As the war in Israel draws to a close, with the living hostages back home and as we continue to wait for the return of all those still held, our emissaries—Shlicha and Shinshinim—find themselves thousands of miles away, watching, hoping, and holding Israel in their hearts.
These past months have been filled with emotion, pride, and longing. From Colorado, they have continued to share Israel’s story, to comfort and be comforted by this community, and to discover the powerful connection that binds Jews across continents.
In their own words, they reflect on what it feels like to be far from home at such a historic and deeply personal moment for the people of Israel.
Nelly Ben-Tal
For the first time since October 7th, we can finally breathe hope. In the past two weeks, we have witnessed the unimaginable – the return of all living hostages. Yet, 13 of our loved hostages who were killed remain held by Hamas, and their families still wait for the chance to bring them home for a dignified burial. It is a fragile moment – not one of full joy or relief, yet no longer only of anguish and mourning. It is a moment suspended between tears and gratitude, between fear and faith.
This is the moment for which soldiers risked their lives, and for which families marched, cried, and refused to be silenced. It is the moment for which so many of you volunteered, contributed, advocated, and prayed – as one people, in hope. And still, we know the work is far from done. 13 hostages remain in Gaza, and the future remains uncertain.
In these past days, I have felt deeply that October 7th no longer defines who we are – now, is the time we must define what October 7th means in the ongoing Jewish story. This is our turning point: to grieve and to build, to remember and to learn, to survive and to choose life. More than “Never Again,” we now choose “Always Forward.” The work ahead is hard, but it begins with one simple truth – we can only move forward if we do it together.
Maayan Rozenfeld
Being far from Israel right now is hard. There’s no way to sugarcoat it—missing your community during such complicated days, not being there for the people you love—it’s painful.
But so what if it’s hard? We wouldn’t be here if we couldn’t take on challenges. That’s what defines us—as Shinshinim and as the Jewish people.
Our strength lies in knowing that we have a purpose here. And whenever we forget, this incredible community—with its warmth and generosity—reminds us why we came.
*P.S. And the mountains, of course, make it all a bit easier 🙂 *
Alma Elad
It’s never easy to be away from home, especially now—when everyone in my moshav, my community, and across Israel stands together.
Yet, I also feel that being here at this moment carries deep meaning. I get to witness how the Jewish community here comes together in both difficult and joyful times—and to play a part in that.
To represent Israel, to help others understand what’s happening, and to stand with this community has been both grounding and inspiring.
Tomer Eli
October 7th wasn’t just a day—it was a nightmare we couldn’t wake up from.
Living in the U.S. while witnessing the release of the hostages felt like finally waking up, surrounded by the most loving and supportive community we could imagine.
Instead of receiving a hug from Israel, we were embraced by this community—and it was just as warm, just as comforting.
Liraz Bar
Being far from home is never simple. There are moments when I deeply miss the warmth, love, and familiarity of Israel.
When the hostages were released, I longed to be in Tel Aviv, standing in Hostage Square and celebrating with everyone. But then I remembered why I’m here.
It’s meaningful to let people see Israel through my eyes, to be present and engaged in the Jewish community here, and to continue doing what I love most—being a Shinshinit, especially now.
Adi Buchman
Living in the U.S. right now, while so much unfolds in Israel, feels surreal. My body is here, but my heart is there.
It’s hard to be distant during such powerful and emotional times—to see the unity and resilience of the people of Israel and not be physically part of it.
I feel proud and hopeful, but also a bit lost and guilty for being away. Still, I carry that hope with me every day and channel it into my work here.