By Leora Muskat
I expected to spend my time in Israel this summer helping Israeli society and interacting with “regular” people, but I learned very quickly that no one in Israel is regular. Every other year, Counterpoint, a YU-run summer program, brings students to the south of Israel to teach underprivileged children English. However, this year, similar to much of our lives after October 7, the program was completely upended.
Counterpoint this summer was unique because we had the privilege to spend our summer surrounded by every-day Israelis as we volunteered throughout the country. We met the parents of children in Sderot, farmers from Moshav Givati, artists who helped us paint in Kibbutz Erez, and more. Together as we weeded cauliflower plants and painted a gan (kindergarten) in the burning sun, we were lucky enough to hear their stories. It quickly struck me that although I’ve heard personal accounts from the war in the past, something about this experience was different. I wasn’t listening to their stories as part of a formal talk or advertised speech from a famous “hero,” instead I was listening to a peer, another “regular” person that I had met in real life. Upon this realization, the words of a song I had heard this year echoed loudly in my ears, and continued to play throughout my trip:
נכון כולם נראים פה רגילים אבל/ אנחנו עם של גיבורי על/ בכל אחד תמיד מסתתר חייל/ מוכן להציל את העולם
It’s true that everyone looks normal here, but/ we are a nation of superheroes/ there is always a soldier hiding in everyone/ ready to save the world.
After my summer on Counterpoint, I can attest that these words describe Israeli society in its truest form. From the strong mothers in the supermarket who send their kids to war, to the bnot sherut my age volunteering throughout the country, everyone I encountered on this four-week mission in Israel was prepared to save the world in their own unique way.
My first glimpse of Israeli heroism was in Kibbutz Erez – a stunning community located only one kilometer north of Gaza. There we began our journey painting houses and murals in evacuated kibbutzim in an attempt to restore the sense of safety and comfort stolen from these communities on October 7. In Kibbutz Erez, we painted a beautiful home belonging to a family of four, who packed up their lives in small bags on that fateful day and left their home.
The house was frozen in time. Shoes on the floor, jackets hanging on hooks, their pictures on the fridge, and the closets filled with their clothes.
Our job was to paint over the trauma the family experienced that day so they could finally return home. In the middle of painting, we had the opportunity to meet the owner of the house and hear his personal account of October 7. Since he was too old to fight in the army or even miluim (reserves) we expected to hear that he, like most civilians, spent the entire day hiding in the ma’amad (safe room) with his family. Instead, he explained that as everyone else ran into their ma’amadim for protection, he ran out. He, along with nine other kibbutznikim, fathers, sons, and brothers, defended the entire kibbutz from being infiltrated by over 40 terrorists. He described the battle to us and shared the story of Amir Naim, a husband and soon to be father, who was killed in battle protecting the kibbutz. Due to the bravery of Amir and the nine other kibbutznikim, no one else from Kibbutz Erez was hurt that day. When he finished speaking, the room went silent, as we all slowly realized that although the man standing in front of us wasn’t wearing a madi’im (army uniform) or holding a gun, he was in fact a soldier and a hero.
However, not all heroes fight in battles. This was impressed upon us at gymboree in Sderot where kids come to play on obstacle courses, jump on trampolines and have fun with their friends. The most inspiring part of the gymboree was that it was almost entirely run by local teenagers who spend their free time giving back to their community. One of these unassuming teenagers told us about his experience on October 7, explaining that he tragically lost his father, Adir Shlomo H”YD on that day, who was one of the police officers killed in the infamous police station battle in Sderot. We asked him why he works in the gymboree and he profoundly said, “I know that it’s impossible for me to be happy right now, but I can bring happiness to others.” Just like that we met another hero, this time disguised as a regular 15-year-old boy.
On our last day volunteering we learned how the perseverance of one person can directly affect so many others. On that day we worked on a vineyard and our job was to weed out bad grapes that couldn’t grow properly due to lack of manpower on the farm since the war began. The impact that this war has had on daily Israeli society was imprinted upon us as we walked from tree to tree, discarding grapes that could have fed hundreds of families, and helped generate income for this farmer and many others. I began talking with the farmer and asked him how many workers he usually has, he responded that it ranges from 30 to 100. I followed up by asking him how many workers he has now, nine months after the start of the war. He looked at me and made a round shape with his hand. “Effes?! (zero),” I asked. He nodded slowly. He then explained that he feels a sense of responsibility to keep the farm going, and said, “If I don’t settle the land, who will? If I don’t put food in the Israeli supermarkets, who will?” After experiencing the difficulties of farming in the south of Israel for only a few days, it was unimaginable to me how he was able to maintain this farm completely on his own. However, to this Israeli farmer with a strong will to give to his country, it was so obvious that he is part of something bigger than himself, something he is proud to sacrifice for each and every day.
Throughout our trip the list of heroes continuously grew, from the 19-year-old soldiers we served at a barbeque who put their lives on hold to fight for Am Yisrael, to the Teitelabum family who I met when I paid a shiva call for their son, Yakir, who was killed in battle. It would be impossible to write about every extraordinary person I met because I saw them everywhere I turned. While each person has their own unique story and sacrifices, they all share one thing in common: the strength and resilience to live proudly in Israel, and that in itself is heroic.
As an American visitor, I repeatedly pondered the question, “Now what?” What does one do when they hear stories of the sacrifices made by our brothers and sisters to safeguard our land, protect our people, and further the Jewish dream of redemption? I personally experienced a strong sense of guilt that I can’t contribute in the same way as my Israeli friends who are serving our country and that I am not in Israel full-time to share in their experiences. The truth is, I don’t have an answer for how to fully relieve the feeling of guilt, because I believe there is a level of validity to it. That being said, these stories also sparked positive feelings and productive actions.
With each person I met and story I heard I was filled to the brim with a profound sense of pride for my extended family. The Gemara in Brachot 6a tells us that Hashem wears tefillin (phylacteries) and written on his Tefillin is the phrase, “Who is like Your people, Israel, one nation in the land?” This phrase highlights Am Yisrael’s uniqueness which I felt deeply throughout my trip. As the morality of the Israeli people continues to be attacked in the diaspora, the pride from these stories can inspire us to stand tall and proud in the name of Am Yisrael.
Along with the pride that I felt for the people I met on my trip, I was overcome with a deep sense of hakarat hatov (Gratitude). After hearing the stories of my Israeli peers, I internalized that they are the ones who enable us to exist as a sovereign nation in our homeland and ensure the safety of Am Yisrael all over the world, and for that I am eternally grateful. It is important for us to take a moment (or more) each day and recognize our brothers and sisters in Israel and all that they do for Am Yisrael.
Lastly, our nation’s heroes inspire me to find ways in my own life to sacrifice for others, both on a personal and national level. Their sacrifices charge all of us with the responsibility to live by the values which they heroically fight for: Am Yisrael, Eretz Yisrael, and Torat Yisrael.
I would be remiss if I did not say a huge thank you to Dean Sara Asher, Dr. Jonathan Schwab, Rikki Kolodny, Nava Sackett, Gabi Sackett, Stephanie Strauss, Stephanie Sugarman, Alana Reichenberg, Sam Gelman, and Shira and Yehuda Benhamu for working so hard to run this incredible program. Their endless hard work and dedication were felt by all each day, giving everyone a summer that was not only full of fun but also extremely meaningful and impactful. One that we will never forget.