Israeli Chronicles — Connecting Israel & Cincinnati
Home and away: a search for peace in a New Year
It’s that time of the year again.
The weather is changing slowly. The New Year brings Rosh Hashana celebrations and days of self-reflection—the good, the bad and the ugly. What we were, where we are going—all of that together.
I’ve always loved the High Holidays. The spirit of renewal, a new beginning. Waiting for the first rain in Israel. Going camping for a few nights with my immediate family up north, waking up in nature. Celebrating Rosh Hashanah with my extended family, building a sukkah with my Mom (in our house that was always the women’s role!).
And here I am for the third year, celebrating Rosh Hashanah, fasting on Yom Kippur, sitting in a sukkah—here in Cincinnati. It’s that powerful feeling of being both home and away.
This time of the year always makes me a bit nostalgic, reflective, and emotional. But this year, it was also the death of Israel’s former president, Shimon Peres, that boosted all of those thoughts and feelings.
In life there are those moments when you feel it is the end of an era.
You feel that something is changing for good— something ended, and something different and new is about to start.
It happened to me when my grandfather and grandmother died. The realization that I have no more grandparents—that we are “moving up in generations.”
Here was this generation of chalutzim (pioneers), of those who came from all around the world, who experienced the miracle of the creation of the state of Israel. Who experienced all the wars and struggles our country has been through.
And then Peres died.
And although it wasn’t a surprise, since he was hospitalized and in a coma for two weeks, although he was 93, although he was a public figure—his death and the effect it had on me caught me by surprise.
Peres was a dreamer and a believer. He wasn’t just a politician—he was a hard worker. He was a devoted parliament member, a prime minister, an army man. But his glorious days were the ones where he was a part of the peace process agreements, as the minister of foreign affairs, between Israel and Jordan, and especially with the Palestinian Authority. It was a role that earned him a Nobel Peace Prize along with Yitzchak Rabin z”l.
And his seven years as the president of Israel—it was a time of pride. A time that we felt proud as a nation to have such a respectful president—someone so committed to the Israeli society as a whole. Committed to creating alliances for Israel with foreign countries. A president that stayed young and up-to-date, committed and solemn, but also genuine and authentic.
Peres’ death brought me back to my days as a teenager, when his dreams of peace wrapped me in hope and the winds of change washed my country. I miss that teenager, I miss those winds.
Peres’ death forced me to see that that generation of builders, of hard working chalutzim, is coming to an end. It made me realize how we—the second and third generation Israeli-born—we are now the front line. It’s on us. We have to rise to the occasion. We have to work hard, we have to dream, and yes—we have to bring peace.
Shana Tova,
Maia
