Birthright Israel is excited to announce their first group arrived in Israel on May 24, 2021,…
My journey to Israel started when I was only nine years old. I had just begun Hebrew school and found out what Israel was from my teacher. When I got home I asked my father if he had traveled there, he said yes and that I would “go home one day.” At the time, I didn’t understand what he meant.
Fast forward to 9 years later; I’m 18 and friends of mine started traveling to Israel on this free trip they were calling “Birthright.” They told me that as Jews, it was our given right to visit Israel and because so many generous people believed in this trip, they donated so that people like me could go on Birthright Israel for free – as long as you were under 26-years-old.
It sounded too good to be true.
A few years later, I thought, maybe it’s not, so I applied, interviewed and was accepted. I asked my boss who managed the surf shop I worked at, and he told me I could go, but there wouldn’t be a job waiting for me when I got home. Out of fear, I declined the generous offer and didn’t go. Then two months later, the surf shopped closed its doors.
I applied for Birthright Israel again at 26. I went through the process and was lucky enough to be accepted for the second time. One week before the trip, the Paris attacks happened, and out of fear, I declined. Then I turned 27. I had aged out of the program.
Finally, at 29-years-old I learned Birthright Israel was accepting applications for 27-32-year-olds to attend.
Now, this seemed too good to be true! I had spent years upset with myself for not going once, but twice when I had the chance. It looked like I had another shot, and this time I wasn’t going to let fear—or anything—get in the way of finally going to Israel. So, for the third time, I applied, interviewed and was graciously accepted.
“Luckily my instinct was right because the seven days I spent 6,000 miles away from New York City were the most magical and memorable moments I’ve ever had.”
Before the trip, I didn’t research or dig too deeply into our itinerary. Not because I wasn’t excited, but because I wanted to go surprised, without any expectations. Luckily my instinct was right because the seven days I spent 6,000 miles away from New York City were the most magical and memorable moments I’ve ever had.
From the start of my trip when I arrived at JFK airport and was welcomed by my new friends, to when we touched down in Tel Aviv and met the Israelis who would join us on our journey, there was a fulfilling sense of love and friendship in the air. It was instant and natural; something I had yet to experience. An experience that seems unlikely I’ll ever have again.
“Making connections that are equally unique as they are strong is one of many gifts I received from Birthright Israel Foundation…”
Making connections that are equally unique as they are strong is one of many gifts I received from
Other gifts I can recount are visiting museums, cemeteries, fortresses, and holy walls—and having the chance to be educated and then the opportunity to have open conversations about our feelings, thoughts, and opinions with one another.
It’s clear that my time to visit wasn’t when I was 22, or 26. I was meant to go on this trip, to meet these people, to have this experience at 30. At this time in my life I know who I am and can say with certainty that I have a deeper appreciation for Israel going as an adult, then I would have if I was younger.
“It turned out my father was right. When I went to Israel, I was home.”
If I had one wish, it would be that everyone would experience the power, beauty, and wonder of Israel. This trip is a true gift and one that I will be eternally grateful for and remember for the rest of my days. It turned out my father was right. When I went to Israel, I was home.
So, if you’re still with me, I think it is important to recount not only the sights I saw but the insights I gained. As the International VP of Education at Taglit-Birthright Israel, Dr. Zohar Raviv says, “This trip is not about sight-seeing, it’s about insight-seeing.”
Yad Vashem:
The world’s first Holocaust Remembrance Center, founded by those who survived the horror to remind the world that an event like that can never happen again. Yad Vashem filled me with sadness and sorrow and at times left me weak, but the more we know about the Holocaust, the more knowledge we can share with others to ensure that it was a one-time-only tragedy.
Mount Herzl:
A cemetery that’s ironically filled with growth and life with help from the picturesque trees and flowers planted nearly everywhere is the resting place for our fallen soldiers and political leaders. We had the honor of hearing personal stories from our Israeli friends and had the chance to pay our respects to Prime Minister Rabin, who was assassinated at the same rally where he was preaching and praying for peace, and Theodor Herzl, the visionary who dreamt of an Israeli state but never lived to see the reality. I’ll always remember seeing how sad Arielle, our guard, was so I asked her what she was thinking, and she said, “I haven’t been here in five years, and I’m devastated to see how many more graves have been dug since.” Hearing that was like a knife to the heart, and although it gave me feelings of deep sadness to see how much and how many have been taken from us, at the same time, it made me prouder than ever to be a Jew.
Masada:
The 2,000-year-old fortress is as high as the sky, deep in the desert overlooking the Dead Sea. The majestic mountain we hiked and, at its peak, sat for a history lesson (a fascinating and engaging one, thanks to Guy) all before the sun rose. The very place that was once an ancient kingdom that now stands in ruins is also the sacred ground where I witnessed the Bat and Bar Mitzvahs of a handful of my new family members. Mazel tov, friends!
The Western Wall:
The holiest place on the planet, where people from all across the world come to pray and wail with the hope of leaving with more peace than they arrived with. The most significant symbol Jewish people have that proves no matter what happens, we’ll always remain standing. This is where I’ll always remember watching Aaron and Alex lead our service, overlooking the wall in front of our whole group. And where I’ll remember leaving a note in the wall’s crevice, praying that G-D looks after the ones I’ve always loved and my new family, who I’ll love from this day on.
