While Hanukkah has arrived, the war drags on here in Israel and our spirits are weighed down with worry—worry for our hostages, our soldiers, the displaced in the North and South of the country, and the innocent facing yet another brutal winter in Gaza. We are burdened by concerns about the future. Since October 7, 2023, we have lost over 800 soldiers, a number that continues to grow. In these dark times, hope feels painfully out of reach.

How, then, do we celebrate the Festival of Lights—Hanukkah? How do we sing our traditional songs and smile at our children and grandchildren when our hearts are so heavy? Our lights feel so dim, so fragile. Our flames seem like mere flickers, threatened by the howling wind and the weight of the grief we carry.

In times like these, we draw strength from those who came before us, those who endured even greater storms. We find inspiration in the resilience of those in the ghettos during World War II, who lit a small twig to honor the holiday despite their suffering. We are also moved by more recent stories, like that of a starving hostage who, upon receiving a piece of dry pita bread, chose to share it with others.

Israel is a democracy, and as such, we often disagree—sometimes passionately—on many issues. Here, everyone is free to voice their, at times, vastly different opinions, and we do so with vigor. Then came October 7, a day that shocked us all to the core and brought us back to the basics.

It was both heartwarming and deeply moving to witness so many young Israelis abroad return home immediately upon hearing of the attack, even before their army units had been mobilized.  They simply knew they were needed and showed up.

Similarly, countless volunteers boarded buses or used their own cars to travel to farms in the south, helping with the harvest and planting efforts. The spirit of volunteerism was both exhilarating and humbling, as people sought to contribute in whatever way they could. We were (are) in this together and we know we need each other to survive and once again, to thrive.

Though fraught with differing views, the population of Israel knew and knows still, that we have an enemy that we must defeat. There was and is no option. In their sickening pride in their apparent “victory”, Hamas declared that they would perpetuate a massacre, “again and again.” We vowed they would not and began the job of dismantling the infrastructure of the terrorist group.

Simultaneously, Hezbollah attacked in the North and the Houthis from Yemen and we found ourselves amid a nightmare, one from which we have not yet emerged. 

And the overwhelming reaction that we see among Israelis is the determination to volunteer. Everyone wants to help in some way.

Groups quickly mobilized to support mothers left at home, offering babysitting services and delivering food. Other organizations raised funds to provide equipment for soldiers. Strangers knocked on each other’s doors to check in, ensuring everyone was okay and offering help to those in need.

Volunteers cooked meals for soldiers stationed at their bases. Some soldiers reported that, in addition to the overwhelming amount of food, there were those who picked up their laundry and returned it, clean and pressed. Psychologists and mental health professionals volunteered their time to help those traumatized by the events at the Nova festival or those who had escaped from the Southern kibbutzim. These same professionals, along with others who were equipped to assist, are offering support to those suffering from post-traumatic stress, often at no cost.

An extraordinary amount of funds and volunteers have been directed to support the soldiers and their families. Anyone with an idea found themselves surrounded by people eager to help. It has been both heartwarming and comforting to witness the country’s unity in the face of such a deadly threat.

As the story of Hanukkah goes, the Second Holy Temple of Israel was overtaken by the Greek Empire. A family known as the Maccabees rose up to reclaim the Temple and succeeded in their fight for survival. However, they found that there was not enough oil to light the Temple's Menorah for its rededication. Only one small jar of oil was discovered. This jar was used, and, to everyone's astonishment and joy, the Menorah burned for eight days! A tiny jar of oil, combined with faith, proved sufficient to last for eight days.

Traditionally, we sing songs and light Menorahs, placing them in the windows of our homes to proclaim to the world that in this home, there is light, warmth, and faith. We are not ashamed of our faith, nor of the fact that, at times, we must fight to preserve what is ours and what God has entrusted to us.

The candles and the light they emit grow brighter each day, starting with one, the helper candle, which lights the first candle, then two, and so on, until there are eight glowing candles. What a beautiful sight it is—eight dancing flames. We don’t hide our faith; rather, we display it with gratitude, firmly rooted in our identity and our destiny.

Often, we may feel as though our contribution is not enough. Perhaps we believe it is too small to make a difference. We may have just a little light, a little strength, a little faith. However, when joined with the contributions of many, it becomes a flame that endures across generations. Together, we will succeed in bringing back our hostages, returning to our homes, and preserving our country and our faith.

Together, we will survive, thrive, and live to share the story with our children and grandchildren.

May your light ever increase.

Happy Hanukkah.