Helping Is Our National Coping Mechanism

Last month I was running in the park when a missile alert went off. I heard the siren in my headphones and pulled them out to hear it around me as well. A large bridge was a few hundred meters away and I sprinted to safety. About 30 more people gathered under the bridge. Drivers who left their cars above, pedestrians and others like me enjoying the park. A tall man, about 25, wearing a kippah started to pray loudly and as the minutes ticked by, he prayed louder and louder until he was nearly screaming the words. 

I looked around me, at the other people under the bridge of all backgrounds and ages, looking back at the praying man. I don’t know what he or the others have seen, experienced, or lost since October 7th. But I saw so much compassion in their faces. When ten minutes passed and it was time to move on, a few men approached, put their hands on his shoulders, and thanked him for praying for all of us.

We are stressed.
The number of people – primarily young people between 18-35 – reaching out about anxiety and trauma to a major hotline has risen 950% since the war started. 

We put on a brave face, try to make good lives for ourselves and our families, and go about our routines, but we are heartbroken. No Simcha starts without a mention of the hostages or the people we lost. I went to a Brit Mila so grateful that a healthy baby was born following a high-risk pregnancy. The father cried as he named the baby after his close friend who had died in Gaza. A young man near me quietly said this was the third time he had a Brit, a Shiva call, and a wedding on the same day.

Before the war, many television programs analyzing the Yom Kippur War were broadcast marking its 50th anniversary. As one played in the background, my father-in-law shared a memory of watching soldiers entering a lake to cool off in a break from the fighting near the Suez, not realizing that the water bed had been mined. He recalled the carnage that followed.

This terrible thing. This terrible moment lives on in his head, even fifty years later. I shudder when I think of what my children have seen. What so many people can’t unsee. What terrible things will live on in their minds for decades to come.

Healing takes time.
Over a year ago I wrote that we need to brace ourselves and pace ourselves because it will take a long time to heal from October 7th and this war. Since then, the war has dragged on, with an endless roller coaster of hopeful news only to be negated, along with a steady stream of reported casualties, delaying the start of healing for so many. 

So we do what we can. But any person in Israel who needed assistance before the war was pushed that much closer to the edge on October 7th. 

I am the co-founder and Chair of Jeremy’s Circle, an Israeli registered nonprofit supporting children and teens growing up with cancer or cancer loss in their immediate families. We throw family fun days and teen events so these kids can let loose, have fun, and connect with others who understand them, without having to explain. We do not require any effort by the parents for their children to participate, covering all the costs and providing transportation, food and drink, and supervision. 

However, we needed to be flexible when this new crisis hit our community of already vulnerable families so we could best help them.

At the start of the war, we created special resources for parents to help them help their kids cope, learn, and play. We reached out to our families who were displaced from the South and the North, some leaving their homes without shoes let alone medical files, and helped facilitate getting the services they needed. And new shoes. And McDonald’s. 

A donor told me that I should let him know if he could help any of our families who were hurt financially by the war. A mom called me and said her husband hasn’t worked since Oct 7th and she couldn’t even pull 100 NIS from the ATM. The donor transferred money to her account anonymously within 48 hours. We created a system for vetting requests, and he donated to nine more Jeremy’s Circle families in financial need. 

When another donor shared her concerns for teens displaced by the war, we worked with her to produce 15 teen events over the summer that she fully sponsored, drawing from our experience running the Jeremy’s Circle teen program. Parents called to say how getting their teens out of the hotels and onto surfboards and jeep tours was vital for them.

And it’s not just our donors who have stepped up. Our volunteer numbers have surged, especially among seniors.

As if helping is our national coping mechanism, scores of Israelis continue to show up each day, giving their sweat, time, and money, fueling the community-based resilience building we need so much.

image generated with ideogram.ai

Of course, it is not just in Israel. We watch with horror what’s happening on college campuses in the United States and at demonstrations around the world. We know the Jewish Community abroad has its own trauma and its own war on antisemitism. We see the solidarity, online advocacy, and visits to Israel to volunteer. Together we are one community, building resilience together.

A few weeks ago, I attended an “unconference” hosted by the Good People Fund. I heard the stories of dozens of charity founders who saw unmet needs and devoted themselves to filling those gaps—helping the unhoused, hungry, those living with trauma, and more. Surrounded by these good people, doing good things to make us all stronger, I felt energized and hopeful again for the first time in a long while.

Helping is healing.  Doing good for one another, and recognizing the good others do, fills us with love and builds resilience. When we step up for each other, we strengthen ourselves and our communities, enabling us to heal and move forward together. Am Yisrael Chai.

(This post is adapted from a talk given at Temple Aliyah in Needham, MA on November 30, 2024)