(Courtesy of B’ezri) “Where were you on Oct 7?” For most of the Jewish world, the question has become this generation’s “Where were you on 9/11?”

It’s been over 18 months since the horrors of October 7 shattered the heart of the Jewish nation, but for many, the war is far from over. The terror, destruction and displacement that began on that dark day have left deep wounds—physical, emotional and economic—that continue to shape daily life for thousands of Israeli families.

As hundreds of thousands of reservists are being called up again and we emerge from Yom Ha’Atzmaut celebrations, this article offers a powerful perspective from Israel’s volunteer gabbai tzedakah network—community members who, without pay or recognition, serve as a lifeline for families in need across the country. Embedded in neighborhoods and deeply connected to established aid organizations and municipal welfare offices, these volunteers are often the first to identify urgent cases. In the aftermath of October 7, they mobilized swiftly, ensuring that help reached displaced civilians, struggling reserve soldiers and communities still under fire. Their grassroots efforts, grounded in trust and familiarity, have brought life-saving support to thousands. They’re the eyes and ears on the ground, witnessing the quiet struggles behind closed doors.

American Friends of Yad Eliezer (AFYE)/B’ezri, a Jerusalem-based charity that’s been serving the needy population across Israel for over forty years, was there right at the start of Swords of Iron, springing into action and distributing emergency assistance from U.S. and Canadian donors, mere hours after news of the tragedies became available and the unimaginable conflict erupted. They spoke with several of their 100+ volunteer tzedakah gabbaim from communities across the country to understand the far-reaching impacts of the war, sharing their eye-opening and often heartbreaking insights below.

From the Battlefield to the Home Front: A Gabbai’s Story

Aryeh Goldberg, a resident of Itamar and a ‘miluimnik’ (reservist) himself, was stationed on the northern border when he received an unexpected call. “I was in the middle of combat when I got a message from someone at American Friends of Yad Eliezer / B’ezri, with whom I partner closely to coordinate their distributions throughout Yehuda and Shomron, saying, ‘Listen, we have a fund. We want to distribute a million shekels to reservist soldiers and families who need help.’”

It was right before last Pesach and I told him, ‘This is crazy!’ You know, in the middle of a war, suddenly having the chance to do something like this.

But of course, we went ahead; in our outpost, a few of us set up a kind of makeshift command center, and we started reaching out to reserve units across the entire army. We used our connections — commanding officers, regional commanders, and more—to identify battalions.

In the end, we reached 50 battalions all over the country, from the North to Gaza. It was insane. This whole operation was just crazy: the logistics, tracking down contacts, coordinating everything in the midst of war. But people were so moved. They saw that someone cared. Think about it—a mother at home, struggling with the kids, her husband’s business is on hold and suddenly she receives a voucher for the holiday. It’s huge.

And then, as we were wrapping up, AFYE/B’ezri called me again and said, ‘Aryeh, we have good news.’

I asked, ‘What is it?’

‘We just got another 400,000 shekels to distribute.’

I was like, ‘Wow.’ Of course, I was thrilled! Baruch Hashem, it was amazing… a huge success: Over 1,400 soldiers and their families’ received vouchers for the holiday. It was an absolutely incredible project. And later, people who weren’t part of the distribution started reaching out for help, because they had heard about us and the work of American Friends of Yad Eliezer / B’ezri, which built even more connections for those in need.”

Unexpected Moments of Spiritual Awakening

Aryeh recalls a different impact the war had on many of his comrades: the spiritual awakenings. “We didn’t have a single soldier in the unit who was religious, and we were stationed somewhere deep in the northern border, along trenches in the middle of a forest.

Suddenly, there was a siren, and the soldiers began shouting ‘Shema Yisrael!’ with one particular soldier shouting it along with them. A rocket then fell exactly where they had been standing, just as they jumped into the trench.

This was a really strong, tough guy. His whole life revolved around practical, physical things, but this experience had a profound spiritual impact on him. He told his friend he wanted to get tefillin; he wanted to start putting them on.

This soldier found his way to me, asking if I could somehow get tefillin for him. I reached out and within just a couple of intense days, the tefillin arrived through American Friends of Yad Eliezer/B’ezri. It was incredible. This was a guy covered in tattoos, the kind of person you wouldn’t expect to want tefillin, and suddenly, in the middle of the base, for the first time in his life, he put on tefillin. It was an extremely emotional and powerful moment. The battalion commander himself gave him the tefillin. It was incredibly moving.

There were other similar stories. A “tankist” (soldier in the tanks unit) contacted me, he went through an extremely difficult experience in Khan Yunis. He came out of it, b”H, and he decided he wanted to start putting on tefillin. So again, I reached out to AFYE/B’ezri and they immediately helped. This soldier also committed to putting on tefillin regularly.”

From Stability to Sudden Need

Debra K. has spent months helping families across Gush Etzion navigate the ongoing challenges of war. A mother of two IDF soldiers herself, she has seen firsthand how difficult it is for those with a loved one—whether a son, brother, husband or uncle—serving on the front lines. Through her work, she realized something striking: sometimes people don’t even know what help they need until it’s knocking at their door.

“American Friends of Yad Eliezer/B’ezri has been checking in with us throughout the war to keep on top of families’ situations. A few months ago, they reached out again and asked if there was anyone injured in my neighborhood who needed help. And actually, my neighbor a few doors down, their son Moshe,* a 30-year-old father of three little kids, was seriously hurt in Gaza.

“At first, I didn’t think he’d need anything. He had recently started his career as a lawyer, so I was sure his firm was covering his leave, I didn’t think there would be a need there. But it turns out Moshe’s injury was really severe. His wife can’t work because of the situation at home. She had just started a job herself, but wasn’t there long enough to get pitzuim (severance), and there was simply no income. The couple had substantial childcare costs for all the hours Moshe’s wife had to spend with him in the hospital, and that continues even now during his rehab. The family was being drained; they couldn’t pay their mortgage. They needed urgent adaptations for the house. There was no money for bills and they were embarrassed. They didn’t want to go to other people for help and they were just really stuck.

“People think, ‘Oh, he’s got his money from the army’… and they do pay a salary when you’re injured but it’s not the same. It’s just not enough.”

Moshe’s is the perfect example of a family, previously stable, that was thrown into sudden need, despite appearances from the outside that they should be functioning normally. AFYE/B’ezri provided them with supplemental support to keep them from going under, the extra help that was desperately needed.

“There are so many families quietly struggling—people who aren’t necessarily reaching out or asking for help. But that doesn’t mean they don’t need it,” Debra explains.

Debra has come to appreciate how essential it is to have an infrastructure in place that anticipates these needs. “Sometimes you don’t even realize what kind of support you’ll need until you’re in the middle of it. And you certainly don’t know who to turn to. But AFYE/B’ezri is always there, figuring it out before people even think to ask.”

In times of crisis, when the ripple effects of war reach deep into every corner of Israeli society, that kind of readiness can make all the difference.

Trauma Beyond the Battlefield

The psychological toll of the war has been staggering. In cities like Ofakim—one of the hardest-hit areas on October 7—mental health professionals are overwhelmed by the demand for therapy.

“We used to get requests for school supplies, dental treatments, help with weddings,” said Asher Zaritsky, a gabbai tzedakah in Ofakim who assists families all across the South. “Now, almost all the requests are for mental health support—for children and adults. No one is escaping this.”

Experts estimate that 3 million Israelis are experiencing symptoms of PTSD, anxiety and depression. Some children are showing severe trauma responses: bedwetting, speech regressions and night terrors. Many parents, consumed with stress, have had to start medication to cope.

Asher shares the story of a community member who was involved in the aftermath of the towns hit hardest on October 7. When he returned to his role as a fifth-grade teacher, he shut the classroom door and ran out. He shared with Asher, “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t enter the classroom. Instead of seeing my students, I saw dead bodies.” Now, on top of the psychological trauma, he faces the added burden of losing his job.

Beyond the difficult mental health impacts, war trauma affects other social aspects of daily life.

“How many marriages have suffered because of this? How many children have fallen behind in their studies because of this? No one can understand what a child goes through after having to hide at home for days because there are terrorists in the streets. It takes years and years to heal from this.

If someone is under the impression that the war’s challenges are calming down, they simply don’t live on this planet.”

Help Today, Hope for Tomorrow

Beyond the thousands of injured IDF soldiers like Moshe, whose families now face new realities, countless others remain in active service risking their lives while their spouses struggle to keep homes running. Displaced families still grapple with uncertainty and hostage families continue their tireless advocacy, often at the cost of their livelihoods. Many small business owners affected by the war face collapse. The rising costs of groceries, utilities, mortgages and taxes have made staying afloat harder than ever. And all of this is shadowed by the sorrow that has touched so many lives in deeply personal, heartbreaking ways.

These families need more than material help—they need emotional and psychological healing. The war has left many unsure of how to move forward. That’s why organizations like AFYE/B’ezri and the generosity of their donors are vital. Life may look “back to normal” from the outside, but as the stream of requests shows, thousands are still struggling and the challenges are only growing.

Gabbai tzedakah can’t eliminate poverty entirely, but with the help of trusted organizations, they can break its grip—providing relief for holidays, simchas, and crises like today’s war, using carefully allocated donor funds from all around the world.

Debra recalls, “The love we felt from people abroad, people who aren’t here, who aren’t facing what we’re facing, we felt that love so strongly. We felt that we are one nation and everyone finds their tafkid (role), what they can do. When people ask me what they can do I say ‘You can write a letter, call, even send a text to show support. Of course, you can also give, you can donate.’ People don’t realize the smallest of gestures are so powerful.”