freshly unfurled beauty. It was almost as if nature
was standing up in a way that the people of Nir
Oz could not, announcing boldly and defiantly
that Am Yisrael Chai, and we will stand vigil until
the time when you can finally return home, and
the healing process can begin.
After several other difficult stops, including the
Nova Festival site and a “car graveyard,” our day
ended at an army base where 60 young women
live, work and train together. We spent the eve-
ning getting to know these brave soldiers, helping
them set aside their frightening reality, if just for a
few hours.
It’s easy to forget how young these heroes are,
18-22 year-olds who are (or will be) risking their
lives, not only out of duty, but also because they
feel so strongly about the State of Israel that they
are willing to put their lives on the line for it.
These are some of the toughest women I have
ever met. However, they spoke to us openly and
animatedly, sharing their fears and the trauma
they’ve experienced in the last eight months. At
the end of the evening, there were hugs and tears

as we said our farewells. We brought them much
needed joy, and they did the same for us in turn.
The world has changed since Oct. 7. My world
has changed. But I didn’t know quite how much
until this experience. During my 10 days in Israel,
I met some of the country’s greatest heroes, men
and women literally putting themselves in harm’s
way to protect our homeland and their fellow
humans. I spoke to the families of hostages and
fallen soldiers whose tangible grief is itself a liv-
ing, breathing entity. I sat with injured soldiers
and listened to their stories, knowing full well that
even once their bodies have healed, their minds
will still have a long, hard road ahead.
I felt conflicted about my love and loyalty for
my surrogate country coupled with my intense
sadness about the ongoing humanitarian crisis
that is devastating the people of Gaza mere miles
away. I cried. A lot. I met 40 incredible women,
and our shared experience will bond us together
forever.
Our collective job now is to synthesize this
experience in a way that we can share, not just in

our own community, but beyond it. It’s import-
ant that people across all ends of the social and
political spectrum know what happened there
last fall, and that in spite of the evil, we are not
victims, but survivors. As one of our speakers,
Ilana Cowland, said, it is our responsibility to be
ambassadors for strength and goodness in our
homeland. “Don’t let the loud mosquitoes make
more noise than the sleeping lion,” she said. “Roar
really loud.”
Every day we have a choice about how we view
and react to the world around us. Ryan Dembs
taught us that. A loving husband, father, brother
and son, Ryan was a faithful Zionist who wore
his faith proudly but privately. I didn’t know Ryan
personally, but he has made an indelible impact
on my life, and I’m grateful to him and his family
for their love, generosity and, most importantly,
their faith in the fact that 41 Zionist lionesses, in
the face of fear, would roar.

Marni Raitt is the Executive Director at the Detroit Jewish News

Foundation.

Mission participants at the Kotel in Jerusalem

18 | NOVEMBER 3 • 2024 Yeshiva Beth Yehudah Special Edition J
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