‘We choose life’
A visit to Israel reveals heroism both large and small
I just spent an extraordinary week on a Camp Ramah mission to Israel. The last time I had been there was November 2023. The brutal attack of October 7 had left the country in shock and mourning. Everything was closed, streets were eerily quiet, and people were scrambling to help all those who suffered unimaginable losses.
Now, 14 months later, Israel’s streets appear busy and alive again. Cafes are bustling, shops are open, and life seems to have returned to a kind of normalcy. But looks can be deceiving. Beneath the surface, the trauma runs deep. Israel is a place where our people are simultaneously grieving profound losses and defiantly choosing life through their resilience and determination.
I find myself at a loss for words to fully express the depth of my feelings from this visit — how profoundly moved I was, how deeply inspired, and how overwhelmingly proud I am to be a part of the Jewish people. My heart is filled with eternal gratitude for the brave soldiers of the IDF who are not only defending their families and their country but are also sacrificing for all of us. Too many have given their lives, and their heroism humbles me beyond words.
Instead of trying to explain my feelings and experiences, I want to share with you some of the real heroes I met on the trip — the people making an enormous difference for us and shaping our future as a Jewish people.
Meet Atir, a young man of 24 who attended the Nova concert with a group of 20 friends. When the unimaginable attack began, the group split up and Atir ran with his best friend and a few others. As they ran, they could hear shooting and screaming. They ran into a police officer, shot and bleeding through the mouth, who warned them not to go south but to run east. For several hours, with gunfire all around them, they ran and hid in brush and ditches, evading group after group of terrorists on the hunt for Israelis.
Ultimately, they found a greenhouse on a farm and hid there with the help of Yunis, a Bedouin, who was the farm’s manager. Atir and his friends heard terrorists approaching and fortunately found a spot where they could hide under the floor. They heard Yunis speaking Arabic to the terrorists but could not understand him. They feared he was betraying them. They could not have been more wrong. Instead, Yunis risked his own life and lied to save the group. Eventually Atir and his friends were rescued by the IDF at the end of what seemed an endless day. (Miraculously, all 20 of his group survived that day, and so did Yunis.)
After enduring an unimaginable day of terror, what did Atir do next? The very next day he joined his IDF unit and headed south into Gaza to defend Israel. That kind of bravery — after facing so much horror — leaves me in awe. Both Atir and Yunis are heroes in every sense of the word.
Then there’s Dovi, a 22-year-old lone soldier from South Africa. Dovi could have stayed in the comfort of home, attending college like so many others his age, but instead he chose to leave everything behind to join the IDF. His unit, still in training, was suddenly called into action. He was ordered to head south.
His team found an Egged bus and asked the driver to take them south. As they were traveling, they were told they were going to Kfar Aza, where their help was needed. As they got closer, they began to see the carnage. When they arrived outside Kfar Aza, they asked the bus driver to wait for them. Realizing he had no gun, they gave him a grenade and wished him luck.
Dovi’s team went house to house to find families who were hiding and to clear homes of terrorists. In every house they entered they encountered something different. In one home they told a woman and her family hiding in the safe room that they were the IDF, but the woman did not believe them, because an earlier group had said the same thing — but they were terrorists who killed her husband. It took a very long time to get her and her family out. Dovi and his group were ambushed and attacked as they entered another home, and Dovi’s closest friend was shot and killed. In a final act of true friendship, Dovi carried him out.
As it was Simchat Torah, sukkot still were up, and as Dovi’s team approached a home, they heard voices coming from a sukkah. While they assumed the voices belonged to terrorists, they were under strict orders not to shoot until they were certain. When they entered the sukkah, they found three members of the kibbutz sitting at a table, drinking beer and coffee. The three men looked up at Dovi’s team and asked the soldiers to please shoot them. These men were waiting for terrorists to kill them. They clearly felt hopeless at that moment, but ultimately Dovi’s team saved them.
When Dovi and his team left Kfar Aza 55 hours after they entered, the bus and bus driver were still there waiting for them. Dovi’s team ultimately went on to fight in Gaza for the better part of the year.
Dovi is a quiet, sweet young man who should have never experienced what he did. That is true of countless other soldiers. Yet he told us how honored he was to have been in Kfar Aza to help in defending it and saving many lives. Dovi is a true hero, though he doesn’t believe it.
On Route 232, now also known as K’vish Damim, the route of blood, sits Moshav Shuva. On October 7, the IDF blocked Route 232 right at the moshav, not allowing traffic to go any further south, because of the fighting. The road southward was littered with abandoned cars, burnt cars, and dead bodies.
Kobe, Elian Dror, and Ariel Trabalsi, three brothers from the moshav, brought food out to the street where soldiers were gathering, and to the field across the road where they were bringing the injured and the dead. In the coming days, more and more soldiers came to that spot to rest and to get food. Before they knew it, the three brothers set up “Shuva Achim,” a makeshift cafe to serve the IDF. They also set up a free store, where soldiers could get clothing and everyday supplies.
What began as a spontaneous act of kindness has now become a lifeline, sustained by volunteers and donations. Even amid a ceasefire, the volunteer work continues because the soldiers remain on active duty. These brothers, who have put their own lives on hold, are heroes too.
On our last day, we met Nissimmi, the father of three girls who is an educator, rabbi, and chef. When we met him, we knew we were in the presence of a special human being. Through his cooking and his heartfelt conversations, he creates a safe space for people to process their trauma and grief. He is a sensitive master at getting people to talk, and in their speaking, the long road to healing can begin. But his role doesn’t end there.
Nissimmi is also a reservist, and his team has the heartbreaking responsibility of going to the homes of fallen soldiers and telling their families of the death of their son, daughter, husband, or wife. But that is not all they do. They remain with the family every step of the way, helping them plan the funeral, standing by them at the funeral, and helping through shiva. He shared the unimaginable experience of assisting more than 100 families in just the first week after October 7. His work is truly sacred, and he gives with a full, selfless heart. He is a hero among the Jewish people.
These are just a few of the heroes I had the privilege to meet. Each story I heard left an indelible mark on my heart. Visiting Kfar Aza, we saw with our own eyes the devastation and heard firsthand accounts of the atrocities that occurred there. And yet, amid the ruins, plans are already underway to rebuild the kibbutz, with a reopening set for 2026.
At the Hostages and Missing Families Forum, we met Sharon, whose two brothers are still held in Gaza. His words will stay with me forever: “The terrorists may break our bodies, but they will never break our spirit.”
We made a barbecue for 160 soldiers stationed at an outpost on the Gaza border. All of them are reservists who put their families, businesses, and their personal lives on hold to protect Israel and the Jewish people. All of them are proud to serve and were happy to speak with us in gratitude for our presence.
Honestly, I feel completely humbled and inadequate following my encounters in Israel. I want more than anything to capture for you what I saw and experienced so you know how blessed we all are to be supported by the remarkable people in Israel — our people, our brothers and sisters. The resilience, courage, and spirit of our people left me in awe. Despite the trauma, there is a collective, defiant declaration: We choose life.
My love for our people, our land, and our values has never been deeper or stronger. Here in America, we have the sacred responsibility to proudly wear our collective peoplehood, our Jewish identity, on our sleeves and express it in ways meaningful to each of us. We must continue, without exception, to support Israel, give to the organizations helping, and, without apology, tell our story to our friends and neighbors, and anyone else who will listen. We are Am Yisrael and we must always declare Am Yisrael Chai.
Steve Freedman of Teaneck is the head of school at Schechter Bergen in New Milford.
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