When you talk with Israeli women from Ashkelon, Israel’s largest city closest to the Gaza Strip, when you listen to them recite the horrors of October 7, you hear overwhelming sadness from a collective feeling of betrayal.
Palestinians employed by Israelis, some brought into their homes, some even transported to medical services deep inside Israel, these Gazans were at the forefront of the barbaric attack, pinpointing specific homes and families to brutalize and kill, even to the absurd result that one kibbutz family with plans to be away that day escaped the terror their neighbors endured because they had postponed their trip without telling their Palestinian worker, so he told fellow terrorists the house was empty and need not be attacked.
The betrayal cannot be forgiven. Severed, possibly forever, is a measure of trust that will take perhaps generations, if ever, to resurrect.
Who will lose out? Israel will find replacement workers for their fields and factories, for workers and caregivers in their homes. The country is nothing if not resourceful.
But from whom will Gazans, even the ones who reject Hamas, find relief? Income? Medical services not available in the Gaza Strip, surely not since much of it has been reduced to rubble? The bridge between cultures has been destroyed.
For the last 10 days six women from Ashkelon were guests of Shalom Yisrael of Westchester, a reward for volunteer work they do in their community along the Mediterranean coast. They enjoyed an ever so brief respite from the sounds of war, the impact of missiles evading Israel’s Iron Dome defense system.
A slight correction. Even touring New York they were reminded of the war. New Yorkers are used to seeing helicopters, in the air, taking off, landing. But to Israelis, helicopters along the Hudson and East Rivers were associated with military activity, with emergency crews bringing wounded to hospitals.
Before October 7 Yona had left her home to visit family. October 7 was not just the sabbath. It was a holiday, Simchat Torah. Until she returned days later she had no idea a rocket had hit her home. Ashkelon has the unenviable distinction of being the Israeli city most targeted by terrorist rockets.
Clara’s overnight nursing shift was to end at 7 am. But many emergency room nurses and doctors did not show up that morning, so a call came in to her upper floor station for help. Clara spent the next 24 hours attending the wounded.
She had served as a nurse during combat in 1984. She was familiar with seeing wounded soldiers. But these injured were different. They were mostly civilians, poring into the ER not singly by ambulance but in droves, sometimes six to ten stuffed into any vehicle that could rush them to the hospital.
Since 2010 I have been involved with Shalom Yisrael, a 35-year-old volunteer organization that strives to build lasting bonds between Israelis and Americans through annual visits by deserving Israelis, not because they are heroes but rather because they tirelessly, unselfishly, give back to their communities.
This year’s six guests predominantly volunteer for an organization, Haken, that counsels women from families in distress. Indeed, one of our guests received such counseling and now provides it to other needy women.
During their 10 day visit they toured New York, took a Circle Line cruise, saw a matinee of “Water for “Elephants,” ate in Chinatown, rode the subway and Metro North, and, most importantly, told their stories to teenage students at Westchester Hebrew High School, the Leffell School and Temple Israel Center of White Plains, and to staff of Westchester Jewish Community Services.
They went home today. Clara, Yona, Malka, Leah, Valerie and Sigal will arrive back in Israel Thursday full of memories, knowing they imparted memories in all they met.
