It has been many years since I have been in Israel for Sukkot as we usually stay home and celebrate with my mother in law. But this year we had a special occasion, the bat mitzvah of one of my granddaughters, and it was an occasion we were not going to miss. I am certainly no stranger to Israel. My inclusion in the national project spans my own apartment in Netanya to my grandchildren performing Sherut Leumi and some in miluim as we read this article.

My expectations for this trip ranged from fear of my flight getting diverted from missile attacks and missing chag to how excited I was to eat my favorite croissant from the French patisserie in Netanya. I went in with my eyes wide open to what the country is going through and being honest and open to experiencing it all.

After a few days of encountering the roller coaster vibe that reflects the current reality of life in Israel, I found myself asking how it’s possible to go from the joy of celebrating a simcha one minute and running towards a bomb shelter shortly after. Walking shoulder to shoulder through the narrow streets of the Old City in the morning for aliyah l’regel and walking shoulder to shoulder the next morning through the tree lined paths of Har Herzl to attend the funeral of a father of six who was killed in Lebanon. All hearts broke when his 11-year-old daughter, a few months shy of her own bat mitzvah, cried that her father would no longer be able to attend.

Before the sounds of the final military gun salute even cleared, Simchat Torah was beginning. I was walking through my daughter’s Beit Shemesh neighborhood and was drawn to the sounds coming from the Carlebach minyan a few minutes walk from her home. The scene of scores of young men, almost all of military age and many with guns slung over their shoulders, singing and dancing with such intensity brought me to a state of almost complete emotional overload. I watched with tears how these boys were dancing and I stood there in wonderment over just how right it all felt. In all this chaos, this was exactly what was supposed to be happening. Others who don’t understand us may see those boys dancing and mistake their intent—as how could someone dance when such sadness is all around?

I don’t think it would be a stretch to say that every one of those boys knew someone first hand who was either killed on Oct 7, or died or been seriously injured serving in the war that followed. The dancing I was witnessing was the dance of a people who, despite all the conflicting emotions and sadness and pride and pain, have one simple truth that guides them all. They are fighting a just war and they are united with their entire nation in the endeavor. Every one of the moments I experienced in Israel, whether the happiness of the bat mitzvah and the chag, or the sadness of the funerals and death; everyone around you is living through it together. And the feeling is electrifying.

I sat on the plane returning home wondering how it would be possible to come back to life here in America after such an experience. But a strange thing happened right upon landing. I removed my phone from airplane mode and there they were. Calls from my customers, calls from my agents and calls from my friends. There is solace to be felt in Teaneck, however much our hearts are facing east, because there is a community here too that in many ways, albeit quite different, is living a shared fate. And there is my place in it as a real estate agent who gets to help families and friends embed themselves into this community. What a privilege I have to be able to work together with, and for, a community such as ours.

Nechama Polak is the Broker of Record and Owner of V&N Group LLC located at 1401 Palisade Avenue in Teaneck, New Jersey. Send your thoughts and comments to [email protected] or call 201 826 8809.