Partners on a Journey of Compassion, Craft & Hope

When I opened the whatsapp message from Dina, I had no idea what kind of warmth was about to enter my life – and the lives of my fellow evacuees from Nirm.
I’ve learned that saying “yes” to the unexpected can lead to deeply human, deeply healing moments. This is one of them.

Since October 7th, I’ve been sharing our story – the story of a small, strong community from the western Negev, walking the long road home after unimaginable loss. Along the way, we’ve encountered pain, but also compassion in the most unexpected forms. This is one such story – of warmth sewn into fabric, and of strangers who reached out with a hug from the heart in the form of thread and fabric.

A Quilt from the Heart – A Journey of Compassion, Craft, and Hope

Sometime in late October 2024, I received a WhatsApp message from a woman I didn’t know. Her name was Dina – the mother of a former colleague from my days as an instructor and activist with Google for Education.

Since the war began, Dina told me, she had been following my posts on Facebook – about the challenges we faced on October 7th and in the difficult days that followed, and about our journey, as a community, on the long road back home.

The message she sent came at the request of friends of hers, who also follow me on social media, and wanted to come for a visit. I immediately said “yes”  I have a personal motto: “Never say ‘no’ to invitations like these – you never know where they might lead.”

Dina and two friends came to visit me in my apartment in Be’er Sheva, to where I was still evacuated, along with my community at the time. At the end of the visit, she handed me a package and said:

“I made this gift for you – to bring comfort and joy after all you’ve been through on your way home.”

When I opened it, I found a beautiful, lovingly sewn quilt. A work of art, a labor of love, and behind it – a powerful story (which I’d be happy to share privately with anyone who wants to hear more).

Dina is a member of a group of women from central Israel who call themselves ACCENT QUILTERS – around 35 Israeli quilt-makers from the Sharon, Netanya, and Herzliya areas. Most are English speakers from diverse backgrounds, accents and countries of origin. The group has been meeting once a month for nearly three decades – to talk, to learn, and to create quilts together.

Over the years, ACCENT has completed many charitable quilting projects – for premature babies, children at risk, children with cancer, every bed in the lone soldier home “Beit Benji” in Ra’anana, at-risk teenage girls in group homes, and more.

At the start of the Swords of Iron war, with the support of the South African Zionist Federation and other donations of fabric and batting (the cotton filling of a quilt), they’ve created more than 190 unique quilts for wounded soldiers, evacuated civilians, and others in need of warmth and care.

When Dina shared our story with her group – the story of us, and of Kibbutz Nirim – they decided to adopt us as their next project. They called it “A Quilt from the Heart” and set out to create a symbolic quilted hug for every family from Nirim, as a gesture of solidarity and hope for a better future.

After receiving our blessing, the group set to work with passion and dedication – sewing away and seeking donations near and far (Israel, South Africa, USA, Canada) for quilt fabrics and batting. We were told that the project would take time to complete, but when the first 43 quilts were ready, a small group of representatives brought the first wrapped bundles with them on a visit to Nirim on Friday, May 9th. The few kibbutznicks who had returned home already at that time, welcomed them with open arms.

Yehuda shared the story of Nirim. They spoke about their inspiring work, and Aliza shared a few words about our own beloved cottage textile  industry, “Nirit Shay”. I gave them the talk I usually present to visiting groups – and also during my trips abroad – about the events of October 7th. The representative quilters, Tzvia, Terry, Carol and Dina described the process. We then took them on a walk through the kibbutz – showing them how a community rises from ashes and tears, and with resilience, builds something new: stronger, safer, more beautiful.

At that time we explained that when the day comes – and we KNEW it would come – for us to return home, our kibbutz would be ready to receive its people once again, renewed and rebuilt.

Since then, the quilting continues. The quilters also paid a special visit to our veteran members, who had been temporarily evacuated to a nursing home closer to them in the Sharon, to present their work, and tell their stories.

Stitch by stitch, color by color, heart to heart – these women are binding themselves to us with warmth and care. And we, wrapped in their symbolic embrace, continued on our road back home.

Seven months have passed since that first, deeply personal encounter between communities. Over the summer months, families of Kibbutz Nirim began returning home. Although we still hear artillery and the occasional explosion from the war raging just beyond the border, the laughter of children and the chirping of invasive parakeets now dominate the soundscape.

Today our kibbutz is alive with children on bikes, parents pushing strollers, our elderly walking the paths, and a community still engaged in the delicate art of bringing itself home. It is a process for which no handbook has ever been written, so we are inventing it as we go.

Throughout these months, a dedicated group of quilters from the center of the country has been volunteering and working tirelessly, with Sadie, their gigantic longarm quilting machine, humming for hours on end to fulfill their mission.

Yesterday, January 23rd, they came south bearing 121 more quilts, for a joyful gathering of mingling, storytelling, and exchanging love and support.  They came despite the fact that Terry, in whose home Sadie resides and occupies an entire room, has been dealing with serious medical issues and was scheduled for surgery the day before. Wheelchair-bound but fiercely determined, she stood firm with her doctors to postpone the procedure until Sunday because, as she put it, “there was an important event I need to attend.”

For a few precious hours, we were together again, sharing stories, laughter, and tears, as families of Nirim received these beautiful gifts of care and solidarity. Stories like this are the essence of Israel. This is my country. These are my people, and I am endlessly proud of them.

Our journeys are not yet complete. The wonderful quilters have more quilts in the making, more hugs from fabric and thread and filling which will be making their way to Nirim in future. Nirim’s journey is far from over, as well, because while 87 percent of us have returned, many still grapple with that option. Many challenges remain for us here on Nirim: emotional, physical, and psychological which is why we are so grateful for the support of good people in Israel, like this remarkable group of women, and of people around the world who show us every day, in countless ways, that they are here to walk with us, and support us on our journeys.

Am Yisrael Chai, whether YOU like it, or not!

And finally, heartfelt prayers and best wishes to Terry for a full and speedy recovery.