Reflections on aliyah – Seven years later

Over the last few weeks, I’ve written and re-written this article several times. When I first began, I wrote about how I hoped that the three kidnapped Israeli teens would be found alive and safe. Their deaths were reported a few hours later. 

Then there was the murdered Arab teen. All of us, not wanting to believe that one of our own could be capable of performing a revenge killing, hoped that the perpetrator would be found and would be Arab. We were wrong, and we learned the hard way that one of ours was capable of committing such a crime. 

Then, more and more rockets were fired into Israel. The situation once again escalated, and most of the country found itself running to bomb shelters. Some, particularly those in the south of Israel, made more trips than others. 

In everything there is a silver lining. I see it now more than ever before. Before the Israeli teens were found, Jews in Israel and around the world united in prayer and support. My sister, Eve Stieglitz, ran a fundraiser in New York in honor of the three boys. They collected $16,000 that would go toward several charitable causes, such as supporting Lone Soldiers in the IDF. When she called to tell me the horrible news that the boys’ bodies had been found, through her tears she said, “At least the money is still going to a good cause.” Rather than erupting in rage and calls for revenge, Jews around the world united in mourning and more prayer. Even in their own time of mourning, the parents of the deceased boys did not call for chaos and revenge. They called for good deeds and calm, out of respect for the lives that their boys led.

When it was discovered that the murderers of the Arab teen were Israeli, the killing was almost universally labeled as deplorable by Jews worldwide. Some even added the young boy to images of the three slain Israeli teens. They were all one in that they were killed due to hatred. Hundreds of Israelis went to the home of the murdered boy’s parents to pay their respects as a community.

And the rockets? Don’t get me wrong, it’s never fun to hear a siren go off. Many, however, choose to laugh rather than cry. We joke around during the 10 minutes we’re in the bomb shelters, watch comedic sketches on television about bomb shelter antics, wear costumes to cheer up the frightened children and come up with things like humorous siren instructions such as, “If in the shower, take a moment to consider staying there, and then run into the shelter dripping wet, but don’t forget your towel!” Somewhere among this is the truth of Israeli society – that when there is nowhere to run strangers at a bus stop will huddle together, each one shielding the other from possible harm. And last but not least, thank G-d for Iron Dome, a defense system that has saved who knows how many lives.

And the rockets? Don’t get me wrong, it’s never fun to hear a siren go off. Many, however, choose to laugh rather than cry. We joke around during the 10 minutes we’re in the bomb shelters, watch comedic sketches on television about bomb shelter antics, wear costumes to cheer up the frightened children and come up with things like humorous siren instructions such as, “If in the shower, take a moment to consider staying there, and then run into the shelter dripping wet, but don’t forget your towel!” Somewhere among this is the truth of Israeli society – that when there is nowhere to run strangers at a bus stop will huddle together, each one shielding the other from possible harm. And last but not least, thank G-d for Iron Dome, a defense system that has saved who knows how many lives.

As I sit on a Jerusalem bus and write this article in mid-July, five days after the seventh anniversary of the day I moved to Israel and became a citizen, I don’t know what the next year of my life in Israel will bring. I don’t even know what the next day will bring. What I do know is this – for the last seven years I have been proud not just to call myself Jewish, but Israeli as well. Israel is the heart of world Jewry, a heart that beats strong with love, morals, compassion and kindness. I look forward to continuing to be at the center of that for yet another wonderful, meaningful year. 

DANIEL STIEGLITZ (dstieglitz@gmail.com), a Providence native, made aliyah in 2007. He holds a master’s degree in creative writing from Bar Ilan University; works as a trip coordinator at Sachlav/Israelonthehouse, a Birthright trip organizer; does freelance content writing; and lives in Jerusalem. His short story “Haven” was recently published in FictionMagazines.com’s online magazine, eFiction.