Healing Across Hemispheres: Israeli Teens Find Hope and Connection in Australia

Last week, a group of courageous Israeli teenagers from the Gaza envelope, each bearing the heavy reality of ongoing trauma, found themselves on the other side of the world, in Australia. They are survivors of a continuing war, their lives upended in ways no young person should ever experience. Our mission in bringing them here was simple, yet profound: to offer them a moment of peace, a chance to breathe freely and to show them that even thousands of kilometres away, they are seen, loved, and embraced by a community that stands with them. Yet this journey wasn’t just about a break from the turmoil; it was a reminder that hope and humanity stretch far beyond borders.

For 10 days, this group of 31 Israelis took over our lives. We planned over the preceding 3 months, a comprehensive program exposing them to the highlights of what Melbourne and Victoria has to offer. They saw koalas and fed kangaroos, hiked in a rural gorge and rode in an open-air jeep at Werribee zoo. They were passengers on the Puffing Billy steam train and rode a lift to the 88^th floor of the Eureka Tower to view the large expanse of Melbourne from all directions. They walked amongst the towering sculptures at Point Leo and tree surfed at Arthur’s Seat, visited the oldest shul in Australia and panned for gold at Sovereign Hill.

Yet when asked about what stood out for them, what really resonated, it was the connections forged with their host families and their peers when they visited Jewish day schools. It was the human connections and friendships formed that will have the lasting impact. Time and again, they marvelled at the depth of the welcome they received from our community. What began as a gathering of strangers quickly transformed into something deeper—a bond forged by shared moments, warmth and the quiet understanding that only comes from truly seeing one another.

Throughout the 10 days we heard their stories of terror and fear, survival and resilience. Of the family whose house was closest to the entrance of their kibbutz and was the first to be stormed by terrorists. With their 4 children, the youngest of whom was 6 years old, they were compelled to remain completely silent in their safe room for 14 hours. The father held their safe room door handle firm, hearing the terrorists destroy their furniture and belongings whilst simultaneously enjoying a meal from their provisions. Originally from Nir Oz, he bears the heightened trauma of knowing intimately many of the murdered and kidnapped. Of the family who serendipitously had shabbat with their extended family in Tel Aviv on October 6 and decided to stay the night being too tired to drive back. But the father had remained at the kibbutz due to work commitments and the phone calls and texts throughout October 7 were harrowing, not knowing if he would survive. Of the teenagers repeated frantic calls and texts to their friends throughout the day, checking in on each other, silence at times being the terrifying response.

One teenager talked of being in his saferoom alone with his younger sister, his mother away on shift work. Upon opening his group chat and viewing the brutal videos of what was happening, he believed he was going to die. He recognized he was 16 years old and hadn’t seen or done anything substantial yet. He quickly understood he was responsible for his sister and to survive, he needed to switch off his emotions and muster the courage to keep her safe. He readied his sister to send a message to the police if the terrorists invaded their house. After 14 hours without food or water, he decided to exit, leaving strict instructions with his sister not to open the door to anyone unless she heard his voice. Eventually, the IDF secured them. He recalled his friends on Kibbutz Beeri who were kidnapped and murdered. He says he’s now in a better place and tries not to allow the experience to overwhelm him.

Another teen talked of receiving ongoing WhatApp messages and understanding the direction the terrorists were heading in. Given their trajectory, their house would be next. He heard Arabic being spoken nearby. He and his mother practiced how they would hold the safe room door if terrorists tried to open it. He heard them in their house. He heard footsteps approaching the shelter door. He and his mother communicated with head nods. They both held the door the way they had practiced and started to feel resistance on the other side. The tension continued for what seemed like hours. Finally, they gave up and proceeded to destroy their home. At 3pm they heard scratches against the door. They believed the terrorists had returned and were trying to saw open the door. His mother gave them a 50/50 chance of survival. He held a knife which he knew would be useless against their weapons. Fortunately, it was the IDF with their rescue dogs. They were told to pack a few things and go to the kindergarten, a space for 30 where 120 had gathered to sleep, 2 bathrooms and no food. The next day they were evacuated to Eilat and then to a nearby kibbutz hotel where they spent the next few months. They have only returned home in the last few weeks.

The group spoke of the impact of October 7 and its aftermath. Faced with ongoing tragedy, they were forced to grow up. They learned that life can change in an instant and waking up each morning feels like a gift. They are grateful for what they have and for the family that survived. They have become braver, more independent and more sensitive to the world around them. They are more cautious now, more thoughtful and, at times, carry the weight of sadness in ways they never expected. And yet, with maturity comes resilience. They’ve learned to embrace permission to feel—to truly express themselves, to confront the sadness and depression when it comes, while also recognizing the deep connections they now hold closer with their families. In the midst of such darkness, they have found a way to be both strong and vulnerable, knowing that survival often requires both.

What they may not realize is the tremendous impact they’ve had on us. Their resilience, courage, and openness have brought hope and healing to our community in ways we never expected, reminding us that compassion flows in both directions. And none of this would have been possible without the generosity of our donors and the tireless efforts of volunteers. It took a village to make this journey a reality, and together, we’ve been deeply transformed.