Through the lens of a travel brochure, the Galilee looks like an idyllic green sanctuary: forested ridges, running streams, seasonal blooms, quiet rural hamlets, and an atmosphere torn from a postcard. Yet for those of us who live here, that quiet has always been fragile.

Over the past twenty-five years, the green hills outside my window have repeatedly been clouded by smoke, punctuated by the roar of missile interceptions, and shaken by the rise and fall of air raid sirens. When I moved north with my young family a quarter-century ago, many around us framed it merely as an “upgrade in quality of life.” Very few understood that it was, first and foremost, a declaration of identity and belonging.

Raising children alongside Israel’s northern frontier, navigating the 2006 Second Lebanon War, recurring escalations, and the brutal trials of recent times, forces sharp, unavoidable questions upon any parent. When taking work calls from our home safe room with colleagues in London’s Jewish community, while my toddlers (then just two and five)........

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