The Privilege and The Pain of Living in Israel

IDF paratrooper Menachem dressed as a medical clown, ready to make other patients smile and laugh as a volunteer at Hadassah Hospital Mount Scopus. Menachem believes that his life is a present. He has decided to work towards his goals, honor the memory of his friends who were killed on October 7th, and bring joy and happiness to others. Photo courtesy of the author.

When our family of four, my husband, Eric, myself, and our two boys, Aaron and Adam, decided to make aliyah in 2000, my students at the Jewish day school asked me, “Why”? I had been teaching both Jewish studies and secular studies for over 17 years and I responded, “I have been teaching you Jewish history for the past number of years, now, it is time to make Jewish history.”

We moved to Efrat, in Gush Etzion, south of Jerusalem, and one month later the Intifada broke out. Buses were blowing up and people were being shot at on our roads. We were about to purchase a home and my husband and I, after a brief discussion, decided that we would “hitch our wagon” to the Jewish state of Israel. The time had come to commit.

Our kllita (absorption) in the country was fairly smooth. I began teaching English as a second language, my husband worked for a hi-tech company and our children went to the local schools.

At first, learning the language was a struggle, but for the most part we were able to cope as there are several English-speaking families in Efrat.

Who could imagine that we would live through so many historic moments in the Jewish state?

Since 2000 we have experienced, the Intifada, the expulsion of Jewish communities from Gush Katif in 2005, the threat of Iraq sending missiles with poisonous gas in 2010 (last month cleaning out the “safe room” I found the instructions, in English, for putting on the gas masks), and the  October 7 massacre, when over 3,000 Hamas broke through the border fence in Gaza to brutally murder over 1200 Israelis and foreign workers, kidnap 251 people and rape and torture anyone that they could find on their rampage.

How do we live with all this pain, and this is only over the last 24 years? To answer this question, you must comprehend what an unprecedented privilege it is for Jews to live in this country, after 2000 years of praying and dreaming to return to our homeland.

To help you to understand this privilege, I hope to bring you the stories of the people of Israel. They are the heroes of our time, the everyday people who continue to do their jobs, despite the threat of annihilation, and the Israeli population that never turns down an opportunity to help one another.

In addition to teaching English in a Yeshiva high school, I volunteer at Hadassah Hospital Mount Scopus, in Jerusalem. One of my “jobs” is to work with soldiers in rehabilitation who want to improve their English skills. Working with “Menachem,” a soldier wounded on October seventh, is one of the highlights of my week.

Menachem was born in Israel and lives in Jerusalem. In high school he majored in a subject called Eretz Yisrael, which literally means, “the Land of Israel.” It includes learning everything about the land, through hiking trips, and studying the history as well as geography of the country.

Menachem joined the paratrooper unit in the IDF, Israel’s army. He loves to jump out of airplanes. The week before he was inducted, his father turned 60 and he surprised him by taking him to a place in the North where they could skydive. They both had an amazing time!

Menachem spent several minutes in English, Hebrew, and mime, explaining to me the differences between parachuting out of an army airplane and skydiving, neither of which I expect to experience in this lifetime!

On the weekend of October 7, Menachem, 23, was at his army base with his team. They were all part of a course for training to become captains in the paratrooper unit. It was a “closed Shabbat,” meaning that they stayed on base rather than going on leave.

That morning, they were all awakened and told to get ready to move out. At first, he thought that they were going on a training exercise. When they all boarded the bus and headed for Gaza, they understood that there had been an infiltration.

Menachem told me that a large infiltration into a community consists of about 12 terrorists. Their team was sent to Kibbutz Kissufim in the Gaza envelope. “It was mayhem,” Menachem said. Hundreds of terrorists, shooting, maiming, kidnapping. They were able to stop one of the terrorist’s cars that was driving off with kidnapped people. There was a woman in the trunk yelling for help. They managed to get her out and take her to a sheltered area.

Menachem told me they tried to calm her down, but she would not stop shaking. It became apparent from talking with her and seeing what was happening all around them, that there were many communities that were under attack. That day, they saved many people, but Menachem lost several of his friends in the battle.

Menachem was shot in the arm. The bullet shattered his arm and some of the shrapnel entered his lung. He was driven by ambulance to a hospital in the South which was overwhelmed with wounded soldiers and victims.

“I was one of the lucky ones,” says Menachem. “A doctor there told them to take me to Hadassah Hospital Ein Kerem in Jerusalem, and there was an ambulance driver available. I spent a month there and underwent an eight-hour surgery in which Dr. Carmeli and his team saved my arm. They took veins and nerves from my leg and put them and a large metal plate in my arm. I needed to undergo a second surgery to remove the large plate and substitute it for a smaller plate that is currently in my arm.”

Menachem was then sent to Hadassah Hospital Mount Scopus for rehabilitation. The Gandel Rehabilitation Center was not open yet, and he and other soldiers were sent to the main building. When the former rehabilitation center became too crowded the soldiers were moved to the maternity ward. “That was not easy,” said Menachem. “We were four soldiers to a room without a bathroom.”

The Gandel Rehabilitation Center
The opening of the Gendel Rehabilitation Center in January 2024 was a blessing for our soldiers. “I love it here!” exclaimed Menachem. “The people who work here; physiotherapists, occupational therapists, psychologists, acupuncturists, social workers, and hydro therapists are all professional, warm, embracing and loving. The food is also incredibly good,” he adds.

As part of his rehabilitation, Menachem trained for a triathlon. When he made it to the finish line, he held a banner with the paratroopers’ symbol and the pictures of five of his friends he lost in the fighting on October 7: “Lavi Bochnik, Bar Yakolov, Regev Amar, Adam Agmon, and Omri Peretz. They are very dear to me”, recalled Menachem. “I want to continue their legacy and to remember them. Menachem is currently taking a course on medical clowning. He enjoys making people smile.

When asked if there is anything more, he would like to say about his experience in the Gandel Rehabilitation Center, he adds, “They help you to build your life again here, from zero.” After he answered, I saw him waving for the third time to someone in the lunchroom where we meet every week. “Everyone loves you at the Gandel Rehabilitation Center, Menachem,” I said. “I love everyone here!” he answered with a great big smile on his face.

Karen 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 450 columns in the Times of Israel Blog and other Jewish media outlets. Interested? Please contact hwc@hadassah.org.