How can one look back on the past year without acknowledging that the horror and the challenge that our country did not choose to undertake is approaching one year?! But I digress.
I made aliyah just over 40 years ago and until recently could easily state that although I knowingly made a decision to live in a place with more challenges and fewer conveniences than I had in the States, I knew that I was also joining what was (and remains) the most important project undertaken by the Jewish people in nearly 2,000 years. Being here has meaning. I knew it then; I know it now. But over the years, life here became better. I often reflected that Israel was little by little becoming a place of excellent quality of life. An excellent place to raise children.
I suppose in the back of all our minds was and is that we are still living in the Middle East – we still have to earn our place here. But nothing prepared me for October 7. Nothing. I should say, I have little right to complain, as the existence of the families of hostages, of those injured and killed, of those forced to evacuate their homes is incomparable. Nevertheless, we are all living in a post-October 7th world where we know that the country we love is threatened as never before. This is truly an existential conflict, and we are facing a seven-front war that is approaching a year, with no end in sight.
But as we Israelis know, people facing challenges often meet them. While it would be a gross overstatement to say that this country is united – that train has left the station – it can be said that many, many of our fellow citizens have been responding to this crisis in ways that are inspiring. People have shown bravery, caring, kindness and determination. This is true of many Israelis, and certainly no less of Israelis with disabilities. I’m privileged to be president of Israel Elwyn, an organization that provides support services to more than 5,400 children and adults with disabilities, and I have had the unique opportunity to witness true courage, true determination and have been nothing less than inspired.
Take, for example, the family of Lavi, a nearly 3-year-old boy from Ramot Naftali, a moshav in Northern Israel, who have been through tremendous upheaval during the conflict. Before the war, Lavi attended an early intervention center in Kiryat Shmona, which helped him and his family cope with his disability and even flourish. Lavi’s family was evacuated to a hotel in Tiberias. For months, they moved from hotel to hotel, trying to adjust to the instability and to cope with the unknown. Lavi’s emotional response to this was not surprisingly difficult and made it hard for his family to cope. Whenever they returned to Ramot Naftali for weekends, Lavi would show improvement and his behavior changed.
After seven difficult months, Lavi’s family made the courageous decision to return home. Lavi is now enrolled in Israel Elwyn’s early intervention center in Tzfat. Due to the ongoing security situation and its dangers, the Mevo’ot HaHermon local government had difficulty in providing daily transportation for Lavi to Tzfat. His parents, recognizing the importance for Lavi of being at the center, rose to the challenge and made the long trip themselves.
This story of determination is by far not the only one. So how can we not be inspired by the resilience of Israelis in these times and the everyday hardships they undertake to try to maintain a sense of normalcy?
For others, the return to “normal” is more difficult. Yasmin, a ceramics teacher in Israel Elwyn’s supported living program, tragically lost her son, First Sergeant Evyatar Ohayon-Abukasis, when he fell in battle at the Kissufim Outpost on October 7th. Staff and residents of our supported living program wanted to help, to reach out, to tell Yasmin that they cared. They began a project to develop a therapeutic garden in memory of Evyatar, z”l. This garden features hand-made ceramic flowers, leaves and other items that the residents made lovingly. The garden was dedicated at a moving ceremony, and while nothing can ever attenuate Yasmin’s sense of loss, her colleagues and ceramic students found a unique way to honor Yasmin and, especially, honor the ultimate sacrifice made by the late Evyatar.
These two stories show how the people of Israel not only choose life but choose to honor the sacrifice of our brothers and sisters by insisting on returning to a “new normal.” Am Yisrael chai!
