israel because it doesn’t fit neatly in the narrative for us to be the oppressed. We cannot ignore that even Israelis have found a way to love and to criticize Israel but that somehow for North Americans, Israel has become so precious, the narrative so polished that we created an impossible ideal, one built mostly on hasbara/advocacy, that is sure to disappoint.

Our teens, college students and young adults are lost at this moment. We have not prepared them, and we have only fed into the binaries of left and right and pro or anti that are driving them out instead of keeping them connected.

At Young Judaea, we talk about a Zionist big tent, a safe space for youth to learn about, engage with, and think critically about Israel. Underlying is a deep and unwavering Ahavat Israel, not a love specifically of Israeli government or military policies of any given moment, but an abiding love for the Israel that ought to be. The Israel of our Zionist dreams and the one that we commit to work towards. Alongside that love of Zionism is a commitment to tikkun olam, to repairing the broader world. A commitment to both our particular and universal ideals. We don’t have to choose; they can stand side by side. We marched for civil rights for African Americans AND for freeing of our soviet Jewry, we advocate for humanitarian aid for Gazans AND condemn the horrific massacre against our people enacted by Hamas. We can proclaim that “all people matter” AND that we have a unique responsibility to our Jewish community.

The most vulnerable among us at this moment are those who closely align with social justice causes and communities yet feel deeply connected yet conflicted about Israel. They have been shunned by their fellow social justice advocates simply because they are Jewish, and anti-Israel and anti-Jewish sentiments are now co-mingled, yet they feel conflicted about an a purely pro-Israel approach. These young Jews are literally in no-man’s land, and we are at risk of losing them. How can we create a place in our tents for them? They represent the “troubled committed,” as Donniel Hartman would say.

Can we model the vulnerability and honesty of Israelis at this moment, acknowledging both the resolve and support while engaging in deep heshbon hanefesh, soul searching for what we want this nation-state of ours to become?  What is our role in that? How can we, as North American Zionist organizations model the unity that is so desperately needed to help us emerge triumphant in this moment.

Gil Troy, historian and scholar of Zionism, and Young Judaea alum, said it this way during the closing talk of our trip. Everywhere in Israel we see the words, “B’yachad N’natzeach”. But N’natzeach is not necessarily only about a military victory, it is about the fact that together, only in unity, will we triumph, rebuilding our individual and collective spirit, our inter and intra community relationships, our civil society, enacting our historic and renewed Zionist ideals. Although alone we may feel defeated, together, we will prevail.

I was struck with the group traveling how connected we felt at the end of the trip, yes, we had experienced something transformational and been vulnerable together, but more than that, it was the experience of this trip that reignited our Young Judaean ideals. Deep down within each of us is that optimistic child, who, fueled by their idealism and encouraged by their group of friends, can work toward a better tomorrow. That is the ageless power of being part of this movement.

Several months following the October 7th attacks on Israel, 30 Young Judaea Alumni embarked on a transformative volunteer trip in Israel. The group spent time volunteering with various organizations, heard stories from survivors and heroes of the war, attended a panel of YJ Alum living in Israel, spent an evening with Year Course and had Shabbat at Kibbutz Ketura.

Below are excerpts from journals and reflections of the participants:

Talia Goldin

✈ How was it? I’m asked, as I think back to sharing a hotel with over 150 displaced families, who can’t go home because their communities have been destroyed.

🏡 How was it? I’m asked, as I recall our conversations with Nova Festival survivors, first responders, and kibbutzniks, who have been through hell and back – seeing atrocities nobody should ever have to witness, who lost loved ones violently in front of their eyes.

💔 How was it? I’m asked, as I think about the farm that supplies 80% of the country’s cucumbers, desperately appreciative we had come to volunteer, because they should have 35 workers and now they only have 2.

🧺 How was it? I’m asked, as I remember the faces of 130+ hostages, still in Hamas captivity, plastered on every wall, every building, every walkway.

🏢 How was it? I’m asked, as I think back to 10 days in my beloved country, a place whose people are crying and broken. Who are begging for the world to stand with them, but are being met by more hate.

Things will never be the same in Israel, but I will always be there for you, especially when you need me. To learn, to help, to hug, to listen. I stand with you forever and always.

💙 Am Yisrael Chai 💙

Rachel Plafker Esrig

Each resident that we met was quick to tell us their individual October 7th story. The entire country was, analogously, like the United States on September 12, 2001. Speaking slowly, with precise diction and obvious emotion, we witnessed Israelis in some yet unspecified stage of shock, but needing to share their experience as a step in their eventual healing. We had meals with many friends and acquaintances during our week. They had all lost count of the many shivas they had attended.  And again, each one needed to share in order to process. They needed us to know about their trauma: their murdered or kidnapped relatives, their newfound lack of trust given that they had believed relations with Gazan had rested on something akin to mutual respect and personal interactions.

The other prevailing message was one of gratitude.  By just stepping on Israeli soil, we had already helped.   They could not believe that middle aged, “comfortable” Americans had taken time out of their daily lives and jobs to pick their weeds, irrigate fields, clean their childrens’ toys, but most of all:  to listen.  They felt seen, heard and understood, to the best of our insufficient abilities.  We felt like human sponges, soaking all their sadness.

Read the Full Blog Here

 

Ann Baker Ronn

We visited the Bedouin village of Rahat and heard an unbelievable story of Bedouin Police Officer Ramo who saved over 200 lives at the Nova Music Festival. He arrived around 6 AM for his shift (a way to make extra money for his family) and soon after he arrived hundreds of rockets started. He and a colleague took a photo in front of the festival tent saying if they survived the photo would be a memory of their morning.

When the Hamas Terrorists arrived, he witnessed 26 other officers killed, leaving only 10 police officers to assist the 3500 attendees. His regular job is a homicide detective. His car was hit by a RPG so he searched for a car that had gas and keys in it. Once he located a car with keys and gas he drove frantically to gather young people into the car.  He drove them to safety in nearby greenhouses.

Read the Full Blog Here

Rabbi Neal I Borovitz

From the military cemetery on Mount Herzl we proceeded to Hadassah Hospital where we fulfilled the Mitzvah of Bikur Holit , visiting the sick, including a police officer who was wounded in Sderot on October 7th by the Hamas terrorists who invaded Israel. We also met with a Haddassah nurse who had just returned from active duty in Gaza. In addition to describing for us the emotional experience of delivering  a Palestinian baby under fire in Gaza, he described for us  the  experience of  rescuing wounded soldiers from battle in an “ open Humvee”. This nurse’s description of both saving soldiers and delivering a Palestinian child, while under fire in Gaza, coupled  with the story I heard from a friend that night regarding her son in law’s experience in riding along as the” protection “ on one of these rescue vehicles, I have come to a new level of realization of how ingrained in the psyche and souls of Israelis is the Talmudic teaching of the ultimate value of every single human life, Jew or Non Jew.

Read the Full Blog Here

 

Adina Frydman

There is no simple answer to the question, “how was it?” but we are each bringing back the stories of individuals, the stories that reveal the pain of the loss and the pride of the heroism, the agony of the waiting, and the joy that persists in everyday living. Weddings are still taking place, babies are still being born, and life goes on – it is the ultimate act of resistance. We have a responsibility to share their stories, to show them they are not alone and that we are with them. Everywhere we turned people thanked us, thanked us? Can you believe it? Having given the ultimate sacrifice, it was us who should be thanking them. But the truth is that they feel incredibly isolated, alone, and tired. If each of us took the time in the coming months to go to Israel and to do our small part by listening, hugging, and volunteering, it would help us collectively heal and find the inner strength to figure out what’s next and how we can move together towards that future. No one has the answers now but it is clear that there is no going back to where we were, and it is not yet clear where we need to go.

Read the Full Blog Here

Chuck Fox

Read Chuck’s detailed recount of stories from survivors and heroes of the war, as told to the group in Israel.

Vivian Genn-Pittman

I was nervous and also excited to go to Israel during this uncertain time.

Once in Israel, my heart was both broken and full. I was emotional, and grateful to be there.

I was inspired to be in Israel, to be in our beautiful country, our Jewish homeland, and to see people coming together to help, repair and move forward with strength.

In Israel, I laughed with family and friends, and cried at the devastating loss and ongoing challenges. I learned from soldiers within and close to my family about the unbelievable situations they face daily, and spoke with people who have lost loved ones or are waiting for loved ones to return home. I listened to one cousin decide which funeral to attend as she had two in one day, another explain the great measures the IDF takes to preserve all civilian life, and yet another explain how she and other psychologists are completely overwhelmed by the enormous and seemingly never-ending needs of a traumatized society.

Read the Full Blog Here

 

Tracie Basch

A lot can be said of Israelis. I liken them to a sabra fruit – hard and prickly on the outside, but once you crack that outer skin, it is soft and sweet. The shell is there out of necessity. How else can over 130,000 people be displaced from their homes, moved into hotels and yet still smile and laugh?

Read the Full Blog Here

An Insightful and Emotional Journey in Israel

By Rabbi Neal I Borovitz

Rabbi Emeritus Temple Avodat Shalom River Edge NJ

YJ Alum, Participant on the YJ Alumni Volunteer Trip in Israel, January 2024

In Mishna Peah we learn that among the Mitzvot that are “beyond measure” are “Gemilut Hasadim” Deeds of Kindness. Our liturgy defines this category of action to include the affirmative actions of visiting the sick and comforting the bereaved.

On my most recent trip to Israel as part of a Young Judaea Volunteer group, (January 26-February 4)  I came to understand the true meaning of this teaching. I have been traveling regularly to Israel since 1968 when I spent my junior year of college in Israel. Over the last 56 years,  I have been to Israel in both joyous times and difficult days; at celebrations of peace and in times of war. Never before, even in the depths of the Intifada has my awe and admiration for the Israeli public been greater, as I experienced first hand average Israelis standing up for each other and reaching out to help each other in the face of the greatest existential crisis in the  history of Israel.

I specifically chose this Young Judaea trip because it was a week built around three days of volunteer service. I didn’t want to just bear witness to the tragedy of this war, but rather wanted to experience first hand the volunteer efforts that Israeli Civil society are undertaking

For two days we volunteered  with “Achim Bneshek”  Brothers in Arms, a volunteer group that arose a year ago as one of the leading organizers of the public protests against the Israeli government’s attack on the Court system. On October 7th, this protest group, led by retired and reserve military officers, pivoted from political action to social service. We volunteered at a vast distribution center that has been set up at the  Tel Aviv Expo convention center,  where supplies are gathered, sorted and distributed to the nearly 200,000 Israelis who have been displaced from their homes in both the North and South of Israel by this war. Packing boxes with food, hygiene supplies, clothing and toys requested by families, was truly a Mitzvah “ beyond measure”. Having met many multi generational families living in our hotel in Tel Aviv who have been displaced from both Sederet on the Gaza border and Kiryat Shmona on the Lebanon border who are recipients of packages such as we were preparing, made me feel both grateful and sad; Grateful that Israelis are saying through these action, Hineni, I am here to help my brethren, and sad that this is necessary.

Our third day of volunteering involved harvesting cucumbers on a Moshav. The majority of foreign workers who worked in agriculture have fled Israel following the Hamas invasion and massacre of October 7th. The overall labor shortage in  Israel is made even worse by the massive number of Israelis who have been called up to active duty. The depth of  gratitude of the farmer whose crops were helping to harvest was confirmation for many of us that our presence in Israel at this time was truly beyond measure.

While the focus of the Young Judaea trip was volunteering our time with NGO groups which have stepped into the void left by the government’s inability to meet the social service needs of hundreds of thousands of Israelis, I did have limited time to visit Israeli friends and to  hear their personal stories about how October 7th and the War, now in its sixth month,  have impacted them, their children and grandchildren and the families of every Israeli. The fear for the fate of the hostages, the concern for the soldiers on the front lines and their anger and frustration with both Hamas and the Israeli government was clear. So too was their determination to do their part to not only survive this war but to rebuild a better Israel.

These feelings were amplified  in meeting with the families of hostages and those murdered on October 7th  and listening to their anger and frustration with both the Israeli government’s inaction on October 7th and what they see as its non prioritizing of the fate of the remaining hostages. One of the most powerful experiences of the week was standing in the rain with parents at the grave  of their 24 year old daughter Gili,  who was  murdered at the Nova music festival. Members of our group knew Gili, who had been a counselor at  Young Judaea Camp Tel Yehudah this past summer.

Another poignant experience for me was Reading Amichai’s poem “The Diameter of the Bomb” and reciting memorial prayers on Mount Herzl at the fresh graves of soldiers who have fallen in Gaza.  The constant flow of strangers, friends and family, along with uniformed soldiers coming by to cry while expressing gratitude and love was overwhelming.

From the military cemetery on Mount Herzl we proceeded to Hadassah Hospital where we fulfilled the Mitzvah of Bikur Holit , visiting the sick, including a police officer who was wounded in Sderot on October 7th by the Hamas terrorists who invaded Israel. We also met with a Hadassah nurse who had just returned from active duty in Gaza. In addition to describing for us the emotional experience of delivering  a Palestinian baby under fire in Gaza, he described for us  the  experience of  rescuing wounded soldiers from battle in an “ open Humvee.” This nurse’s description of both saving soldiers and delivering a Palestinian child, while under fire in Gaza, coupled with the story I heard from a friend that night regarding her son in law’s experience in riding along as the” protection “ on one of these rescue vehicles, I have come to a new level of realization of how ingrained in the psyche and souls of Israelis is the Talmudic teaching of the ultimate value of every single human life, Jew or Non Jew.

On Friday on our way to spend Shabbat at Kibbutz Ketura, we stopped in a Bedouin community, Rahat near a Beer Sheva.  There we heard  the story of an Israeli Bedouin police officer who personally saved some 200 people from the Nova festival by continually driving out small groups of festival attendees to safety in his car. The officer, speaking to us in Hebrew, was adamant in not seeing his actions as heroic. Rather for him, it was his responsibility as a policeman, as an Israeli and as a human being. His regret was his inability to help more people.

Shabbat at Kibbutz Ketura offered the thirty of us who had traveled together a spiritual opportunity for reflection and left me with true hope for the future of Israel.

Ketura is a Kibbutz  founded 50 years ago  by Young Judaeans who had made Aliyah. Originally a kibbutz whose economy was based upon agriculture, Ketura is today the solar energy “engine” of Israel. In addition to the solar power it produces and sells, in Israel and Jordan that powers multiple communities on both sides of the border, its Arafat Institute is a world class research institute where Israelis, Jordanians and Palestinians work and study together.

In informal discussions before and after Shabbat services and in and around the dining hall, I was awed by the facts that the members of this Kibbutz community remained firmly committed to BOTH the security of Israel and safety of all its citizens, Jews and Arabs alike, but also equally committed to pursuing, what I believe is the awesome  task which, post October 7th has become an even greater imperative; a two state solution where Palestinians have the right and responsibility to live independently and at peace with Israel.

For more participant reflections click here

By Ann Baker Ronn, YJ Alum, Participant on the YJ Alumni Volunteer Trip in Israel, January 2024
We visited the Bedouin village of Rahat and heard an unbelievable story of Bedouin Police Officer Ramo who saved over 200 lives at the Nova Music Festival. He arrived around 6 AM for his shift (a way to make extra money for his family) and soon after he arrived hundreds of rockets started. He and a colleague took a photo in front of the festival tent saying if they survived the photo would be a memory of their morning.

When the Hamas Terrorists arrived, he witnessed 26 other officers killed, leaving only 10 police officers to assist the 3500 attendees. His regular job is a homicide detective. His car was hit by a RPG so he searched for a car that had gas and keys in it. Once he located a car with keys and gas he drove frantically to gather young people into the car.  He drove them to safety in nearby greenhouses. Each time he dropped a group, he was filled with fear as bullets and RPGs and rockets were going off above him and all around him. When he drove back to get more young festival attendees, he was in tears describing the hundreds of massacred bodies.

He is a homicide detective so he is used to seeing dead bodies. He shared that he was in shock how many dead bodies were on the grounds of the festival as well as littered along the roads. He had to drive through empty fields in order to avoid the bodies and the Hamas terrorists who were blocking the road so people could not escape. At one point he found another police officer (they both only had a handgun with them to protect themselves) & he invited the officer to join him. He said that having someone with him gave him more courage to continue returning to save the festival attendees. Each time he drove back into the chaos he told us he experienced so much fear yet continued to go back in multiple times, putting his life at risk. He showed us some videos and photos that he took during the several hours he rescued young people. There were many photos he could not share with us as they were too graphic. He shared a photo of his destroyed car and the owner of the car he found with keys in it that was full of gas so he could use it to save everyone.

Miraculously, neither Officer Rambo or the car he borrowed were hit by any bullets. After many hours of working non-stop to save Nova festival-goers he was driven home. He asked to be dropped away from his home so he could walk home and try to calm down before arriving home to be with his wife and children. His wife felt his presence and packed the children in to her car to meet him.  Inside the car there was silence other than many tears shed by Officer Ramo, his wife and his children. As you can see from the photos Officer Ramo is a small man.

When we told him he was a hero he disagreed and he said he was just doing “his job.” He has not had 1 day off since October 7 and he said he doesn’t want to take any time off to think about the trauma he experienced that day. Some people on our program tried to give him money to help his family and he told us he cannot accept money as he is a law enforcement officer. We all gathered around him taking photos and hugging him tightly.  When I hugged him, he would not let go. Office Ramo is one of the many brave Israeli citizens we met during our time in Israel.

For more participant reflections click here

By Rachel Plafker Esrig, YJ Alum, Participant on the YJ Alumni Volunteer Trip in Israel, January 2024

Like so many connected Diaspora Jews the day after the Hamas attack,  my husband Dave and I were desperate to go to Israel. We began to throw money at every plea for funds, every letter, every WhatsApp message, quickly maxing out our credit cards, reloading and donating again.  But no amount of clicking on internet links seemed sufficient.

Dave and I were among the lucky ones; we devised a tangible way to help.  Responding to multiple calls to bring duffle bags and necessary equipment to Israel, we bought Dave a ticket to Tel Aviv on October 29th, and enabled the transfer of arms, protective gear, medical equipment and more in a manic 36 hour venture.

Even that didn’t feel like enough.

I decided that my 55th birthday gift would be participating in a volunteer program. I was heartened by the response: my supportive boss said to me, “just let me know how much time you need.” I had already taken two weeks off from work. We signed up to spend a week volunteering with JNF.  I looked for and found a second program with Young Judaea, where my Zionist heart resides.

Those of us who have witnessed and eagerly volunteered in these programs struggle  to find the words that describe our experiences “Transformative, depressing, uplifting and gratifying” all seemed apt, but not sufficient. First night, I found myself in a beautiful hotel in the Negev, living among evacuee families. Not the usual sight in a hotel lobby: strollers, pajamas, guns and exhausted parents.

On our first day with JNF we set out for Kibbutz Gvulot, 11 km from Gaza, and thus particularly vulnerable. The kibbutz was so close to the border that victims from neighboring kibbutzim ran there during the attacks.   Donning gardening gloves, we weeded neglected flower beds, laid water pipes for irrigation, and spruced up the school in anticipation of the return of students some three months after their evacuation. Cleaning and polishing toys only brought home how suddenly these homes had been abandoned; they had been untouched for three months.

Each resident that we met was quick to tell us their individual October 7th story. The entire country was, analogously, like the United States on September 12, 2001. Speaking slowly, with precise diction and obvious emotion, we witnessed Israelis in some yet unspecified stage of shock, but needing to share their experience as a step in their eventual healing. We had meals with many friends and acquaintances during our week. They had all lost count of the many shivas they had attended.  And again, each one needed to share in order to process. They needed us to know about their trauma: their murdered or kidnapped relatives, their newfound lack of trust given that they had believed relations with Gazan had rested on something akin to mutual respect and personal interactions.

The other prevailing message was one of gratitude.  By just stepping on Israeli soil, we had already helped.   They could not believe that middle aged, “comfortable” Americans had taken time out of their daily lives and jobs to pick their weeds, irrigate fields, clean their childrens’ toys, but most of all:  to listen.  They felt seen, heard and understood, to the best of our insufficient abilities.  We felt like human sponges, soaking all their sadness.

Perhaps the most harrowing site we visited was the beautiful grove of trees that housed the Nova festival, where hundreds of young people were mercilessly slaughtered or kidnapped. The Jewish National Fund organized the planting of trees; both as a remembrance of young lives and to honor the holiday of  Tu b’shvat, that commemorates the New Year of the Trees. The field encased in a stunning grove of trees has now become hallowed ground, similar to Gettysburg or Ground Zero NYC.  Each young victim of the Oct 7^th massacre – those murdered and those kidnapped –  has a picture on a stand with candles and personal tributes scattered at their base.

I noticed a dark-skinned man with a white beard sobbing as he decorated  a picture of a beautiful young woman with rhinestone stickers.  I asked if he was a relative and he just shook his head no.  Later, as he walked away still crying, a friend and I offered him hugs.  With Indiana-accented English, this new citizen of Israel  explained that he comes there to pay tribute to those he feels do not get as many visitors.  “It’s just evil that was done here,” he said sobbing. “Pure Evil.

At the music festival site, we spoke to the soldiers currently responsible for collecting the bodies of our fallen.  They spoke with reverence of the opportunity to perform the ultimate mitzvah, one that the recipient can never repay. The other site we visited was no less wrenching: the (temporary) graves of the Kibbutz Be’eri slaughter. How can one describe seeing  whole families buried together? In the North, we stood with the parents of a young victim by her graveside and heard stories of her beautiful, positive soul.  We listened, cried and tried to comprehend the incomprehensible.

And we hugged.  Because words were insufficient.

Earlier in the week we had packed care packages – treats, socks, rations – for soldiers. The evening after the visit to the Nova site, we delivered the packages and danced with soldiers in a volunteer-run ‘staging area’ – complete with a band composed of special-needs soldiers. Also in the tent was a lending library, a haircut station, massage opportunities and tables devoted to backgammon.  I was introduced to heavy metal dancing there, that is, dancing a hora while avoiding bumping into a myriad of M16’s slung over every soldier’s shoulder. We danced with such joy and resolve.  “We will dance tonight, tomorrow we will fight.”

In the evenings, after our agricultural and other volunteer activities had ended for the day, we listened to a host of speakers. Professor Noah Ephron, from Bar Ilan, shared a chilling story of a collective of computer experts helping to find and identify victims, including the suggestion to see if migration patterns of birds of prey had changed. We also heard of Professor Ephron’s new concept of Zionism that emanates from our newfound appreciation for each other as victims of recrudescent anti-Semitism and the recognition we cannot survive in this world without each other.  We heard from many survivors, some who performed incredible heroic acts and now just want their lives back, and that the war no one asked for to end.

At the end of the Young Judaea volunteer week, we were asked to summarize our experience in one word.  The prevailing theme was one of gratitude and hope.  We were all reminded of the ability of Jews and Arabs to live together peacefully, as we saw in the halls of Seroka Medical Center in Beersheva and in the Beduoin  town of Rahat.  Israel will prevail, because she has no choice.   To paraphrase, Golda Meir, we Jews have a secret weapon. .. . we have no where else to go.   And we choose Life.

Am Yisrael Chai.

For more participant reflections click here

By Jonny Jentis, National Mazkir 2023-2024Z

10 years. For 10 years, I spent my Havdalah circled around a singular candle, arms resting on the shoulders of my closest friends. For 10 years, I have learned and grown, discovering my Jewish identity and the world I live in. For 10 years, I have lived and breathed Young Judaea. As I stood at the center of Havdalah this year at National Convention, I began to realize my time as a teen in Young Judaea is coming to an end. Ever since 7-year-old Jonny sat on the basketball courts at Camp Sprout Lake, I have known Young Judaea to be my second home. As I continue to work at TY and watch the movement grow, I cannot help but feel grateful for all that I’ve been given.

National Convention wrapped up a few weeks ago and I cherished every second. As teens from across the country flew in for the weekend, hugs and exclamations filled the air. Teens from Washington, Texas, Chicago, Georgia, Pittsburgh, Israel, and many other places joined us in eastern Pennsylvania with nearly 100 teens in attendance, the largest National Convention in countless years. The YJ atmosphere fell into place immediately, with teens meeting and laughing through the night. A peaceful Kabbalat Shabbat was followed by hilarious Oneg to end the evening.

Throughout the weekend, peulot planned by the National Mazkirut created riveting discussions amongst the teens on what it means to be a Jew in the diaspora, how to examine the Israel-Palestine conflict without bias, and the effect of social media on global conflict. The broad perspectives brought by our teens never failed to blow me away as I led my discussion group. Conversations that should have taken 20 minutes continued into chofesh and beyond as teens beautifully expressed their unique perspectives. Getting to watch and participate in these discussions has always been a highlight of my YJ experience and I was thrilled to see how invested everyone became. 

Further cementing our commitment to the National Initiative of Israel, our wonderful CEO Adina Frydman ran a touching activity discussing the current conflict, the hostage situation, the “Hostages on the Heart” campaign, and what we could do. All the teens at Convention wrote touching cards to the brave IDF soldiers serving in the conflict.

Convention could not have been complete without electing the next National Mazkirut during Asepha. Almost every election had highly contested runnings and candidates won by only a few votes. As the current National Mazkirut begins working on making the transition as smooth as possible, I am sure that the incoming group is going to be wonderful. I wait with anticipation to see the accomplishments they are able to boast throughout their terms.

As people left convention, there seemed to be a singular thought amongst participants: When’s the next one? Teens across the country have taken it upon themselves to work with us to create active groups in their communities. With events being planned in Georgia, Texas and LA, it seems that Young Judaea is only going to continue to grow. I, myself, am extremely excited for Midwest Convention to see all the hard work that they have been putting in over the past few months. 

Before I end, I want to thank all of the people who made Convention possible. Firstly, everyone who came; Convention could not have possibly been as amazing as it was without everyone in attendance. The willingness to try new things, participate, and be happy created the atmosphere of YJ that I have come to know and love. Next I would like to thank Sara, Erica, Allegra, Amit, and all the other people who staffed convention and who worked so hard to make the weekend possible and who made sure the weekend ran smoothly. We wouldn’t have had a location, much less anything else that needed to happen without you all. Even though you may have given me the reins during the weekend, I couldn’t have done any of it without you. A special thanks to Allegra for giving me a Walkie-talkie; even though I didn’t use it much, it made me feel important. Lastly, I want to thank my National Mazkirut: Sari Goodman, Ilan Greenberg, Dora Stodolsky, Leo Wilchfort, and Noah Volkman. These teens ran convention with confidence and ruach that were one hundred times greater than I ever could have dreamed of. Their masterful planning, superb peulot, and boundless creativity and dedication are truly admirable and I could not be prouder of them.

Convention lived up to my dreams of what it would be. It was fun. It was thought-provoking. It was my home. It was YJ. When I looked out at everyone during shira shketa and Havdalah, the young faces of smiling eighth and ninth graders stared back with the same joy and enthusiasm I have had for 10 years. Though my YJ Teens journey is coming to a close after camp this summer, I know YJ is going to keep being YJ for generations to come. I am glad that I was able to experience this with everyone and I can’t wait for what the rest of this year, and years to come hold in store.