“My Israeli Story”, a project by the JEWISHcolorado’s Israel & Overseas Center, offers our community a chance to connect with and learn about the diverse stories of our emissaries. Each feature will spotlight a different shinshin and their family’s unique journey.
I come from a diverse family, shaped by generations of resilience, sacrifice, and a shared love for Israel. My paternal grandmother was born in Haifa just six months after the state of Israel was established. Her father (my great-grandfather) immigrated to Israel from Poland, driven by Zionist ideals, leaving his family behind. A decade later, the Holocaust took everything—his entire family was murdered. My grandmother was raised to be a proud Israeli, carrying the weight of that loss while instilling strength and national pride in her children and grandchildren. During the COVID-19 pandemic, she set out to uncover more about her family’s history through extensive research. As a result, they were officially recognized by Yad Vashem as Holocaust victims.
My paternal grandfather was born in Sweden to two Holocaust survivors who fled Germany in 1941. At 18, he made Aliyah, determined to live in a place where being Jewish wasn’t a reason for fear. He settled in Haifa, drawn to its mountains and sea, and met my grandmother. Together, they moved to Jerusalem to study at the Hebrew University. When we ask if he ever considered returning to Sweden, he always says that, despite the challenges of adapting and learning a new language, he never considered going back. “Sweden is not my home anymore—Israel is,” he declares. As a child, my father struggled with his dad’s foreignness—the accent, the unfamiliar foods. But over time, he came to admire his resilience. Today, my dad is proud of his father and tries to learn as much as possible about his origins. Every Saturday, we visit my grandfather for brunch, where he always prepares something Swedish for us to try.
Joachim, Yuval’s grandfather in Sweden
Yuval’s great-grandparents in Sweden
On my mother’s side, my grandfather was born in Israel just four days before the state’s establishment. His parents, who fled Ukraine and Poland, never spoke about their past, choosing to focus on building the future. For much of his life, he did the same. But after my grandmother passed away, he began opening up, sharing stories, and even trying to trace any surviving relatives. For him, the most important thing is for us to remain a strong, united family—a legacy he believes his parents would have wanted after the Holocaust.
Lidya, Yuval’s grandmother as a child in France
My maternal grandmother was born in Morocco, she was only two when rising antisemitism forced her family to flee to France. After a decade, still feeling like outsiders, they made one more move—to Israel—choosing Jerusalem for its sacredness and sense of belonging. Even as she embraced life in Israel, she carried her heritage with her. She spoke only Hebrew to her children but filled her kitchen with the flavors of Morocco and France. She played Edith Piaf as she cooked, blending cultures in the most beautiful way.
Growing up, I adored her food, her music, and the stories she shared about her childhood. After she passed away, I spent more time with my great-grandmother, who gave me an even deeper glimpse into our family’s journey. She spoke about the hardships of immigrating twice in one lifetime, of learning new languages and adjusting to different cultures. But despite everything, she always said, “Israel finally felt like home.”
Yuval’s grandmother, Lidya, visiting her husband Yigal, Yuval’s grandfather, in Egypt during the Yom Kippur War, two weeks after they got married
Now, living outside of Israel myself, I understand what it means to be an outsider. But I also carry my family’s stories with me—their struggles, their resilience, their unwavering connection to Israel. And just like them, I know that no matter where I go, Israel will always be home.