Paula Haras: Reflection on My Week in Israel

Reflection on My Week in Israel

By: Paula Haras

As I sat in the pain after the trauma that followed Jews everywhere around the world like a shadow of darkness post-October 7, I fought with the uncomfortableness within myself as to how to go about daily life as a kindergarten teacher who is Jewish in a world that has suddenly been turned upside down.

Daily I arrived at work using every bit of willed effort I could fabricate to behave professionally, do my job and maintain somewhat friendly. As days passed, I grew more and more angry by the silence of colleagues who went about their normal lives while Synagogues here in Canada became targets of vandalism, and chants on the streets calling for the death of the Jews became normalized. It seemed the only thing I could feel towards the silence I saw was anger and I didn’t even know what to do with all this anger.

One night on my endless scrolling on social media to numb myself through avoiding the hostilities of reality, I came across a post on a friend’s Facebook reading that there was a UJA trip to Israel for educators who work in the public school system. I immediately showed interest. It was obvious to me that I needed to go home and be with my family and so it started, a purpose, a goal, a positive hope to keep me going and something to look forward to that would hopefully get me through the difficult days… I was waiting to go to the Promised Land to feel connected with people who shared the same feelings as me about the war, about Judaism, about so many things, and what better opportunity than to do that with other educators who already have so many things in common with me. Just the thought of going to Israel felt like a gift. The spiritual connection started before I even got there.

After months of waiting, the time finally came. I packed my suitcase. I was going home.

My mission trip (Binat Halev) had begun, a blessing that I will never forget. This particular trip was a mission trip where educators from Canada, and group leaders from JFC-UIA and UJA would experience heavy, emotional content that has now been embedded in my DNA.

We went into Kibbutz Be’eri where we met with Lotan Pinyan who survived the Hamas attack on October 7. He told us about the atrocities that took place on this kibbutz and we heard about the murders, slaughters and burning alive of people in his community. We stood in the burnt-down home of his in-laws, who were also killed by Hamas on this day, while he told us what happened to them.

The kibbutz was a community of 1000 people. 450 Terrorists came into the kibbutz and raped and murdered 101 people. As well, 11 people were brutally kidnapped by Hamas and of that 11, 5 were also killed in captivity. (These numbers include only the atrocities and murders of this kibbutz. The number of people murdered and taken into captivity as hostages is much higher as it happened in other kibbutz and at a music festival for peace).

What Lotan also mentioned is that the homes that seemed to be targeted first were those that had signs that kids lived in the house like for example, a bike or toys in the front of the house.
This is the thinking of Terrorists. Heartbreaking to hear but the stories must be heard because they are not just stories. These are people’s families and friends. Their stories must be told and remembered.

We also went to the site of the Nova Festival. What I saw there is nothing I can put into words.

The Nova Festival…It was the part in the nightmare on October 7, where the Hamas terrorists massacred innocent young people at a musical festival that was at a concert about peace.
As I walked off the bus, I heard background sounds of war because this site is very close to the Gaza border).

It is important to note that while this October 7 massacre happened in Israel, not all the victims killed on this night at the concert were Jewish or Israeli. It was a concert about peace so the range of young people there was a collection of groups and nationalities. Hamas didn’t select and just killed as many peaceful people as possible. The faces on the posters of the victims became blurry as I walked on the site, I couldn’t help but think of my daughters and how easily they would have been there themselves, had they been in Israel at the time.

During my stay in Israel, I also had the opportunity to hear the testimonies from Adi’s parents (Yaron and Jacqui) I then heard testimony from Galit Lapidot, the aunt of Tiferit Lapidot who was one of the young women kidnapped and killed from Nova festival by Hamas.

I also attended the Torah dedication ceremony for Hersh Goldberg-Polin and heard his mother speak, surrounded by a crowd of love and support. Their strength is one of which I’ve never seen. Their strong message is that we listen and keep telling their stories.

While hearing testimonies and stories and facts of people’s nightmares of October 7, I came to a realization that was unique about the people of Israel. There was something very much in common with almost every testimony of horror told: it was mind-blowing that every victim, or survivor, or family member, or witness spoke about how everyone in the moment of terrifying fear, helped one another. People did the most courageous unthinkable selfless acts to help whoever they could, and unlike any other war or catastrophe, the people of October 7 were running towards the war, towards the danger. It sounded almost unheard of because when there is danger of any kind, it is an instinct to run away from the danger, but instead of the fight or flight, there was a man-made miracle of people coming towards the Nova Festival, towards the Kibbutzim, towards the danger. People in other countries were joining the Israeli army. In Israel right then and there it dawned on me how much of a family we are and how much we stand together.

I have learned the extraordinary lesson that Israel is a nation of incredibly resilient people. The strength, spirit, and positive energy that they have even after everything they’ve been through is truly unmatchable.

Even in the most difficult of times, they shine their light as bright as they can and elevate hope.
They take their light and pass it to others around them and together, brighten the world.

A magnificent magic. Even after everything they have been through, I saw singing, dancing, and acts of mitzvot, wherever I went in Israel. They are guided by hope and use their hope as a goal to make things better they lift themselves limitlessly and bring others along with them. I must be clear that this was not my first time in Israel. While Israel is special whenever one goes, this time was different. This journey was healing. I left Canada feeling angry and isolated and arrived in Israel where the people I was with, the coordinators of my trip, and the people I met in Israel began to feel like a family it was interesting how in the same way a small child who is sad, finds comfort from his mother… my inner scared child inside me needed Israel. There is something very spiritual about being at the Kotel with other educators from Canada who also had a difficult year, hugging each other, and crying together. There is something truly magical about sharing experiences and ideas with facilitators, Rabbis, and peer educators. A Week of respect and love, compassion with tears and laughter, prayers, lessons, and fears turning into hope, good food, history, religion, and a l’chaim or two all in the promised land.