Yom Kippur this year was meant to be a time of quiet reflection and renewal, but for one synagogue in London, the moment was interrupted when protestors tried to break inside. This incident wasn't just about one building or one community – it rippled out to Jews and olim everywhere, including those settling in Israel and finding new ways to belong.
For olim, making a new home in Israel comes with hope and ambition. But every day can also feel a bit heavier, especially with headlines painting a picture of tension near and far. It's not just overseas events; even here, new immigrants receive WhatsApp alerts about security, hear stories of vandalism or find themselves worrying about family and community far away. The truth is, the challenges aren't abstract; they're woven into daily life, from opening a bank account to feeling secure at shul.
ESRA, Israel's largest network supporting English-speaking olim, steps in to help bridge these gaps.
Families who moved in search of safety are sometimes surprised when those feelings wobble, perhaps for the first time since arriving. Lists circulate online, and some olim feel that the worries of the past – stories of leaving behind antisemitism – echo in new forms.
Others carry deep family memories of escaping prejudice in Europe, only to realise that safety is something that must be worked for, not just hoped for. But even as these troubles emerge, olim keep going: learning Hebrew at Ulpan, helping their children adjust in new schools, and leaning on ESRA for community, activities and support.
Many olim recall support received through ESRA programs – joining walking tours in Tel Aviv, sharing meals in new neighbourhoods or accessing peer networks that make Israel feel like home.
Stories from the olim community show this resilience.
One oleh from Russia, arriving after medical struggles, found friendship and confidence through English-speaking support groups. A lone soldier made Aliyah, struggled with Hebrew and new ways of life, but kept going thanks to ESRA's tutoring and opportunities to connect with other newcomers. Parents, too, watch their kids walk to Israeli schools feeling proud – knowing there may be more security patrols, but life moves forward. These moments help turn uncertainty into belonging.
Resilience runs through the olim community, just as it does for Israelis who have deep local roots.
Look at Elay Golan, from Kfar Aza, who became a beacon of hope after October 7. She risked her life to save her young daughter, suffered devastating burns, and spent weeks in a coma. Against all odds, she recovered and gave birth to her second child. Her determination to rebuild and move forward inspires anyone facing new challenges.
Adapting to Israel asks for more than just paperwork or learning Hebrew; it asks for wisdom and strength.
As Proverbs 4:23 reminds us, "Guard your heart." My interpretation of this is deciding which worries to let in and which ones to let go.
It means keeping kindness and compassion close.
Maybe even letting anger pass rather than settle.
And leaning on traditions both old and newly adopted.
Olim still face practical challenges - adjusting to Israeli bureaucracy, or figuring out the best way to make new friends but the small rituals and connections such as a coffee date, a holiday meal, or community volunteering blunt the sharp edges of change.
As Yom Kippur ends and a new year starts, the festival offers a lesson for all olim: pause, reflect, and commit to keeping hope alive, even when the pathway looks uncertain.