Unbreakable

As a kid, December had always been the month everyone was waiting for. Christmas, with its decorations, lights, and the national spirit. I used to wander around in awe, with one thought in mind:

I don’t want this to be over. 

Not that I felt the need to be part of something that I didn’t belong to, nor that I ever missed the gifts or the tree, but I longed for that festive atmosphere in the streets. I enjoyed the colors, the festive spirit, and that foreign yet familiar idea that Christmas is that day of the year when everyone is happy. 

Two years ago, just a couple of months after October 7th, my perspective shifted forever. At the time, while I was temporarily staying in Italy with my family, Christmas, with its lights and songs, became distant and unrelatable. A holiday that no longer spoke to me, but rather burdened me with a cruel reality. There I was, surrounded by alien celebrations I was not part of, feeling an odd dissonance in my heart, while still grieving the horrors of October 7th. 

This year, making my way through the crowded streets of Jerusalem, I found myself mesmerized. Amid the constant honking around the Shuk Mahane Yehuda, I took a moment for myself to fully grasp the atmosphere I was in. Sukkot in the making, dates, figs, and pomegranates for sale. Decorations, new colors, scents, and most importantly, a feeling of familiarity that Christmas never gave me. Even though I had never spent the Hagim in Israel before, the traditions felt natural to me, as the heritage of religious practices that was rooted in my Jewish upbringing had suddenly become part of the national customs. And there I found myself, once again, thinking:

I don’t want this to be over. 

I cannot deny the tears I have shed in the past days, when the burden of being away from my dear family was too heavy to carry. However, I was rejoiced to see the People of Israel coming together to share the beauty of the holidays. While Israelis may not be known for their etiquette or tact, nexcel at something more meaningful: saying Hag Sameach with genuine warmth, whether it is to a family member, a friend, or even a stranger in the street. 

As the holidays are coming to an end, and Simcha Torah is now approaching, I feel grateful to be witnessing the collective relief that Israelis and Jews from all around the world are sharing. After exactly two years of the Hebrew calendar, the hostages are finally coming home. For the first time since that terrible day, joy feels whole again, as a living reminder and testimony that our resilience is unbreakable. And while experiencing this emotional high, I couldn’t be more grateful to be part of the Jewish people, and I cannot help but think:

This will never be over. 

Hag Sameach 😉