Oct. 7: From disaster zone to construction site
This is not the day’s main headline — but it should be. Take a look at what is happening right now in Kibbutz Kissufim, step by step:
First of all, the members of Kissufim are coming home. On Oct. 7, 2023, twelve kibbutz residents and six Thai workers were murdered.
Kibbutz member Shlomo Mansour was abducted to Gaza and murdered that same day.
Dozens of homes were destroyed, and public buildings were burned to the ground.
Devastation.
Now, after more than two years, comes rebuilding.
Most of the community had been living temporarily in the town of Omer. Now, Kibbutz Kissufim chairman Lior Carmel has announced that 90% of the residents have decided to return, and that the kibbutz will also welcome new families who would like to join them.
Agriculture, education, infrastructure: everything is coming back to life.
“The kibbutz that once looked like a disaster zone now looks like a construction site,” one of its younger members told me this week.
But something entirely new is happening as well. The young kibbutz member sent me moving photographs.
Seventy-five years have passed since our parents founded this kibbutz, and this week, for the first time, a synagogue was inaugurated here. We decided that we are coming back, but that we also want to come back stronger.”
The ceremony was led by Rabbi Ariel Igra of the nearby community of Shlomit.
“We are brothers,” he said. “The moment you reached out and asked for help establishing the synagogue, I knew exactly what we could do.”
This was Shlomit’s extraordinary contribution to Kibbutz Kissufim:
On Oct. 7, four residents of Shlomit were killed after setting out to defend the nearby community of Pri Gan. They fought off the terrorists and saved the community. In their memory, a beautiful new synagogue was recently built in Shlomit.
“We were delighted to donate the furnishings from our previous synagogue to our friends in Kissufim,” Rabbi Igra told me.
“But only during the ceremony did I tell them who had built and restored them.
“Our friends, the heroes Reuven Sasportas and Bechor Sweid, may their memories be a blessing, who fell in battle on Simchat Torah, were the ones who refurbished the bimah and the Torah ark. Today, that bimah and Torah ark stand in the new synagogue in Kissufim.”
When Rabbi Igra finished telling the story, one of the Kissufim members approached him, visibly moved.
“Do you see this menorah, which we placed here in the synagogue?” he asked.
“It was made by my friend Shlomo Mansour, may his memory be a blessing.”
But it turns out that the Ark from Shlomit has an even longer history.
Rabbi Igra continued: “The ark came to Shlomit from the synagogue of the small community of Shalev in Gush Katif. Eliraz Peretz lived in Shalev, where a synagogue had been established in memory of his brother, Uriel Peretz, may his memory be a blessing. Later, Eliraz himself was killed in battle in the Gaza Strip.
“When the community was tragically destroyed during the 2005 disengagement, the synagogue’s Torah ark eventually found its way to Shlomit. Just think of it: An ark from a synagogue in the destroyed communities of Gush Katif has now arrived at the first synagogue ever opened in Kibbutz Kissufim.
The synagogue dedication continued with the first mincha service. At the entrance to the new synagogue, a mezuzzah was affixed to the doorpost. One of the kibbutz members recited the blessing and then added “Shehecheyanu.”
Rabbi Igra said to him: “Let us stop and think about how meaningful these words are. For me, as a resident of Shlomit; for all of you, whose community’s name, Kissufim, means longing; and for your return to this place.
“You are the representative of the entire kibbutz as you recite ‘Shehecheyanu.’
“My blessing to you is that before long, we will be affixing another mezuzzah to a new and larger building, because this synagogue will no longer have enough room for all the new worshippers.”
Then the words rang out: “Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe, who has granted us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this moment.”
Oct. 7: Sasha and Sapir came home — now building a home of their own
Sasha Troufanov and Sapir Cohen were abducted to Gaza two-and-a-half years ago. Recently they were married and began building a home together in Israel. That sentence is worth re-reading.
Every word spoken beneath the chuppah took on a deeper meaning.
“Behold, you are consecrated to me with this ring, according to the law of Moses and Israel,” Sasha said as he placed the ring on Sapir’s finger.
In interviews after his release, Sasha said: “When I was abducted, my Jewish identity meant nothing to me. The first time I ever put on tefilin was after I was freed from captivity. I did not know there was a G-d. It is incredible. I was abducted because I was Jewish, yet I did not even know what that meant. Today, I do.”
Then came the breaking of the glass. Rabbi Berel Lazar, the chief rabbi of Russia, who has supported the couple and officiated at their wedding, placed the glass on the ground and recalled the surgery Sasha had undergone on his leg after being wounded in captivity.
There he stood, on both feet, healthy, strong, smiling, as he declared: “If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill. Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not place Jerusalem above my greatest joy.”
By then, many were in tears.
Sasha and Sapir were abducted from Nir Oz, but their story is also the story of Jerusalem. They both understand that.
Sapir once told me that her captors would speak to her about Judaism, the Ten Commandments, Jerusalem and Torah. The more she knew, the more unsettled they became. “Ana Yahud,” she would tell them. “I am Jewish.”
One of the terrorists told her he disliked her because she was constantly looking out for the people around her, helping them and bringing “light into the darkness of Gaza.”
He was right.
The seven wedding blessings were recited beneath the chuppah.
Sasha’s mother, Yelena Troufanov, and his grandmother, Irena, were there. Both had also been abducted to Gaza and later returned home. Since then, they have become symbols of faith, hope, and Jewish identity, particularly among Russian- speaking Jews.
One person was deeply missed: Sasha’s father, Vitaly, of blessed memory — he was murdered on Oct. 7.
Once again, the ancient words carried extraordinary meaning, a prayer for all that will now fill this new home, and for the home of the Jewish people:
“Who created joy and gladness, groom and bride, rejoicing and song, delight and celebration, love and fellowship.” Amen. Mazel tov!
Shalom for Charlotte
Have people in Israel heard about Charlotte?” one of my readers in New York asked me. She urged me to write about one of the most talked-about events to have shaken the local Jewish community in recent days.
Charlotte Herzberg, an eight-year-old girl from Monsey, NY, was riding her bicycle near her home when she was struck and killed by a car. The driver, who immediately accepted responsibility for the terrible accident, was the best friend of Charlotte’s father, Yudi.
“At that moment, my wife and I understood that we were facing an enormous challenge and test,” Yudi said in his eulogy for his daughter.
“My best friend did not do this deliberately. It was a terrible accident, and we were not going to allow this tragedy to tear us apart. The Satan was testing us. He wanted to show that our beautiful neighborhood could not withstand machlokes — conflict and division. But the Satan underestimated us. We were going to prove him wrong.”
Yudi and his wife were determined to transform their tragedy into a force for unity and peace among the Jewish people.
The following day, when members of the community came to pay a shiva call, they witnessed an extraordinary sight: Yudi and his best friend — the driver who had struck Charlotte — embracing, crying and literally holding one another up.
Nearby, Chumi, Charlotte’s mother, and the driver’s wife held each other and wept.
Before the shiva ended, Charlotte’s family launched “Shalom for Charlotte,” encouraging Jews everywhere to forgive, let go and move forward. The grieving family is asking people to reach out to friends, relatives, neighbors and colleagues, to release old grudges and resentments, repair broken relationships and then share their stories.
At the time of this writing, 2,435 stories from 42 countries had been posted on the campaign’s website.
We can all choose to assign blame and cling to our grievances, the family says. But instead, they are asking people to “take the pledge and make shalom (peace) for Charlotte. Bring more shalom into the world and help bring mashiach.”
The stories are remarkable.
Two brothers who had not spoken for years began speaking again. Business partners who had been estranged for three months cleared the air and started rebuilding their relationship. A shul that could have been torn apart by the tragedy chose to unite around the campaign. Parents who had become estranged from their son sent him a message saying, “We’re thinking about you, and we hope everything is OK” — and received a response from him for the first time.
During the Three Weeks, we speak often about ahavat chinam — unconditional love. When the “Shalom for Charlotte” website had received “only” 500 stories, Rabbi Elya Brudny devoted a class to the campaign.
“I could give many classes about the importance of creating peace within a community and refining one’s character. But these days, we are witnessing a living lesson before our very eyes. There are extraordinary people among us who are asking us to rise higher.”
