Dvar Israel 5.10.2024
Noga:
Shalom everyone
I can hardly believe I stand before you today as we approach the one year mark since the brutal attack on Israel on October 7th. A year has passed, yet, this unimaginable tragedy persists and the suffering continues. It continues for the hostages in the tunnels of Hamas and for their families who fight for their lives day by day. It continues for the soldiers, some of whom are our friends, who display incredible courage protecting us, and for their families wishing for their safe return. This year has brought overwhelming loss, pain, and profound grief for all of us, Israelis and Jews in Israel and the Diaspora.
Among the countless faces and stories of this war, I have chosen to focus today on Naama Levi. Naama, a soldier serving as an observer at the IDF surveillance base in Nahal Oz, was brutally abducted by Hamas terrorists on the morning of October 7th. The video of her abduction, portraying a young girl surrounded by armed terrorists, barefoot, hands tied behind her back, and in blood stained sweatpants, has become a symbol of Hamas's brutality, shocking people around the world.
For almost a year, Naama has been held captive. I want to share her story, perhaps because she reminds me of myself, a young girl yearning for peace,
dedicated to helping others, filled with passion and dreams for the future. Naama is also the daughter of Ayelet Shahar, a dear friend of my mother, which adds a personal dimension to her story and makes her struggle resonate deeply. I can’t help but think it could easily be me in her place, an abducted soldier wondering if anyone remembers her, if anyone is fighting for her, or if she has been forgotten.
Naama was born on June twenty second, 2004, has three siblings and lives in Ranana. About a month after October 7th, I thought, somewhat naively, that it was a relief her birthday was still far off, as she would surely be home to celebrate it by then. I never imagined we would find ourselves a year later still waiting for her return. The name Naama means “delight” or “pleasant,” which perfectly captures her warm and joyful personality. She was a member of “Hands for peace”, and has always believed in the power of peace and unity. Even during her abduction she kept on saying “I have friends in Palestine” showing she believed that once the terrorists realize she sees the people in Gaza as friends and neighbors they will release her. Naama is also a dedicated triathlete, and I hold onto the hope that the courage, determination, and resilience she has developed through her training are helping her stay strong, hopeful, and alive.
As I reflect on this year, I refuse to accept that Naama is still being held by terrorists underground, enduring horrific conditions and living in fear for so long. How does the world keep on turning? Why hasn’t everything stopped? When I enjoy a warm meal or listen to my favorite music, I can't help but think about how Naama, in captivity, is deprived of these simple freedoms and pleasures. I worry that as the days pass, we may begin viewing the hostages as distant figures rather than recognizing Naama and the other 100 hostages as human beings- mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, grandchildren, and friends, just like us. I’m afraid Naama becomes nothing more then a symbol, a poster that is placed on a chair, not because we are devoid of emotion, but so that we can continue to live and not have to feel every moment the suffering she goes trough, the pain, fear and despair.
I would like to quote the words of Dr. Ayelet Shahar Levi, Naama's mother, which she delivered at the rally on July 7: "...we know from testimonies of the returns, that for many days, weeks, you were alone. Alone with your captors who moved you from place to place, between combat zones, so many times. We know that you were injured, but you continue to stand on your feet with determination and bear in this hell. What else has happened to you now? What else has happened to you, since the women and children returned and you are still there in the tunnels, all these days and weeks and months? we don't know. It's hard to think. We don't want to imagine, and the heart breaks and goes out to you. Time passes, the days pass and the minutes drip pain upon pain, and the longing for you is endless. I want to remind everyone tonight that this horror continues. The moments we saw in the videos are not over. The terrorist attack continues. Pure terror that increases day by day. This is the time for all of us, for everyone to learn from you Naama. For nine months I carried you, I waited for you and you came to us into the world. And now, after nine months of terror, I'm waiting for you to come back to me, to us. Everyone is waiting for you. mom loves you Mom will hug you and take care of you. Mother is waiting for you."
Today, as days become years, I’m trying to cling to every ounce of hope I can find. I picture Naama returning home to her mother’s arms, and I hold all 101 hostages in my thoughts, each deserving that same moment of reunion. I would like to finish with a massages of hope by Shanika Shaked:
If the flowers still bloom, if the seasons still change in turn, if the sky is still above me, if the mountains still stand, if the streams still flow to the sea, if all nature still believes, than I believe as well.
Thank you and Shabbat Shalom
Yoav:
I stand here today, almost one year since the war began, and it’s hard to believe how much has changed. It’s heartbreaking to think about the pain we’ve all been through, and yet, we are here, standing strong together.
On October 7, I found myself far from home, in central Asia, travelling with my family. That day, I felt completely helpless. While my family and I were physically safe, the overwhelming sense of being so far away from my country, not knowing what was happening, or when we could go back, was crushing. I remember checking the news constantly, hoping for updates, trying to reach friends and family in Israel. My heart was racing every time I heard my phone buzz. Flights to Israel were canceled, and the uncertainty only grew. For the first time, I felt like I might have no home to return to. It was this strange feeling of being safe, but also feeling like a part of me was in danger. The physical distance felt like a wall, keeping me from protecting the people and places I love most, as I’m sure many of you felt, too.
Almost a year has passed since that tragic day, and it’s sad to think about how much we’ve all endured. The heartbreak that swept across Israel was felt by everyone, no matter where we were. It felt like our country was being torn apart, and for a while, there was only confusion and pain.
But in that chaos, something remarkable happened. We came together in ways we hadn’t seen for a long time. Despite our differences, despite the disagreements that had previously divided us, we helped one another. People from every walk of life, every background, extended a hand to their neighbors, showing kindness, generosity, and unity.
The commitment and bravery of our soldiers, who stood and are still standing on the front lines, inspired the entire country, as they defended our homeland with unimaginable courage. It wasn’t just those Israelis who were already serving, but so many who were on vacation, or abroad for other reasons, and who dropped everything and rushed back home to fight. People from all around the world, from every corner of the diaspora, returned to Israel, ready to defend the land they love. These men and women embodied the spirit of Israel, proving once again that our people will always come together in times of need, no matter where we are.
There’s a song that became very popular in Israel a few years ago, by the band Full Trunk. I want to read you a part of the chorus:
"How stressful is it, then why a city?
Chillin' in the Kibbutz at half the price."
The members of this band live in the kibbutzim on the Gaza border. The song paints a picture of life in a kibbutz, showing how peaceful and laid-back it can be, away from the pressures of city life. But after the attacks on October 7th, that peace was shattered. The kibbutzim, once places of calm, a magnet for the peace-loving, became front lines in the fight for survival. The band has now said they will no longer perform this song, as life on the kibbutz is no longer “chill.
The contrast between the kibbutz's peaceful past and the harsh reality of the present reflects the strength and resilience of those living on Israel’s front lines. On October 7, they held on for hours, standing strong against terror. This bravery shows how deeply rooted our spirit is, and how, despite everything, we find hope in our unity.
This is what gives me optimism. Even though we continue to face difficult times, we stand together as one people, no matter where we are. We’re stronger because of our unity, and we’ll continue to support each other through whatever challenges lie ahead. This is the strength of Israel and the Jewish People and the strength that carries us through these difficult times.
May we hope and pray for the safe return of all the hostages. Shabbat Shalom.
Dvar Israel 20.9.2024 Noga and Yoav
Noga:
Shalom everyone,
It has been three weeks since Yoav and I arrived in Toronto, full of excitement and unsure of what to expect. The first days were overwhelming and challenging as we tried to navigate everything new and unfamiliar. Today, we’d like to share a bit about our experience adapting to life in Canada, as we've certainly encountered some cultural surprises along the way!
The first thing that surprised me was discovering the "crosswalk button." In Israel, pedestrian lights change automatically, so I was used to just waiting for the light to turn green. Here, I found myself standing for ten minutes, waiting for the walking man icon to appear, only to realize that pressing the button actually makes a difference. I also got excited about the countdown feature on the light, I find myself racing against the clock to see how quickly I can cross the street.
Speaking of transportation, have you noticed those big yellow school buses? In Israel, we don’t have a special bus just for students, so I was amazed to find out that in Canada, these yellow buses aren’t just in movies - they’re actually used in real life! I was so excited about them that I took dozens of pictures and now my whole photo gallery is yellow school buses.
I also learned that many daily sounds here, like school bells and ambulance sirens, closely resemble the air raid sirens I’m used to back home, but without the scary part. Whenever I hear these sounds, I’m not sure whether to take cover or simply adjust to my new surroundings.
The funniest thing is how incredibly polite and kind everyone is here. When I accidentally bump into someone on the street, they’re the ones apologizing to me, even though I ran into them! It’s both charming and amusing to see such consideration, both on the street, and especially here, within the community, and it’s a refreshing change from what I’m used to.
I want to give a special thanks to my host family, who have been incredibly helpful and have made me feel at home. Without their support and assistance, I wouldn’t have adapted so easily. I feel very lucky to have such wonderful people by my side.
Overall, settling into this city and community has been an amazing experience. We are slowly adjusting, and each day we feel more and more at home. I’m truly grateful for the warm welcome I’ve received, it has made this huge change much easier and more enjoyable.
Thank you and Shabbat Shalom.
Yoav:
As Noga said moving to a new place means making a lot of adjustments, and one of the first things I had to figure out was public transportation! At first, it felt overwhelming, but each day I’m getting more comfortable with it. Whether it’s hopping on the right bus or discovering new parts of the city, Toronto is slowly starting to feel more familiar.
Adjusting to life here also means getting used to speaking English all the time. Since it's our second language, we might not always be as clear as we would like to be, so we hope you’ll bear with us as we find the right words.
Another interesting discovery was the squirrels. In Israel we are used to stray cats roaming around, but here squirrels are the part of the day-to-day life. They are so adorable and entertaining, though upon closer inspection, I can’t help but think they resemble rats with a better pubic image.
Even with the challenges of settling into a new city, what really makes a place feel like home is the people. In Israel, I was part of something very special - the incredible sense of community and love. The way people come together, support each other, and share both joyful and challenging moments created a deep sense of belonging. I wasn’t sure if I would have that same feeling here, but I’m grateful to experience that this is exactly the same here. Being welcomed into this synagogue and this Jewish community in Toronto has shown me that no matter where you go, the warmth of the Jewish community is always strong and welcoming.
The support from my host family has been incredibly meaningful. Their kindness and warmth have made settling into Toronto much easier. After a long day, coming home to them truly feels comforting and like home. Their ongoing support is making a big difference in my time here.
All of these experiences have shown me that moving to a new country is a complex journey, but with the right people and an open mind, a new place can quickly start to feel like home. We remind you that after the service we have our first Kiddush and learn session, feel free to join us in the Tessler Hall.
First Dvar Israel 7.9.2024 Noga and Yoav
Yoav:
Hi everyone my name is Yoav and right beside me is Noga, and we are going to be your UJA Shinshinim this year. We are super excited to be here, we feel honored to be a part of this community and looking forward to getting to know each of you during the year.
I will start by telling you a little bit about myself, I’m 18 years old and I live in a small city near Tel Aviv called Givat Shmuel. I grew up in a close family, not just with my parents and siblings but also with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. We’ve always been really close, and they have all been a big part of my life. In school I concentrated in computer science, psychology, and literature. I chose that mix of subjects because I’m very interested in human related subjects but also in science subjects. I’ve also been involved in Krembo wings which is a unique youth movement that aims to integrate kids with and without special needs. I instructed in the youth movement for the past 4 years and it has been incredibly meaningful to me. It taught me the importance of patience, empathy and helped me to appreciate the differences of people. In my free time I love listening to music, I’m doing everything with music and going to live concerts is one of my biggest hobbies. I also like hiking, drawing, and reading. I decided to become a Shinshin because I want to find a way to give back to the community and to experience being a jew outside of Israel.
There's a saying that ‘every end is a new beginning’. As I close one chapter of my life in Israel, I’m excited to begin this new one here in Toronto. This journey represents a fresh start, not just for me, but for all of us as we learn and grow together over the coming year.
Noga:
Shalom everyone,I’m thrilled to be here today and introduce myself to you. As Yoav mentioned, my name is Noga. In Hebrew, my name means “something sparkly,” “brightness,” and it is also the name for Venus. I’m 18 years old and live in Tsur Yigal, a small town, or “Yishuv,” in central Israel near Kfar Saba. I have one older brother named Rotem and three sweet dogs.
I love everything related to art. I used to draw and paint a lot, and my newest obsession is making wire jewelry. In high school, I majored in biology, chemistry, and physics, and I absolutely loved it! For the past six years, I have been active in the Israeli youth movement “Krembo Wings,” which, as Yoav mentioned, is an inclusive youth movement for children with and without disabilities. I deeply connect to the values of the movement, which emphasize empathy and inclusiveness, and it has truly become a part of my identity.
You might be wondering why I decided to come to Toronto to be a UJA shinshinit. Let me share a little about that. By the end of 11th grade, I knew I wanted to take a year before my army service to grow and experience more before entering such a demanding system for 3 years. I thought that serving the Jewish world this year would be the best way for me to do that, as I would love to contribute to the sense of community, explore the Jewish world, and gain a better understanding of who I am as a Jew and as an Israeli.
I’m beyond excited to get to know all of you, join your community, learn from you, show you Israel through my eyes, and form meaningful bonds.
Unfortunately, the past 11 months have been incredibly difficult and heartbreaking. Leaving Israel, our home, our family, and our friends at such a time is harder than ever. However, we know that this is the right place for us to be right now and the best thing for us to do in this painful situation.
If you see us in the hallway at the shul or anywhere else, please feel free to say hello! We would love to meet each and every one of you. Additionally, we invite you to check out our fun fact posters hung in various places around the shul – every week we will share a different fact. This week, we’ve shared facts about ourselves so you can get to know us a little better!
Thank you so much for your warm welcome, and Shabbat Shalom.
Shinshinim 2024-2025
