Two Years Later: The Pain, the Promise and the Power of Resilience

October 7, 2025, marked the second anniversary of the single deadliest day for Jews since the Holocaust.

Two years ago, Hamas terrorists massacred more than 1,200 innocent people in their homes, on their morning walks, at a music festival and as they fled for their lives.

Two hundred and fifty more were torn from their families and taken as hostages into the dark tunnels of Gaza — tunnels that, two years later, still hold men, women and children who have not seen the light of day.

Two years.
Two years of waiting, praying, aching.
Two years of the world looking away.

The spirit of the Jewish people will not die. We are strong. We are resilient. We remember.

But remembering means feeling the unbearable, seeing the images we cannot unsee, recalling the names we refuse to let fade and the faces of our brothers and sisters still in captivity. The pain of my people is my pain. The suffering of my people is my suffering.

And still, the nations of the world have too often stood by or condemned Israel for defending itself, for fighting to bring its people home, for daring to confront a terrorist regime that thrives on death and despair. How can the world see this and do nothing? How can silence be the global response to evil?

Indifference is rising. Hate is rising. It creeps into classrooms, boardrooms and city streets. It seeps into the pores of people who think they are immune. And if we do not pay attention, it will smack us right in the face.

It is our duty, our sacred responsibility as Jews to push back against hate. To fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. To remember that all human beings deserve to live free — free to think, to feel, to be all that God created them to be.

Today, I am fighting for my people to see the sun again.
Today, I am fighting to stop the flames of antisemitism from spreading through all humanity. Because hate, left unchecked, never stops with the Jews.

Every day I pray that tomorrow the sun will shine and all our hostages will be home.
Every day I pray that tomorrow I will wake to a gentler world.

When I look to Hadassah, the organization within which I proudly volunteer, I see a vision of that world.

At Hadassah’s two hospitals in Jerusalem, which comprise the Hadassah Medical Organization, patients and staff from every background — Jewish, Muslim, Christian, Israeli, Palestinian and more — work shoulder to shoulder.

Doctors, nurses and staff treat everyone with dignity, compassion and unconditional care. Witnessing these patients from diverse backgrounds heal together is proof that coexistence is not just possible, it is already happening.

Medicine becomes a bridge; care becomes a common language. If we can work together to save lives, we can learn to live together in peace.

This is the world I want to live in. What kind of world do you want to live in?

In honor of our hostages, please light a candle. Learn a name. Make a call. Give to healing.

Stacey 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. It’s where they celebrate their personal Hadassah journeys and share their Jewish values, family traditions and interpretations of Jewish texts. Hadassah members are proud of their Zionist mission and their role as keepers of the flame of Jewish values, traditions and beliefs as well as advocating for women’s empowerment and health equity for all. Since 2019, the Hadassah Writers’ Circle has published nearly 650 columns in The Times of Israel Blogs and other Jewish media outlets. Interested? Please contact hwc@hadassah.org.