One Hundred Fridays, One Endless Hope
France
A Turning Point in Healing Together
Mexico
Together After the Return
Germany
One Family, One Heart
Brazil
We Could Dance Again
United Kingdom
One Hundred Fridays, One Endless Hope
Carole Ohayon
France
Everyone remembers where they were on the morning of October 7, 2023. Just like September 11, 2001, it’s a day we can never forget. NEVER.
I don’t observe Shabbat, so I saw the first images from that day almost immediately, my heart heavy and tears streaming down my face. For two years, I lived to the rhythm of the news, following every report on television and across social media.
In November 2023, my husband and I went to Israel to volunteer, that’s where we belonged.
When we returned home, I joined the weekly gathering in support of the hostages at the Trocadéro in Paris. Every Friday we came together to honour the hostages, support their families, and call for their freedom. One hundred Fridays spent praying and singing for hope.
My experience seeing the last twenty hostages finally be freed was like witnessing the release of cousins and friends I had long held in my heart. We all know their stories.
That moment was more than relief, it was resurrection. It reminded us that Am Israel never gives up on its children.
Their return is a light piercing through years of darkness, carrying within it the quiet power of faith fulfilled.
However, I haven’t taken off my little yellow ribbon. There are still thirteen bodies left in Gaza. I won’t remove it until the last one returns.
Every week, as I braid my challah for Shabbat, I continue to pray for their speedy return.
A Turning Point in Healing Together
Raquel Feldman
President of the Ashkenazi Community of Mexico
There is no doubt that the world is changing at a rapid pace. The events we have witnessed recently have shifted our emotions and perspectives in ways we could hardly have imagined just a few weeks ago.
Today, we are filled with joy as many of the kidnapped have finally returned home. For months, we prayed for their safe return, pleaded for answers, and demanded action. At last, some have made it back, bringing relief and happiness to their loved ones and to all who waited with hope.
Yet, our joy remains incomplete. There are still those who are missing: friends, family members, acquaintances, and even individuals we have never met, but whose stories have deeply touched us and became our own. Their absence is felt by all, and we share in the grief, helplessness, and pain their families endure.
During this difficult period, it did not matter whether tragedy struck a well-known city or a small town. Every name, every face, and every mark on the map has drawn us closer together, strengthening our sense of unity and shared purpose as a people.
I hope that this stage we are living through will be a turning point. May it bring light where there was darkness, comfort where there was pain, and hope where there was fear. May the memory of those who are no longer with us inspire us to continue building a future of peace for all of Israel, and for everyone who longs for a better world with faith, unity, and love.
It is time to heal.
Together After the Return
Tibor Luckenbach
Marketing and Communication, Keren Hayesod Germany
October 7, 2023, and October 13, 2025, mark the beginning and end of a dark, grim two-year period during which we could not pause for breath. Each individual hostage dominated our lives as if they were missing from our own family table. The hostage families' fight for their release was also our own, leaving us no time to catch our breath.
Now a new phase is beginning. Different, but no less challenging.
On October 13, I sat physically with colleagues in the Keren Hayesod office in Frankfurt, but our hearts were at the hostages' square in Tel Aviv. In feverish excitement, we watched videos, tears in our eyes, sobbing as families were finally, finally able to hold their loved ones in their arms again.
What feeling prevailed? I can't say, or maybe it’s impossible to name just one. Immense relief that the survivors were able to walk free on their own two feet, joy over every smile on their lips – but also pain and sadness about all the suffering that the Hamas terrorists and murderers brought upon countless people. All of this burst out of us.
Now that the goal we had devoted ourselves to for two years has been achieved, we can begin to truly mourn. We can now grasp the magnitude of what occurred, something monstrous that should have never happened, and that will change life forever.
Since October 13, I find myself thinking more and more about Shiri, Ariel, and Kfir Bibas. About all the lives destroyed and happiness lost that will never return.
Now, I believe, is the time for all of us to look inward, reflect, and recognize the responsibility that rests on our generation, the one that witnessed October 7. The fight is not over. The fallen hostages have still not all returned, the Iranian regime continues to pursue its agenda of annihilation, and large sections of the global public continue to demonize and delegitimize Israel unabated.
We must not slacken in our efforts to support Israel in its defense, financially and morally. At this moment, our unity and solidarity are more important than ever before.
Each and every one of us has a role to play in helping Israel heal from trauma, rebuild their lives and homes, restore their strength and support their resilience. This is the task of our time.
For Israel. For us.
One Family, One Heart
Karina Joseph Levy
Brazil
The Jewish people are truly incredible. From every corner of the world, we are connect and feel as one mishpachá, one family.
As we waited for the return of the hostages, it felt as though each one of them was someone dear to us, someone from our own home.
For two long years, we shared the deep anguish of the families who were waiting for their loved ones to come back.
In this moment, we feel immense joy for those who have returned alive, yet our hearts remain heavy for those who did not. We long for the bodies of the remaining deceased hostages to be brought home for a proper burial. Only then will our hearts find a bit more peace.
Yet even as we rejoice, we cannot ignore the reality around us. Antisemitism has resurfaced in many parts of the world, testing our strength and resolve. But this time, we are not voiceless. We stand together, proud, united, and unafraid to speak out.
The story of our people has always been one of endurance and renewal. By standing up, by caring for one another, and by refusing to be silent, we honour those that have suffered, those we have lost, and strengthen the bonds that hold us together as one mishpachá, one family, bound by hope and by love for our people.
Am Israel Chai
We Could Dance Again
Joe Ozer
Israel Bonds Executive Director, United Kingdom
There are moments when time seems to fold in on itself, when past and present meet in a way that feels almost too powerful to take in. The eve of Simchat Torah this year was one of those moments.
Two years ago, on this same holiday, the celebrations turned into chaos, cut short by unthinkable tragedy. The dancing ended and our world was changed. The memories of that day became forever tied to pain and loss.
This year, as news spread that the remaining hostages would finally come home almost exactly two years later, something inside of me, inside all of us, began to shift. And on the eve of the very same holiday, twenty living hostages walked into the arms of their loved ones. Relief, disbelief, joy, and sorrow hit all at once, as we smiled through tears. It wasn’t just about the return of individuals, it felt like a piece of our collective spirit was being restored.
Not everything is healed, nor will it ever be, and for some, this holiday is also the yahrzeit of loved ones, a solemn reminder of lives that will never return.
Simchat Torah is about joy and renewal, but this year carried the weight of everything we’d endured since that terrible morning of Simchat Torah on October 7, 2023. These celebrations were filled with gratitude, and the quiet understanding of the feeling of a full circle moment.
And yet, even amid grief, we held two truths at once: sorrow for what was lost, and joy for what has returned. For two years we have been saying “We will dance again” and this Simchat Torah we finally could.