“Lo tachmod – do not covet.” Oh, but I do
covet, I do. Whenever someone mentioned they were making aliyah, my heart did a little flutter. I began to yearn for it. It
meant that we would give up all that we have and know here in Baltimore. And
man, it is a comfortable life.
I
believe everyone has had The Conversation – the do-you-want-to-live-in-Eretz-Yisrael?
convo. Maybe you even went as far as to ask your Rav if it was the right move
for you. Everyone has their reasons for going. Or not going. What makes someone
decide to give up everything and go? I will share my journey with you. Life is
like a book. I will begin with my chapter of coming back to America after
living in Israel.
After
we got married we lived in Eretz Yisrael for six years. Our first three
children were born there. It was challenging, but each day I woke up, and I
felt part of the land. Not to get all airy-fairy, but my neshama (soul) felt
connected. It definitely wasn’t the customer service or the language barrier
that kept me there. Even after six years, my Hebrew skills were meh. My three-year-old
was fluent though!
At
the time, it was in the best interest of our family to move back to America. We
settled in Baltimore, where my husband and I got teaching jobs. My husband has
since moved on to the computer world, and I currently run a playgroup. Eretz Yisrael was a faraway place once again.
* * *
Fast
forward 13 years, four more children and two dogs later, and we are ready to go
back. My children are not ready to move back this coming summer. They want to
move tomorrow! I’ve heard from people that their children are not on board and
that is the reason they can’t go. I am fortunate that my children are just as
excited as we are. What if they weren’t? I would listen to their concerns. They
would have been understood and validated. I would make sure additional
resources or support were in place upon our landing.
“You
are so brave!” people say, knowing we are making aliyah.
“Me?
Why?”
“Because
you are moving with your family to Eretz Yisrael!”
My
response? “Thank you, it’s very exciting!”
In
my mind I am shouting, “You are brave to stay! (I know, passive-aggressive.) We
are Jews; we belong in Eretz Yisrael. What are you still doing here? Doesn’t
your heart tell you to go? Why aren’t you coming home?”
America
has been great to us. I will always have a hakaras hatov (gratitude) for our
time spent in Baltimore. I will also be grateful that I have my clarity goggles
on and can see what is becoming the decline of the very fiber of morality here.
I am ready to close the door. It is a very tempting door to stay behind. Inside
this country’s door are parnassa, schools, friends, family. Can I really
close it and open up a new door? Yes. How?
* * *
I
love to organize and plan ahead. I feel like I am in control when I take the
reins in my hands. I love calendars and alarms to signal daily activities. I
organize the logistics of our family: vacations, carpools, doctor and vet
appointments. You get it. Well, all of that slipped through my fingers during
the past year in everything related to the aliyah
process. The crazy amount of paperwork can cause you to run away screaming.
We
plowed through it. For the past year, my husband and I had “meetings” three
times a week discussing accomplished tasks and next steps. As much as I
pretended I was in control of the process, we hit so many delays and wild goose
chase requests that I said out loud, “That’s it, Hashem! I will do everything
that is required, but I will rely on You to complete our aliyah.”
Our
aliyah status is still in progress.
It’s challenging to rely on our bitachon. It’s the only thing I have
left. When life changes are made leshem Shamayim
(for the sake of Hashem), I have to believe that Hashem will guide me, just
as He has throughout my life.
* * *
Is
it really for Hashem I am going, or is to quench my own thirst for living in
the land of Israel? Well, yes, I do want to live there. Is that my primary
motivation for uprooting our whole family? Resolutely, no. I am doing this ledor
vador, from generation to generation.
My
husband and I had a plan. We were going to retire in Eretz Yisrael, in Netanya.
It sounded ideal. Our children, though, will most likely have put their roots
down in America by then. I meditated on the thought of what the road will look
like in the next generation(s). We are so desensitized to gashmi’us that
the material comforts have become the standard, and the need to have more has
become greater. I do not visualize that it will get more spiritual while living
in this land that has such a foreign ideology and encourages anti-Torah views.
The more soul searching I did, the more I realized that my takfid (holy
purpose) living in America is not in alignment with becoming closer to Hashem.
When I became frum, there was no
internal battle. My neshama (soul) heard the emes
(truth). It was a gradual growth through many opportunities Hashem put in
my path, although the external battles, such as family and social interactions
were sometimes a battlefield to navigate through. That sensation of “this is
the emes (truth)” resonates through me now as I embark on this endeavor.
I feel that I am being called to Eretz Yisrael. I can now visualize my children
and future grandchildren soaking up the ruchni’us
(spirituality) while connecting to their rich heritage.
Hashem
tests all of us. It is part of the journey. When my family and I decided to
pick up and go, we are saying goodbye to all of our comforts and current
reality. I am saying goodbye to the wonderful families that have been part of
my playgroup. I am saying goodbye to friends, my parents, and siblings. Baruch Hashem, I have a Rav who happens
to also be a therapist (BOGO), so not only has he advised us to go, he has
helped me overcome my guilt issues. (Let’s just say my parents have not
embraced our move.)
* * *
So
my heart was doing the little fluttering thing – now what? We go to RBS (Ramat Beit Shemesh) like the
rest of ’em. Easy, right? No, of course not. That would be, well, just too
easy. Our children range in age from seven to nineteen. Two of our kids will be
out of school, but five will be in school. I did my research, and looked into
schools. Some are private ($) and some are chareidi
government schools. Honestly, it was overwhelming. We did narrow down the
choices, but the admissions were no joke. It is not easy to get into the
schools due to the demand of the current aliyah
phenomenon.
Then
we looked into housing. I called at least five English-speaking agents, and my
husband spoke to an acquaintance who is an agent. No one followed up with
listings or called back. I followed up again – and again. We paused our plans. I felt all alone. So, I reached out to the One that split
the sea, the One who planted the seeds and guided me to a Torah-observant life
at the age of 27, the One that brought me my bashert, who grew up in England in a family from India, the One
that blessed me with seven children, bli
ayin hara.
* * *
It
was a Friday evening; I was lighting the candles and pouring out my heart to
Hashem: “I know You want Your people there; I know You want me there; I want to
be there. I just need a bridge. Please help me; send me the bridge, and I will
soar across the skies to get there.”
The
following week, I saw a blurb, a tiny message on one of the gazillion aliyah chats I’m on. It said that Rabbi
Nesanel Cadle, from Yardley PA, will be leading a new brand new community
called Kehilla Chazon Elimelech (KCE) that will be forming its own schools and
shul and will help with job placement in the northern town of Afula.
My
curiosity was aroused. Could this be the same Rabbi Cadle from Baltimore who
started Toras Chaim, where my husband taught a few math classes? Yes, it turned
out it was. We spoke. All the boxes were checked. Language barrier? They are
forming an Amercian community amongst Israelis. The goal is for the children to
acclimate to Israeli society slowly and at their own pace. Schools? KCE is
opening schools for the children of the community. Each one of my children will
have a place. My kids will feel the specialness of being part of the core group
that is creating history. Half day will be dedicated to limudei kodesh and ulpan (spoken
Hebrew lessons), and the other half will be limudei
chol. The ulpan will be intense,
and a high standard of secular studies will be maintained. Teachers are
required to be bilingual so our children will feel understood.
Shul?
They have already created a board of directors and have also provided
sponsorships for a new sefer Torah.
Housing? Two brand-new apartment buildings are being reserved for KCE. What
about the people? We felt reassured when we heard Rabbi Cadle, who is familiar
with the Baltimore community, tell us they are creating a warm inclusive
environment. With that being said, there is an interview process to ensure that
it will be a good fit.
So
are we pioneers? “Pioneer: noun: a person who is among the first to explore or settle a
new country or area.” So yes, that will be us. Should I be nervous? Probably,
but I’m not. I am so excited. I am the adventurous type, the jump in first and
see where I land. Lucky for me, my husband is not and keeps me grounded. But after
doing his research, he came to the same conclusion. Full speed ahead!
* *
*
I want to offer you the opportunity to join my
family’s efforts. In the desert, Moshe offered Bnei Yisrael many opportunities
to contribute to the Mishkan and its furnishings. We are starting a school and
need furnishings – from desks on down. Our shul will be opening, and so
much is needed. Whether you can sponsor a siddur, Chumash, or bench, you
will become our partners.
KCE
has started a Charidy campaign. It would be so meaningful if you could support
our community. You can take this unique opportunity to help us provide for the
children and families in our school and shul by donating to team Solomon: www.charidy.com/kce/TeamSolomon.
Alternatively,
come with us!
For more information
check out: www.israelwithoutwalls.org/kehilla-chazon-elimelech.
Information can also be found at www.operation
homeagain.com/post/afula-illit-community.
