As I write this, I am looking out at the beach in Tel Aviv. It was not easy to make that happen. Flights that had been confirmed for weeks were cancelled at the last minute and I didn’t really know for certain that we would get here until we landed at Ben Gurion Airport.

When the flight challenges began to arise, more than one beloved person in my life suggested that there was “a message from the universe” in these difficulties, that perhaps it meant that we should not take this trip.

Yet, I knew, in the deepest part of me, that we figure it out, that we would find a way to be here. I knew it because I knew that it was what must be done.

There are many ways in which we show support and concern. There are many ways in which we express our commitments and each of us must choose our own path. For me, at this moment and in these circumstances, I knew that I had to demonstrate my feelings and beliefs by being present.

Not everyone agreed and not everyone will agree but I think there is a mutual understanding that we must follow our hearts. And that is what we are doing here this week.

My connection to Israel was on a different level before my first trip in 2007. I understood the importance of the country as a a place of sanctuary for Jews from all over the world. I understood the critical nature of Israel in a post Holocaust reality but I didn’t fully comprehend what the country meant, and what it would come to mean to me, until I arrived.

I came with my first mission of older adults, a combination of assisted living and nursing home residents, most of whom had longed for a trip to Israel throughout their lives but never had the opportunity. I vividly remember walking down the Via Dolorosa, heading towards our first glimpse of the Kotel, the Western Wall, and being struck by the the truth that Israel is, indeed, the birthplace of all of the world’s major religions. I can recall the faces of our elders as they saw sites that they had longed to see, as they watched their dreams become reality.

Over the course of time, I have had the privilege of bringing five groups of elders and staff to Israel and of visiting one additional time, with a Federation group, that began our journey in Poland and ended in Israel. From that moment until now, I feel a sense of belonging that is palpable. I feel a connection that is rooted in my heart, my soul, my DNA.

This week will be difficult one. It has already had heart wrenching moments as we walked the long hallway in the airport, seeing the standing signs with the faces of each hostage still in captivity. Their innocent, smiling faces reinforce that horror that continues, reinforce my need to show solidarity, to show support. We walked today around Dizengoff Square where photos of the hostages surround the central fountain, the water cascading like endless tears. There are stuffed animals ringing the fountain, around and under the photo displays. Most of them are lions, a symbol of hope that the hostages continue to show a lion’s strength. Many of the photos have faded to pale shadows from the sun, a reminder of how very many days have transpired since this crisis began.

We will visit the nursing homes near Gaza, we will talk with the elders who live there and the staff who care for them. We will put our hands to work as volunteers wherever we can and we will see the memorial sites where the atrocities of October 7 took place. We will, as we must, bear witness. We will, as we must, bring the emotions and the stories home for others to hear and to know.

My prayer is always for a world at peace, for understanding and harmony to be stronger than anger and hatred and violence. May the small ripple we create in the larger pond this week be one that spreads. May we, in some small way, help to fill our own and other’s full hearts.