Not My Grandmother’s World: We Can Impact History

My mother once shared a memory of her mother silently weeping at the kitchen table, as she read stories in the Yiddish newspapers presaging the Holocaust and, later, accounting the destruction of most of European Jewry.

My mother Sylvia and my grandmother Rebecca are both gone. But this image haunts me still.

Rebecca was an uneducated Romanian immigrant.  Like others of her generation, she had no real way to understand world events or influence the devastating course of history. We live in different times. Our words and deeds can impact the future.

I didn’t get to know my grandmother, so I can only imagine that she, along with so many others, put hard-earned coins into a Jewish National Fund “blue box”, with the dream and fervent hope that Jews would one day return to their ancestral homeland. That vision became a reality in 1948, when the state of Israel was officially declared.

I’m an American through-and-through, with the stars and stripes waving proudly on my front porch. My forebears all came to the U.S. (from Romania and Russia) between 1880 and 1902. Yet, as a diaspora Jew, my heart, soul and DNA are deeply and inextricably intertwined with the land and people of Israel; I’ve visited multiple times.

After the October 7 Hamas atrocities, I felt an ineffable need, strangely akin to what a parent feels for a seriously ill child, or an adult child for an ailing parent, to make things better. Like many others, I donated money, raised funds, wrote letters and made calls to legislators. But I felt helpless. I knew I had to return to Israel during its time of need.

My husband and I came in March 2024 on two Jewish National Fund-USA (JNF) volunteer missions. We picked crops, cooked for soldiers, bore witness at sites of Hamas massacres, met with hostage families and more. It was powerful, inspiring and heartbreaking.

This year, amidst Israel’s ongoing war and trauma, I did some soul-searching. Was I really ready for another emotional rollercoaster in Israel? My heart won. We went back to Israel in mid-May.

We spent a day in the north of Israel, mostly with Nisan Zeevi, a dynamic JNF-affiliated Israeli leader. Starting at the Misgav Am overlook, on the border between Israel and Lebanon, we were briefed about the military situation and great economic and social devastation caused by evacuating the North’s population.  We got a bird’s eye view of Hezbollah’s former dwellings, next door to a UN fort, from which rockets and missiles were launched. And, at one point, we felt close enough to almost touch Israeli tanks vigilantly guarding the border.

Our jam-packed day included visits to JNF initiatives:  the Kiryat Shmona Medical Center, the Galilee Culinary Institute, and the regional elementary school where a new playground and athletic facilities are planned.  It was thrilling to see the building progress (maintained throughout the war) and children joyfully playing outside.

Nisan conveyed the importance of the new infrastructures. They are not just buildings; they’re powerful symbols of trust and hope, critical to the return of northern Israel’s residents.

The day ended with heroic firefighters at Kiryat Shmona’s Regional Fire and Rescue Station. They spoke emotionally about dodging Hezbollah missiles while battling horrendous Hezbollah-set fires for many months, using life-saving fire trucks and equipment provided by JNF donors.

The day gave us a taste of reality.

We next joined a several-day “Mossad Mission” sponsored by Shurat HaDin, an Israeli legal NGO that initiates lawsuits to combat terrorism, BDS and antisemitism. Our 60-person group included Jews and non-Jews from far and wide: New Zealand; Australia; Switzerland; Luxembourg; the Netherlands; Italy; Canada; and the U.S.

One fellow traveler, a 74-year-old retired neurosurgeon, had been on nine volunteer trips to Israel since October 7.

It was an incredible experience. We learned from former Mossad agents and military experts, visited the Shura Camp to hear about the  sacred ritual and respect given every casualty of October 7’s massacre and subsequent war, and met with  the IDF’s social media spokesperson.

An in-depth tour of the Kalandia Checkpoint, a moving visit with the Druze community at Magdal Shames’ soccer field where 12 children were killed by a Hezbollah missile, and driving ATVs along the Syrian border added to the extraordinary mission. (For more detail, see a Shurat HaDin itinerary.)

On a lighter note, we dined at Haifa’s German Colony, toured Megiddo and Caesarea, took a moonlight boat cruise on the Sea of Galilee and spent time at Israel’s beautiful beaches.

I left on May 30th with an even better understanding of Israel’s many complexities and its perilous existence surrounded by hostile countries and terrorists.

I also left with even more admiration for the Israeli people, who have protected our shared homeland throughout these many months of unrelenting emergency, crisis, grief and anxiety.

We are living history in a way that my grandmother could never have imagined.  It’s not always pretty.

Antisemitism is exploding. The media spew vile, outright lies and misinformation 24/7. A clock in the center of Tehran counts down the days until Israel’s destruction. Malevolent anti-Israel groups abound and on-campus pro-Hamas mobs turn violent.

As I write this, Israeli’s civilian population is being bombarded by lethal Iranian missiles in response to Israel’s milchemet mitzvah (obligatory war) to protect Israel (and the rest of the world) from Iran’s nuclear ambitions and promises to annihilate Israel.

It is incomprehensively horrible and overwhelming. But while It’s tempting to binge-watch Netflix series to block it all out, we can’t give up or give in. Israelis must be resilient. So must we.

In the words of Major Liad Diamond, Head of IDF Public Diplomacy, we “are part of the Israeli heartbeat.” Israel needs us.

My grandmother couldn’t influence world events. We have the privilege and ability to do so.

Donate to reputable organizations that support Israel on the ground and those that advocate for the Jewish people and Israel, to influence U.S. elections and legislation. Get involved at a deeper level: on boards and committees and in fund-raising.

Rely on trustworthy sources to counter hatred and ignorance with fact and reason. Speak out for Israel on social media and in Jewish and non-Jewish publications. Tell your children and grandchildren about Israel. Incorporate Israel into your daily life by talking to people you know and don’t know about Israel.

Write to government officials (federal and local) about Israel issues. (It is often a “numbers game,” where quantity makes a difference.) Support pro-Israel political candidates with your money and time. Support legal entities that bring lawsuits to counter anti-Israel actions.

Join a pro-Israel writing group. (I participate in one that sends large numbers of powerful letters regarding Israel, and related issues, to government entities, businesses, universities and many others; the group has had great successes.)

Buy Israeli products on-line and in your local grocery to help support the country’s economy.

Be proud. Know that your words and deeds are heard and deeply felt by Israelis who are battling for Israel’s existence for all of us – Jews and non-Jews.

Once Israel opens up again, and it will, go on a meaningful mission. Or, for a more traditional vacation, go to experience ancient history, one-of-a-kind museums, beautiful beaches, culinary delights and everything else that is Israel. Tourism has been severely impacted during this difficult time. Your presence provides greatly needed moral and economic support.

Israel’s war (and our war) is now at a pivotal point, with unprecedented danger, destruction and challenges.

All who love Israel must do what we can to ensure that Israel will be a force for good and a light unto the nations for many, many generations to come.  It’s time for us all to be “rising lions.”

Am Yisrael Chai.