Nothing Like I Expected, But Everything I Needed

 

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The moment our wheels touched the runway at Ben Gurion Airport, the whole plane cheered.

Thirty years. It had been thirty years since I last felt that indescribable feeling of touching down in Israel, and in an instant, all that waiting dissolved. As I walked through security, a warm, fuzzy feeling of comfort wrapped itself around me. I was finally here. I felt centred, calm, and totally safe—as though I had arrived somewhere I never knew I needed so much.

The Impulse to Return

I work as a Community Support Worker at Hertfordshire Progressive Synagogue, so I see the value of volunteering every day, both for the volunteers and for the people they help. When an opportunity came to spend 10 days volunteering in Israel at a highly subsidised price, I jumped at it.

My youngest daughter was on the traditional free Birthright Israel trip, and every message and photo she sent home filled me with a longing I couldn't ignore. I have no idea why I left it so long. The truth is, life got in the way.

Since October 7th, 2023, we have all felt differently. When I visited the Nova Exhibition in the summer, I knew I couldn't just watch from afar any longer. I needed to get out there and do something to help. For me, this wasn't about politics; it was about people. People living in a country that changed forever on the day of that horrific attack—a country living in trauma, still trying to rebuild after suffering so gravely.

"Israel Tour for Old People"? Think Again!

To be totally honest, I thought I'd be doing a bit of fruit picking, perhaps some factory work, and then have lots of free time in Tel Aviv. I thought it would be like Israel tour for old people!

I couldn't have been more wrong. It was harder, more demanding, and more physical than I ever imagined. And it was one thousand times more fulfilling.

Our guide was the wonderful Reut (whose name I could never quite pronounce, though if you can roll your r's, it sounds so much better!). Reut coined the phrase "resting smiling face", and her energy was infectious. Even when she dragged us out of bed at uncivilised o'clock, she made it fun. Everything on her agenda was about connection and community, binding us together until we felt like teenagers again at youth club.

"What we achieved—a bunch of over 50s with a variety of ailments—was simply unimaginable."

• Forestry & Conservation: We cleared trees in forests and planted new ones.

• Creativity & Kindness: We made jewellery from scratch and walked rescue dogs.

• Hard Work: We cleared out sheds to create a dining room space, worked alongside people with physical disabilities, and got hands-deep in cow compost.

I smiled through every minute of it. Who says you can't take the girl out of Radlett?!

Roommates, Early Starts, and Unbreakable Bonds

This was no relaxing holiday. Three of us shared one small room with a tiny bathroom, and we had a strict twenty-five minutes for all of us to be showered, dressed, and ready for whatever hideously early start lay ahead.

And yet, I knew I needed to hold on to every single second. I knew that once I was home, I'd miss my roommates. I'd crave our late-night chats and our "floordrobe" full of packing cubes. Only the people on that trip would ever truly understand what we had shared.

Moments of Reflection: Dizengoff Square & The Nova Site

Experiencing October 7th while in Israel was bittersweet. While friends and family back home were watching news of pro-Palestinian marches, the mood in Tel Aviv could not have been more different.

There was no hate. There was no violence. There was just sadness.

In Dizengoff Square, a group of young people gathered with their musical instruments and began to sing. Their beautiful voices carried through the streets as people gathered round, placing tealights one by one until they formed a heart. It was mesmerising. I will carry that feeling with me until the day I die.

The next day we visited the Nova site, and the sadness settled deep in the pit of my stomach. Every single beautiful face smiled back at me as I wandered through the grounds. So many faces. Young lives, lives only just beginning. I thought of my own daughters. I watched the IDF patrolling the area and saw the grief on their faces, the despondence in their eyes.

I saw it again and again throughout the trip: grown adults, IDF chiefs, and usually happy, smiley Israelis falling apart the moment they spoke about that day. A whole nation is still in the depths of trauma. It was a hard day for all of us, but we processed it together, and we held each other up.

Small Country, Immeasurable Impact

As the days went on, every task meant more. The gratitude we were shown was humbling. The slight arrogance I remembered from previous visits had gone, replaced by warmth and heartfelt appreciation. Every single person thanked us for giving up our time and money to come.

Individually, we did so little. Collectively, we made a difference. And that meant everything.

When we arrived in the north and could see Lebanon staring down at us, Israel suddenly seemed so small. So small, and yet so significant. In that moment, my love for this tiny country made total sense. I don't know if I believe in magic, but if I do, this is what magic would feel like. I breathed in the air, and it felt like medicine.

A Healing Journey

I went to Israel to help. I came home knowing I had been helped, too.

I waited thirty years to return, and I never knew how much I needed it until I was standing there. Israel needed us, and we were there.

Thank you, Birthright Israel. You have given me so much more than you will ever know.

By Julie Levene