Reflections on a JNF-USA volunteer trip in Israel - doing something tangible to help Israelis

Sitting in my comfortable environment in the United States, sharing discussions and expressions of upsets over what was happening in Israel left me with a deep pit of helplessness that could not be abated by writing a donation check or attending speakers. Israelis needed to know my unapologetic support, needed to know that we're not looking the other way, needed to see that we're here on their soil, needed to feel our hugs, and know that they're not abandoned or alone. 

I'm a first generation American. My mother survived the horrors of the Holocaust. My husband's cousin survived the horrors of the Holocaust. My great aunt and her fiancé were murdered on their wedding day in a violent Russian pogrom. Generations of Jewish people made to suffer horrific abuses simply because we're a minority. Oct. 7 was a jarring wake-up call and a call to action for Jewish people and all people who cherish western modern civilization.   

My discomfort and fear are what Hamas' terrorists and terrorist supporters wanted as reaction. They want us to cower in fear and capitulate.

Going to Israel was my first working volunteer mission with JNF-USA and my first time traveling internationally alone. Like many, I struggle with the fear of flying, fear of the unknown, fear of going to a country in an active war. Each thought I countered with the sacrifices each generation before me had made. Each thought I countered with the commitment that terrorists can never win. I couldn't live in fear and avoidance. I want my children and future generations to know that I faced my fear and did what was right when it mattered most to our family, to Israel, to Jewish people, and to messaging to the civilized world. 

The mission's itinerary put us to work the first day in the agricultural fields. Farm workers left after Oct. 7 because Hamas had murdered non-Israeli farm workers too. The crops would rot if not harvested. The population losing precious foods. Our group picked over seven tons of lemons at Moshav Shokeda. It was an honor to spend the day playing my part with other JNF volunteers to help. We next spent time boxing care packages for IDF soldiers. We closed out the day by going to Re'im, the site of the Nova Music Festival. Indescribable. It was incredibly difficult standing next to mourners, walking on a ground that felt fresh with victims' blood and loss of life, seeing pictures of these beautiful once vibrant joyful young adults. Being physically present was an overwhelming difficult experience. A part of me felt that it was disrespectful to walk sacred ground, another part understood the importance of bearing witness, to pay my respects, to never forget each precious life lost and sharing their stories. Being physically present, it was shockingly painfully clear the thin, widely spaced tree lines where the festival took place offered no protection and no hiding places. The terrorists ambushed these innocent music festival goers, young people celebrating unity. Kids my own kids' ages had their lives ripped from them simply because they are a minority. Haunting softly sung memorial prayers floated to my ears. My tears flowed unabashedly as I labored to take forward steps amidst the memorials. An indescribable juxtaposed experience going from celebrating the harvesting earlier in the day to the somber heart wrenching memorial site of the beautiful young people who achieved their eternity in a single hour, whose sacrifice will be honored by the complete victory of the Jewish people in its quest to proclaim liberty throughout the civilized world's inhabitants.

Our second day, the 130th day of the War, had us doing weeding and painting work at Kibbutz G'vulot in the Eshkol region. It was an honor to be present as they opened a school for the first time since Oct. 7, taking in students from the whole region. Seeing 230 evacuated students' joy-filled faces returning to school was very moving, especially amidst all the trauma the people of Israel are suffering. We met with locals and heard heartbreaking stories of loss juxtaposed with strength and grace. We drove through Be'er Sheva river park. We went to Soroka Hospital, a level-one trauma center, and heard the brilliant, humble Dr. Perry speak about their incredible physicians and team and how every 39 seconds a badly injured person received treatment in Soroka's trauma center. He explained, every person that went to surgery survived. We then visited A-Team, which hosts 30,000 IDF soldiers daily, providing delicious meals in a welcoming supportive environment. It was an honor to give out the care packages we made to IDF soldiers and share conversations and hugs during our stay at A-Team. We had the privilege of hearing Special Uniform's band sing, a highly trained squad of elite soldiers that's entirely made up of disabled and autistic teens. A Jewish National Fund-USA program that integrates young adults with disabilities into the Israel Defense Forces and, in turn, into Israeli society. We danced and sang along with their melodious songs and shared beautiful heartfelt moments with the IDF soldiers that stopped by A-Team during our visit. Amazingly moving experiences.

Our third day, Day 131 of the War, had us driving to Julis in the North, 5km from the border where we learned Hezbollah had killed 2 IDF soldiers and a woman by drone explosives this same day. We heard the story of Basma, a Druze restaurant owner, whose IDF husband got injured and was in a coma for 13 years and their son serving in the IDF. The week the war broke out Basma, a single parent, cooked 400 meals for her late husband's IDF unit. She learned not all the soldiers could eat her meals because they keep kosher, so she converted her entire restaurant to Kosher and continues to cook around 1k daily meals for IDF soldiers to enjoy. Together we volunteers cooked and prepared 400 care packages for IDF soldiers fighting to protect Israel. In the background, sounds of active war hauntingly real. All I could think of were the innocent Israelis, many my own children's ages, proudly fighting to protect western modern civilization, Israeli people, Israel, and the rights of minority group/Jewish people. 

We learned that the local Arab community supports Israeli and stands behind Israel because they have personally seen Hamas turn against their own (murder their own, rape their own, murder disabled, murder gays). Local Arabs have seen the true evil face of Hamas. 

On the fourth day, we visited The Hostages and Missing Square, Tel Aviv, Southern Part of New North. An installation by the artist Roni Levevi, The Tunnel, stimulates the horrific reality in which our hostages were thrown. Walking down inside its low ceiling, narrow dark depth, my stilted footfalls met eerie silence, gray concrete walls, peppered photos of smiling hostages, innocent young adults that went to a music festival celebrating peace. Exiting The Tunnel, a rainy overcast day, melancholy mournful piano music carried with the wind to our ears. Somber poignant artwork in deep hues, of ghostly figures, infants, blood-stained abandoned crib, a young child assailed by sharp teeth monsters, a toddler near a birthday cake, fenced-in imprisoned people and birds. A giant heart bound in chains by the artist Kfir Cohen, "One giant heart, in chains, tightly bound. Almost suffocated, it weeps with sorrow. Aching deep, Yet it beats. Bravely beats." "It will not be unchained until every single one of the hostages comes back home." Bring Them Home Now.

We planted a tree at Ben Shemen. Early on, we were each given a card with the name and photo of a victim to research and, if amenable, honor their memory when we planted our tree. The person on my card was Faiza Abu Sabieh, an innocent 57-year-old Muslim grandmother from the Bedouin community. Faiza and her 13-year-old granddaughter were murdered by a direct Hamas rocket strike on her home. I respectfully said their story as I pulled the earth forward and around to nourish the sapling planted in their names for generations to come.

"They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, later, when somebody says your name on Earth for the last time." Banksy. While we cannot prevent the first death, we can each prevent the second. May each of us find time to ensure that the victims of the Nova Music Festivals names and stories will always be whispered about, even for generations to come. We may not have known the Israeli victims, but they are not strangers.

"There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met." - William Butler Yeats.

 We went to Ammunition Hill and Remembrance Hall. Two of the JNF volunteer participants unveiled a plaque in honor of a family member, one had served in combat in WW2, part of a spearhead tank group that helped free a concentration camp. Incredibly moving. 

In the Old City of Jerusalem we visited the most significant historical landmark, the Kotel, the Wall. I stood in solidarity with countless others leaning forward, touching our foreheads to the stones, silently deeply praying, tears falling. We had the rare privilege of witnessing an honorary passage of IDF soldiers graduating to their next phase of training. Their singing, dancing, and joy embraced us.

We had a short visit to the Machne Yehuda, a vibrant marketplace in Jerusalem. The importance of supporting the Israeli economy became apparent. In response to my purchases, the store owners thanked us profusely and unexpectedly broke out singing and dancing with gratitude. 

Our mission ended with a dinner at Nefesh Be'Nefesh where we learned of their nonprofit organization, which promotes, encourages, and facilitates Aliyah from the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom. We learned of their Relief for Olim in distress, support for our Lone Soldiers and their families, and recruitment and coordination of volunteer physicians to bolster Israel's national health care system. 

I arrived in Israel to participate in a mission and left Israel having experienced something greater than words can attest or describe. The Israeli people were so deeply grateful that we left the comfort of our communities to come to Israel, to show unapologetic support and love for them. Every day we received unsolicited expressions of gratitude, appreciation, and love. We shared hugs, tears, and genuine affection and respect for one another. Their people were brutalized but the Israeli people's spirit remains strong, robust, and forward-sighted. Israel will win the war against Hamas. Extremist Islam is lethal to all westernized modern civilization. I am proud of myself for doing something tangible to help Israeli people and Israel. As W. Clement Stone said, "Thinking will not overcome fear, but action will."

Throughout this working mission, I felt proud to be in attendance, to be contributing in a tangible way, to not allow my fear to dictate my behaviors. "The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear." - Nelson Mandela.