October 7, 2023: A tsunami of horror, shock, disbelief, anger, sorrow, fear, anxiety.
October 8, 2023: Stress over the unspeakable horrors forced upon innocent Israelis by Hamas barbarians; the increasing alarm and mistrust caused by IDF and government failure; the ensuing psychological trauma, scarring and panic about the hostages, Israel and Jewish survival.
October 9, 2023: The media dispersing anti-Israel propaganda, international false charges of Israeli genocide against Palestinians, demonstrations of antisemitism on U.S. campuses, UNWRA complicity in Hamas terror. And plenty more.
And it goes on.

The photo above is of a flag featuring an Israeli man who saved many people at Nova but died trying to save even more.

Sitting at home in my West Orange Jewish bubble, I was falling into deep despair. I had to climb out of that rabbit hole. The only sensible, possible thing I could think of doing was go to Israel, see for myself and maybe find some antidote to my feeling of helplessness.

So in September I went on a volunteer trip to Israel with the Jewish National Fund – USA. It was JNF-USA’s 19th organized volunteer mission. There were 27 of us, from various places, all wanting to help rebuild the Israel Envelope (aka Gaza Envelope) and express unity with our Israeli sisters and brothers.

When we got there, we painted playground equipment and built benches at Kibbutz Tze’lim. We potted ornamental plants for a nursery owner in Ashkelon who had moved out of Gaza in 2005. She has had very few workers since October 7.

​Miriam Seiden, left, and Dr. Deborah Sherman, right,  painted playgroup equipment at a kibbutz in the picture above.  ​

We went to the Druze village of Julis, where we helped Basma, an IDF widow, prepare and package 400 meals for soldiers in the Noor restaurant which she owns. Basma converted her kitchen to make it kosher so she could feed soldiers every day.

​Shuva Junction, a rest stop for soldiers in the Israel Envelope, needed help cleaning out their refrigerators. We cleaned enthusiastically, with some of us saying this was more than they do at home! 

​We talked with soldiers who were so grateful for the help, and to have a place to rest, eat, and drink. It felt so normal, and yet so otherworldly.

We heard from a 20-year-old who lost both parents on October 7. He played guitar and sang “Imagine” without a tear. But we cried. A lot.

I wondered what John Lennon, who wrote the song, would have imagined had he been there.  

The Special in Uniform band performed “The Wind Beneath My Wings,” leaving everyone in a flood of tears. This unit is composed of disabled and autistic teens who become integrated into the IDF and Israeli society, fulfilling its core belief that everyone belongs and everyone has the right to reach his or her potential.

In one day we visited both the site of the Nova Festival and the field of burnt-out car remains. I have no words to express the deep sorrow we felt. How could this have happened?  

That same day, we traveled to an army base on the Gaza border. We were greeted by many of the soldiers in uniform whom we embraced; we talked, shared dinner, sang, and danced together.

We felt pure joy that evening. To go from deepest sorrow caused by evil that morning to pure joy and love later that same day is the Israel we took home with us.

The Israelis we met were resilient, motivated, inspiring, and appreciative. Our presence there helps alleviate their feeling alone in the world. Their presence did the same for us.

The anxiety I experienced before the mission dissipated while I was there. I returned home with the wind beneath my wings. I am hopeful. I know we will survive.

Go to Israel. You will be comforted and relieved.

Originally published in the New Jersey Jewish News

Like many of my Jewish friends, I was raised in a secular New Jersey home that had strong Jewish core values, but not much religious connection.
 
For my parents, so much of the spirit of Judaism was wrapped up in their commitment to giving back and paying it forward: tikkun olam. For reasons I’ll never understand, even at a young age, my heart called me home to Israel. I eventually lived there for nearly four years. And now, living in my chosen Greater MetroWest community of West Orange, I feel comforted and uplifted to be part of our beautiful and vibrant local Jewish mosaic.

I’ve been contemplating a way to honor my deceased parents, Iris and Leonard, to thank them for giving me these strong Jewish values, and to celebrate my personal connection to Israel. When I announced upon university graduation in 1972 that I was going to volunteer at Kibbutz Gat, they supported me. When I stayed an extra unplanned three months, they supported me. When I finally moved to Israel in 1975 and lived there for three years, they supported me. I returned only to help my mother as her health began to fail in 1978.

How could I possibly pay adequate tribute to the unconditional parental love I received? It was in a conversation with Celine Leeds, director of the Central New Jersey division of the Jewish National Fund-USA, that the idea of donating and beautifying a bomb shelter first came to me. As soon as I thought of it, I immediately knew it was the perfect legacy, the perfect gift for the existing and future generations in the Negev.
 
The bomb shelter beautification effort spearheaded by Jewish National Fund-USA addresses two critical problems in Israel’s Negev communities known as the Gaza Envelope. When conflict flares up, bomb shelters are a necessary safety infrastructure to protect civilians and save lives. In the Gaza Envelope, a red alert will sound when a missile is incoming; there are only 15 seconds of warning, and then everyone within earshot must have entered a protected space.
 
These concrete bomb shelter structures can be imposing and frightening for local children. Donating and painting a bomb shelter with happy, colorful scenes can help ease the children’s fears while providing safety.

My hope for the shelter in Kfar Maimon is twofold: I hope that it will tell the story of my parents’ love and spirit through the cheerful flowers — an iris, my mother’s name, and my favorite, a sunflower with my parents’ names inscribed on the leaves. A mural depicts a pair of happy children playing in the sunshine, with birds and butterflies, and a tree of life.
 
I also pray that this bomb shelter will never be needed, and that soon it can be repurposed for other community uses. As an active and proud donating member of the Greater MetroWest Jewish community, I am inspired by the vibrant philanthropy and the beautiful connection to Israel and the local community that we have. It is important for me to share my experience honoring my parents in the hopes of inspiring others to think creatively as well. There is nothing more beautiful than spreading the light of our loved ones’ memories.
 
I hope their spirit infuses Kfar Maimon with as much love and warmth as they gave me.

Miriam Seiden of West Orange is a published writer, photographer and ESL instructor. Her ESL program, SpeakingEnglishTogether.org, provides weekly professional classes and volunteer mentors.
 
Stay tuned for my next blog COMING SOON!

I wrote this piece for a local Jewish newspaper in my community some years ago. I am sharing it here because I still hold sacred the time I spent with these people in their communities. I want to share the warmth, friendship and hope I received from this experience. I am still in touch with many of the folks I met then.
                                                              
My romance with Israel began in 1972, fresh out of college, and with a burning hunger for adventure in my veins.  I was compelled to visit Israel which surprised everyone who knew me as I was most definitely a secular Jew with no religious training or background whatsoever. My experience of being Jewish consisted of eating gefilte fish, matzo ball soup and brisket with family on the Jewish holidays.

​I arranged to volunteer at Kibbutz Gat through the Jewish Agency in New York. That was the start of my Israel love affair which resulted in 4 years living on the kibbutz and then in Kiryat Shemona and finally in Jerusalem. Israel was a child then and, in essence, so was I.
 
Throughout the years my heart has remained in Israel, resulting in numerous return trips, witnessing the maturation of the country. Every time I go back I am amazed by the development of this country sitting in the middle of an unfriendly neighborhood, unfriendly not just to Jews but to various religions, tribes, families and political entities. In spite of so much adversity, from within and without, the human spirit prevails in Israel, and this diverse population manages to produce results of mystifying proportions.
 
My latest foray into the country started with my intent to bring first time visitors to Israel. It is personally important to me for people to get past the media bias by experiencing Israel firsthand. I spent two weeks in April traveling throughout the country with 16 mostly Christian Americans and a knowledgeable Israeli tour guide. I referred to these folks as my “Israeli Virgins”.
 
We visited the typical tourist spots and incorporated home visits with a Druze teacher in Magdal Chams, a Christian Arab woman in Jaffa, a Palestinian hotel owner from East Jerusalem, an Armenian shop owner in the Old City of Jerusalem, an Orthodox Jewish family in B’nei Barak, a Jewish Ethiopian resettlement center in Tzfat and more. There is endless diversity in Israel, making it exotic, mysterious and  complex.
 
Wanting to extend my stay and experience more of Israel, I let people know I could give English lessons in exchange for home stays. It was my idea to contribute a skill I have and learn more about Israel in the process. I had been an ESL (English as a Second Language) teacher to both children and adults in Israel and the U.S. in the past.
 
 A retired female army colonel acquaintance from Tel Aviv offered a week living with her so I could help build her confidence speaking English. I accepted the offer. I also contacted N.J.’s Greater Metro West Global Connections staff member in Israel, Michal Zur, letting her know I could teach in some of their partnership communities. I have an ongoing involvement with GMW’s Arad community and felt a very strong connection with the families I knew there. Why not extend these “living bridge” relationships even further using ESL to build more connections?
 
Thanks to Michal and the GreaterMW staff in Israel, a plan took shape. I taught children at Hagivah, a grammar school in Ofakim in the Negev, and worked closely with the two English teachers there, Olga and Cami. Olga incorporates yoga, art and English providing the third, fourth, fifth and sixth graders with learning experiences from a fresh perspective of calmness and acceptance. Her methodology has become a model for teachers in other schools.

​There were some Israeli Jews who questioned my decision to embark on this adventure and I ignored their concerns. The home was beautifully furnished and sparkling clean. Tesehel and Islam treated me with warm hospitality, extending a welcoming hand in friendship which I gladly accepted and reciprocated.

We became so comfortable so quickly with one another that after 2 days we were joking that I could be Islam’s second wife. It is still customary for Bedouin men to have multiple wives…and many children, a practice resulting in a rapidly growing population. Tesehel wears the hijab (means cover in Arabic) out of the house, even in the backyard where we spent time sharing our life experiences.

Tesehel is a modern, Arabic, Hebrew and English speaking woman, who works  in a Youth At Risk program in Segev Shalom. Her husband, also trilingual, works in Beersheva.                       .
 
Tesehel drove to Segev Shalom each morning for her job with Youth Futures and I traveled with her to teach English at an elementary school. Here is one of many Negev Bedouin grammar schools, quite dirty and brimming with overactive kids. I was taken aback by the lack of discipline and cleanliness. But I admired the teachers I worked with who came from Arab Muslim villages in the north.

Rula, the second Arab Muslim English teacher I worked with, also from the north, is living with her husband, a psychologist, and their 3 year old son who attends school in Beersheva. Rula is attending Tel Aviv University for her masters in teaching English. Her command of the English language is somewhat lacking but where she shines is her insistence that the children clean the room before she will teach them and that they respect her, themselves and each other. 
 


She keeps their attention and they are well behaved due to her attitude towards them. She is professional and respectful and while the children are not exactly speaking English, they are learning and maintaining the vocabulary she is teaching them.

I stayed with Rula and her small family for a few nights in Segev Shalom in their rented house not far from the school. One afternoon they took me to one of 40 unrecognized Bedouin villages to meet their friends, a young couple who both work outside the village. Here there is no electricity, no sewage, no garbage collection, no running water.

​These villages predate the state of Israel from Ottoman and British rule. They have gas canisters, solar panels, camels, sheep and goats. It is not permitted to build in the unrecognized villages. These formerly nomadic people are resistant to “urban life” which is how they view the recognized villages. The Bedouins have very strong ties to their culture and lifestyle.