Last night I danced, sang, and shared in the collective joy of Simchat Torah. It is one of our most celebrated Jewish festivals that symbolises new beginnings. As I stood in Caulfield synagogue with my family, I felt privileged to be in a safe place thanks to the wonderful CSG (Community Security Group) but my mind kept drifting back to Israel and the horror of Simchat Torah last year.
I remember exactly where I was when I first heard about the unimaginable on that Black Saturday of October 7. The images, the horrific stories, and the shock of that day and what followed are still etched in my mind. How can we be happy when Israel continues to lose innocent civilians and soldiers almost every day of this endless war and there is such immense trauma and suffering.
We all know that we need to move forward and to dance again as we have done throughout history. To honour those who lost their lives and to the incredible heroes. We strengthen one another as we form circles holding the Torah but the memories of the last 12 months are still fresh and will always be there for many years to come.
Our world was turned upside down in the most horrific way and showed us the nasty, ugly and barbaric side of humanity. We always thought ‘never again’ after the Shoah (the Holocaust). The unique Jewish community I belong to came together immediately in solidarity and right in my synagogue in Caulfield, often referred to as the epicentre or the ghetto of the Melbourne Jewish community.
The following night, my Rabbi, Daniel Rabin, arranged a more intimate gathering where a small group of people came together. That included a few remaining members of the Israeli choir who were still in Melbourne. Many of them are almost part of the furniture as they have been coming to share their special tunes with us over the last nine years (during the high holy days). These young Israeli men described their first reactions and lifted us with their beautiful voices. They filled us with optimism, strength, and hope while their families were in absolute and as they absorbed the harsh events of October 7 and were called up to the army. Their message was clear. We need to be proud Jews who stand tall, our spirit will not be crushed, we aren’t going anywhere but we need to act fast. The enemy can’t take away our spirit. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks said, “There’s always hope. You can lose everything else in the world, but Jews never lose hope.”
It was then that I realised how powerful and comforting it is to be together in times of darkness and that light can shine through. Most people I know in our Melbourne Jewish community felt shocked and helpless for our brothers and sisters in Israel. What could we do from the other end of the world for our Jewish nation that we feel so connected to? Many of us have either family or friends there or know someone that has.
The DNA of Israelis is unique. They are extremely strong, resilient, smart, and courageous and they will not be defeated. I learnt this very quickly when I moved to Israel for six and a half years. During 1998 to 2004, I lived in Tel Aviv and experienced some frightening times when the second Intifada (Uprising) took place and there were hundreds of suicide bombings. On the flipside, that chapter of my life was one of my happiest. My connection with Israel remains strong.
I loved the vibrance of Tel Aviv, I felt so alive and met the most amazing people. I was lucky to live in an electric area close to Sheinkin and Rothshild boulevard where the streets are filled with young and old, religious, and secular, beautiful Bauhaus design and amazing cafes. I was near the boardwalk where I enjoyed exercising and spending time on the beach and frequented my favourite area, the arty Neve Tzedek.
To spend time in a country where remarkable medical discoveries take place and some of the smartest minds create a lot of the technology, we use today is a privilege. Israelis are innate risk-takers who are the perfect candidates to become entrepreneurs. What the world doesn’t know is how special our hospitals are in Israel. They don’t discriminate. Everyone receives the same, world-class treatment and benefits from cutting-edge medical research. Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem is just one that embraces these values. I was proud to be involved with Hadassah Australia for nine years when I returned from Israel.
Dov and Miriam, friends of mine, flew to Israel not long after the war started. I recall sending them a message that when they came home, I wanted to invite people from our congregation to our place so that they could hear first hand how they felt being there, the people they met and helped, what they witnessed and how we can assist from the Diaspora. Rabbi Daniel was keen for this to happen. We both felt the need to continue having events to support one another during such a challenging time. People listened intently as Miriam, Dov and Amanda (another friend who travelled with them) shared their experiences and Miriam handed out photos she took. Depictions of injured soldiers they met at Sheba Hospital, people who survived at Beeri Kibbutz and the Nova Music Festival and hostage families to name a few.
I spoke briefly that night and quoted Rachel Goldberg-Polin who inspired me from the outset with her positivity and optimism about her son Hersh who was kidnapped, severely injured, and abducted to the Gaza Strip during the Hamas attacks. Later that night, someone told me that Rachel was in Melbourne many years ago when she was studying at Melbourne University. I didn’t know the uncanny connection at that stage. My first cousin, Mark, was her lecturer.
In an interview, Deborah Blashki-Marks speaks about a poem she wrote called ‘One Tiny Seed,’ in which she shares both her grief and a message for a woman in Gaza. This was part of an unbelievably moving speech she delivered when she was at the U.N in Geneva. When Deborah asks about how she finds empathy in the midst or her pain, she refers to Mark as an inspiration. He taught her the Mordechai Gebirtig yiddish poem Yankele, which ends with the line “Your mother will cry a thousand tears before you grow to be a man.” A poem that Mark’s father, my late Uncle Yossel, sang to all his children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.
Many of us could feel what a special person Hersh was just by Rachel and Jon’s (Hersh’s father) description on social media, in interviews and their tireless efforts to meet people all over the world, to have not just their son but all the hostages freed. We know that their 23-year-old American Israeli son was a happy, laid-back, good-humoured, respectful,and curious person who loved soccer and music. He was obsessed with geography and travel and planned to go on a round-the-world trip in December 2023 after the Nova festival. It’s such a strange feeling to have so much empathy for a family you don’t know and to mourn with them for their tragic loss.
Despite the horror and darkness, so many women in our community acted immediately, forming working groups. They have advocated and worked tirelessly since October 7 to ensure that Israel is portrayed positively in the media with accurate information. Their efforts have led them to lobby the government, continue to fight against the disgusting anti-Semitism, organise rallies, and vigils and go with groups to Israel to bear witness and show support.
My Rabbi and his wife, together with Cantor Dov, the Board at my synagogue and volunteers have organised so many massive events over the last 12 months. I will never forget when Rabbi Daniel said right at the beginning, “I have never been prouder to be a part of the Melbourne Jewish Community.” I feel the same way and have immense gratitude and respect for our synagogue.
It’s been so beautiful how the different synagogues have collaborated to have certain events in the last 12 months including the most recent kumzits (singalong) that Dov thought of and worked so hard to arrange. It was such a memorable evening and felt so good to be together amongst 1000 people, waving Israeli flags and singing as one. Our schools have also come together since October 7 for different functions. We were delighted when our son performed in his band as Mount Scopus and Bialik College, another Jewish school, had a musical competition.
Our vibrant Jewish community was built by survivors of the Shoah, refugees who had also experienced horrific events of a very different kind. I adored my Uncle Yossel, a survivor that went through Auchwitz with his brother Baruch. He always said his biggest revenge was his large family. Yossel was so proud when every Neilah (the end of the Day of Atonement service) he stood at the curtains at Elwood synagogue every year with his two sons, his eight grandchildren, and his great-grandchildren.
The synagogue was primarily established by survivors of the Shoah who arrived to this lucky country, fleeing Europe with nothing. Despite the trauma of the Holocaust, they came together and gave back to the community. Strength and unity have helped Jewish people to cope in challenging times. Who could forget the incredible Rabbi, Chaim Gutnick, who inspired his congregation for 45 years with his epic sermons?
Our family has always embraced ‘Yiddishkeit’, tradition and Jewish values. I’m so grateful to my late parents who worked hard to give my brother and me a Jewish education at Mount Scopus. Born in Poland after the war, they weren’t as fortunate to have that. If they were here and would see the anti-Semitism that has spread across the world like a terrible virus, they would be horrified. My mum was subjected to anti-Semitism and violence as a child in Berlin and my dad in Poland. But they and others thought ‘never again’. Never in a country like Australia that welcomed refugees and multiculturalism.
They would have been so proud of my two older children. Both have a strong connection to Israel and our synagogue in Caulfield. They recently received recognition at school for Jewish education, Israel education and leadership. It fills my husband Adam and me with immense ‘naches’ (pride) that they embrace these areas of learning and that we are witnessing the next generation of Jewish leaders. We are especially grateful that they are enthusiastic about attending events in solidarity for Israel. Our youngest child is just nine years old and loves coming and running around our Shule, playing with her friends, and collecting lollies. Just like I did when I was her age. We hope she will embrace Hebrew, her Jewish education and have similar experiences when she goes to the Burwood school campus next year just like her siblings.
My niece, a third-year Law student at ANU in Canberra is passionate about social justice and Jewish education. As co-president and secretary of AUJS (Australasian Union of Jewish Students), she has been a brave upstander during the last twelve months. She has appeared in the media multiple times. She is a significant role model for my children, our family and an inspiration for others of her generation. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Her mum has been doing similar work as an advocate as one of the creators of Project A, a collaboration of women committed to helping Israel, Australia and the world since October 7.
We know how to do the right thing; we know how to value life, and we are committed to Tikkun Olam (repairing the world). Throughout our history, we have experienced plenty of hardship, but we have flourished and thrived, and we will again. As former Prime Minister Ariel Sharon once said, “Israel is a small country, but it is big on ideas and big on spirit.” Israel will rebuild itself. There is so much work to be done; there is immense trauma and loss, but we must have faith and hope. Always.
Am Yisrael chai (the people of Israel live).
