In all my years doing disaster relief and crisis response work, I never thought my family would need to consider the kind of support I’ve helped provide to thousands of people during wars, earthquakes, famines, and storms. At 10:00 PM last Saturday night in central Tel Aviv, that all changed.

A rocket fired from Iran hit a building 100 meters from my family’s apartment, killing two women and injuring many others and causing a ripple of damage in its wake. The scene around the building was chaos, with a massive crater in the middle of Yehuda HaLevi Street, a main artery in the city, and the carnage stretched for many blocks beyond, with car windows shattered and buildings damaged all around.

We moved into our apartment in the summer of 2024. Our little oasis, where I live with my husband, Yoav, our youngest daughter, and dog, Chica, with our oldest daughter nearby, was a safe place for us. In an instant, that reality was totally destroyed.

The shock of the blast flattened everything on our balcony and shattered our windows. Our doors and sink were smashed, some of our furniture and other belongings were wrecked, and the rooms were covered in broken glass. Our home is not currently habitable and will require significant repairs with no clear timeline to return.

Even amidst this devastation, miracles happen. Blessedly, no one in my family was harmed. I am with my daughters in Rome, three of the some 100,000 Israelis stranded and unable to get back home. My husband was out of the house when the rocket fell. Our dog survived, as did some plants on the balcony.

Hearing my husband’s voice while leading me on a tour of the apartment over FaceTime, and the joy I felt as Chica barked in the background, was a reminder that one can replace objects, but not loved ones. The bit of green leaves peeking out through the debris was a sign of hope.

That does not mean we are not experiencing pain, a sense of loss, and fear. I was terrified when I heard the news of the attack. It is constantly gnawing at me that I cannot hug my husband and help and support him through this time.

Our eldest has been experiencing anxiety since the last war with Iran, and when word of a possible new round emerged weeks ago, she stopped sleeping. Our youngest, with her big heart, begged me to call emergency services in the wake of the attack to make sure Chica was safe after the strike.

This experience has shown me how powerful the support my organization, the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC), is to Israelis under attack and those around the world facing crisis, especially the most vulnerable. Our family will survive this season. We will find ways to rebuild and get on to the next chapter (even if we carry the scars of this one).

But imagine if you are older and homebound, or you are unable to make ends, if Hebrew is not your first language, or if you have no support at all from family or loved ones. Imagine what it is like to be in a place with stretched public services and no hospitals or emergency teams nearby. Now think of what it is like to lose your home or business and suddenly become like a refugee in your own land, reliant on others for care.

This is the reality for millions of at-risk Israelis of all walks of life—seniors, people with disabilities, new immigrants, those in poverty, and Arab and Haredi community members. It is what they face after more than two years of war and at the start of the new conflict with Iran. Our days since have been marked by more than 76,00 sirens alerting us to hundreds of rockets that have sent more than 2,000 people to hospitals and led more than 2,800 people to be evacuated from their homes.

This is also the lived experience of hundreds of thousands more who became vulnerable for the first time after October 7. This group includes newly disabled reservists and terror attack survivors, tourism professionals who lost jobs or farmers who lost businesses, and an entire generation of children and teens severely traumatized.

To tackle this scale of need, a coalition including the social sector, Jewish philanthropy like the Jewish Federations, the business community, and local and national government has deployed hundreds of millions in resources to date. To lift people up in dark days like these, we will need to do even more and be with them in the depths of their struggles.

We’ll have to get them through the red tape and ensure care covers mind, body, and soul. We’ll have to ensure they have the basics – food, medicine and shelter – and the government social benefits they are entitled to, even in displacement. We’ll may have to help them retool for a new career path or a new home when their dreams evaporate and equip emergency teams to save more lives when the next strike happens.

The trick is to be there before they need us and to be present every step of the way as they move from crisis to hope.

That too is a miracle. And we’ll need more of them in the time ahead.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)