And a Little Child Shall Lead Them

We are rounding the corner on the second half of 2025 and, still, there is no clarity, resolve, or peace in an anxious world.

In solidarity and in symbol, I sometimes wear the dog tag that demands that the hostages taken by Hamas come home now. I remember to ask for two nails to be coated in yellow polish in a once-in-a-while professional manicure — a gesture recognizing those Israeli women who are victims of sexual attack. Yet, while we pray for the hostages, victims and the whole house of Israel, it still feels, well, so out of my hands.

Then something changes. An unexpected inspiration. “…And a little child shall lead them.” (Isaiah 11:6-9).

But first, some back story.

I was with my husband, in our preferred pew: aisle seat, last row, front section of our temple. It was just shy of start time for Shabbat service, only this time it was to be one of the year’s best, fortified by the Hebrew high school graduation of four students.

There’s a slew of special services celebrating student milestones throughout the year — consecration, third grade alpha-bet completion, seventh grade moving up and 10^th grade confirmation.  But it was these four young people, like many before them, who eloquently reminisced of Sunday school, and Monday nights and Tuesday afternoons after secular school, even bar mitzvahs during the COVID pandemic.

It’s very different than other graduation ceremonies; like our religion it’s both challenging and poignant.

As anticipated, there are comforting similarities in this service each year, particularly each student’s prepared remarks and common themes: Jewish individuality with the ability to question Judaism and one’s faith and safe spaces to explore with others who understand the experience of a young Jew in suburban America today.

And although incredibly presented, it wasn’t the young adults’ remarks that fought for the most defining moment of the evening.

It was the simple words of a graduate’s dad, a guest at the podium, who reminded the graduates (and us all) how critical it is for young people to affirm their Jewish identity and values in this new world.

“Especially now,” he said.

Because our lives as Jews are officially split in two parts: before and after October 7.

I think about how these young people will need to stand up and stay strong. How going off to university and into the universe is not just about the promise of the future but a time to be counted for being Jewish. How I didn’t have to actively consider this at an earlier time in my college career, as I kept my faith personal. Much later, as a card-carrying adult with children, it was Hadassah that raised my Jewish consciousness of the world, with perspectives both here and in Israel.

So today it will not be as easy as it was a generation ago.  But these are not students of the same fiber as a generation ago. They have witnessed antisemitism in their hometowns. They have been shown how to advocate their position with their congressional representatives. They are filled with hope and exude an energy that shines from the pulpit. They are the definition of what they will need to lead.

And when that dad, in that matter-of-fact voice, said, “especially now,” I see the young leaders who stand at the ready: “If not now, when?”

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Lauren is a member of the Hadassah Writers’ Circle, a dynamic and diverse writing group for leaders and members to express their thoughts and feelings about all the things Hadassah does to make the world a better place, to celebrate their personal Hadassah journeys and to share their Jewish values, family traditions and interpretations of Jewish texts.  Since 2019, the Hadassah Writers’ Circle has published nearly 650 columns in the Times of Israel Blog and other Jewish media outlets. Interested? Please contact hwc@hadassah.org.