By Shlomit Nazar
In the song “Prayer,” the late, great Ofra Chaza sings in her perfectly crisp voice for God to keep us like children and “give us light and the joy of youth.”
It’s a prayer many of us wish for ourselves, and we take it for granted that children can effortlessly embody a carefree spirit as they navigate their young lives unencumbered by the burdens of adulthood.
This is true for most children, but not the ones who lived in the Gaza Envelope on Oct. 7.
These children witnessed unspeakable horrors and have managed to silently soldier through the better part of the year living in hotels, studying in tents that served as makeshift classrooms and hoping that when they shut their eyes at night, they won’t relive the evils of that day.
My family experienced this personally. As a resident of Moshav Tekuma and a mother of five, I knew the struggle of having your whole life change overnight. On Oct. 8, we moved to Eilat and stayed at a hotel there for nearly five months. Then we moved to Kibbutz Gvulot, but due to a shortage of available schools, I had to teach in tents. I understood then that my primary duty after the massacre was not to teach but to be a shoulder to cry on.
Although many of the kids couldn’t truly concentrate and focus on their studies, I could tell they craved the structure school afforded them. Yet most just yearned to go back home.
Amid this difficult year, the Jewish Agency and Mosaic Teens—a division of Mosaic United, in partnership with the Foundation for Jewish Camp and the Jewish Federations of North America—launched “Campers2Gether,” an initiative that brought more than 1,000 Israeli teenagers who have been displaced or otherwise affected by the Iron Swords War to Jewish camps in North America and across the Jewish world this summer.
I was privileged to be a counselor for some of these students at Camp Ramah in the Berkshires in Wingdale, N.Y. There, these children were able to be kids again.
For two weeks, I accompanied 20 Israeli children attending camp with North American children. Most of them were students I had taught at Nofey Habsor in the Gaza Envelope. I have taught there for 15 years and have known some of my students for even longer. We came into this experience together with a high level of familiarity and trust. And I was determined to empower them with an opportunity they so urgently needed—an opportunity for all of us to decompress; find comfort in one another; and most importantly, for the children to learn what it’s like to be free of worries, even if temporarily.
Campers2Gether is the Jewish community’s response to the realities many Jewish youth must face. In Israel, Jewish children are living against the backdrop of war. In North America, Jewish children are living under the looming cloud of rising antisemitism. These two demographics need each other now more than ever.
The holistic experience provided the children, ages 14-16, activities that helped them connect to Jewish values, culture and traditions, while also helping them regain their confidence and self-esteem in a world turned upside down.
Every professional I encountered understood the gravity of the situation, which is why before I arrived in New York I received trauma-informed care training to help attune them to Campers2Gether participants’ backgrounds post-Oct. 7.
The experience was exhilarating, especially since many of the children had never been to the United States. When we first arrived, we toured New York City, and I saw the kids marvel at the majestic surroundings there. Yet the excitement of seeing New York for the first time paled in comparison to the kids being welcomed by their North American peers upon their arrival. The American teens broke into song when my cohort arrived. They not only made them feel wanted but also that they’d be a much-needed addition to their summer experience.
Like most camp experiences, the days were filled with swimming in the lake, archery, football, volleyball, tennis and cooking classes. At night, the American and Israeli campers would sit with each other in their cabins to play and sing.
But I truly cherished the quiet moments I got to spend with the teens one-on-one, where I hope I was able to give them the support they needed. One teen, for example, arrived at the camp on edge and tense, with almost every encounter prompting her to have some sort of confrontation. One day, I took her aside and asked her why she was so angry. She told me that on Oct. 7, terrorists entered her house while her family barricaded themselves in their bomb shelter. They heard the terrorists ransack and destroy their homes only for them to abandon them and look for their next victims.
Despite that traumatic event, even she was able to let the camp experience transform her, and I saw a noticeable change in her demeanor over those two weeks. Being at camp helped her disconnect from the world, channel positive energy and see that there is good in the world. During her time with us, she focused on the present, not the past, and was able to think about what she hopes for the future.
For Israeli children and adults who have been traumatized by the horrors of Oct. 7, the prospect of fully healing is a tall order. There is no telling how long the process may take, or if it will ever be possible to complete. But at camp in North America, we discovered that we are remarkably resilient. And just for a moment, we found a sense of inner peace.
