Joan and I were very fortunate to join the Orangetown Jewish Center volunteer trip to Israel that left this past Sunday afternoon, led by Rabbi Craig Scheff. It was a last minute decision after Rabbi Ami Hersh invited us and my colleagues at school encouraged me to go. 

 

We arrived in Israel around 6 am this morning (Monday). Two things were immediately obvious. The airport was quieter than usual and as soon as we were in the airport we saw signs for shelters everywhere and more profoundly, the ramp leading to customs control was lined with the pictures of all of the innocent people being held hostage. We were in Israel like I had never experienced. 

 

Our job for the day was to work on a strawberry farm northeast of Tel Aviv, organized by HaShomer HaChadash. Before we arrived, we stopped for breakfast at a café and event venue. We sat outside, surrounded by beauty and good food. The staff was so excited to see us. They were so thankful that we came. Emotions ran high. It reminded me of the Israeli parents who have joined us at school - the same sense of profound gratitude and emotion. Our Israeli family is learning they are not alone. We are one people watching out for each other. 

 

Two of the people who run the tour company responsible for our trip spoke to us. Their message was one of solidarity and appreciation. They wanted us to understand that what is going on in Israel is different this time and that no Israeli has been spared. They spoke about how important it is that we are here and not just to visit, but to work. Apparently we are one of the first groups to do this. They could not stress enough how important it is to them that we and others are coming during an active conflict. In the past people have come after conflicts have ended. Our presence in the midst of a war sends a profound message of solidarity and support. Finally, they spoke of the strength of the Israeli people and the certainty that Israel will prevail. He shared that the country is still functioning because civilians have taken it upon themselves to ensure this. They shared that this was necessary because, as they and many Israelis see it, the government is dysfunctional and chaotic. After listening to them speak and witnessing the emotions of the other staff, it was clear to the members of our group that we are in the right place, doing the right thing, at the right time. 

 

When we arrived at the farm, the task was to weed the strawberry fields - rows and long rows of them. We literally weeded the strawberry fields for almost 5 hours in the hot sun. It was necessary work because there are essentially no workers to do this. Foreign workers have left the country and there are not enough people available. These strawberries will be needed for food and we felt good about helping. It gave a new meaning to “working the land”. 

 

With night upon us in Israel, we had dinner with two survivors from Kibbutz Nahal Oz. It was not lost on me that as we bring in Rosh Chodesh Kislev and prepare to celebrate Hanukkah, we are reminded that once again innocent people were slaughtered for simply being Jews. Right now it does feel that in every generation an enemy rises against us and tries to destroy us. 

 

Amir and his wife, Einav spoke to us. Amir grew up on that kibbutz and spoke about being the generation that grew up under constant missile attacks. He spoke about the trauma so many of his peers have. He and Einav went to the kibbutz Friday evening, October 6, on their way to a vacation. His mother was away, but his sister was there. 

 

They woke to the sounds of sirens and went to the safe room. Soon they knew something was different. The barrage of missiles was not stopping and they started to hear gunfire. Forty-five minutes later they knew something was terribly wrong. The gunfire was getting closer to their house and the sounds of the fight were different from any other attack. They were getting some news about what was going on but it was unclear. They had no food, water, or weapons. 

 

This went on for many hours. Because safe rooms don’t lock, Amir ended up holding the door shut for over eight hours while holding a knife he found in the room in his other hand. Soon the fighting sounded like it was right outside their home. By mid-afternoon it stopped and they could hear Hebrew outside the door. As Amir said, they were totally stressed and he was frustrated because he had no weapon and could not protect his sister or wife. 

 

There was a knock at the door and Hebrew spoken. They were reluctant to open. Then a soldier recited the Shema with a “perfect” accent, so Amir knew it was the IDF. They told Amir, Einav, and his sister what was happening and that fighting was still occurring. They were told to stay in the safe room. Their ordeal ended 18 hours later. They were safe and unharmed. The IDF came back and took them out. They were lucky. Amir says the kibbutz was relatively lucky, as others fared much worse. 

 

Amir is still hopeful. While he said he’ll never be without his gun again, nor is he sure he would bring his future children to Nahal Oz to visit his parents unless things are very different - someday, he still thinks peace can happen. He said his kibbutz was a kibbutz of peace. His mother worked with Palestinians in the hope of establishing tourism one day between Gaza and Israel. 

 

As harrowing as their experience was, they have hope. Hope still lives.