Lessons from a Nursing Home in Israel

My recent summer studying at Jewish National Fund-USA’s Alexander Muss High School in Israel (Muss) was a truly transformative experience. In addition to the bonds, memories, and souvenirs I gained during my short but memorable time attending the ultimate study abroad experience in Israel for American teens, I also gained a new worldview that inspired my lifelong Zionist identity.

Time and time again, I was overwhelmed with gratitude and pride after learning about the many sacrifices our ancestors made to ensure a prosperous Jewish homeland, which made it possible for me to pray at the Kotel (Western Wall), hike up Masada, and swim at Tel Aviv’s beaches. I felt a tremendous connection to the legacy of the Jews who came before me every time I followed in the footsteps of my ancestors — from keeping kosher, a practice I decided to adopt and take home with me, to advocating for the Jewish People and the State of Israel. In every story we heard, every site we learned about, there was a Jew who, once upon a time, decided to fight for the Jewish people and the land of Israel, no matter the required sacrifice.

One experience at Muss that I will hold in my heart forever was our visit to a nursing home in Be’er Sheva. I was in a room with the group that wasn’t really “with it,” so to speak. Most residents’ eyes hardly made contact with my own, and they were incapable of forming a coherent sentence. When they did, they were praised as if every word they mustered was their very first. Seeing these people in a state of such close resemblance to childhood forced me to grapple with life’s meaning. If we are just going to end up back where we started, why put in so much effort

My friends and I stood in the middle of the room, facing out towards a sea of empty stares. We sang the one song my friend knew how to play on his guitar – Wonderwall. Our voices cracked and collided, heterogeneous as the strokes of an expressionist painting, and as we finished singing the final “save me,” there was no applause. Not even a shuffle or a nod of approval. The little room just retreated right back into the same silence that had previously plagued it.

That’s when Judy, the nursing home’s caretaker, began to play Hatikvah, Israel’s national anthem, over the speaker. Some of the faces which had once been expressionless now radiated not only with a conscious presence but with wistful hope and nostalgia. I took one elderly woman's hand in my own, and we danced to the most beautiful sound in the world: the angelic voices of children coalescing like individual dots in a pointillist painting, collectively forming a vivid harmony of hope so pure, so sincere, so innocent, that it must have warmed even the coldest of hearts. “Hatikvah bat shanot alpayim” (the hope that is two thousand years old), she sang with a quivering voice yet unfaltering pride. These words were the first and last she uttered throughout our entire visit, but they said all that needed to be said.

This woman, regardless of her current state, had shared in the same hope that the Jewish people have shared in for over 2,000 years – a magnitude of time that renders any one individual’s life span, hers or mine, insignificant by comparison. She, as I would later learn from Judy, had survived the holocaust and now had over fifty grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She may be, as I had previously lamented, back to where she started, but along the way she fulfilled the dreams of her ancestors, brought new life into the world, and created a better world to leave behind for her descendants than the one into which she was brought. Leaving behind a better path is why, I realized, humanity has never given up, and why I must continue in their path.

While this experience was painful at times, it made me understand that I, as a healthy young person, must use my unique capabilities to fulfill the ambitions of those who can no longer chip in for the collective struggle of every Jew.  A struggle animated by a deep love and commitment to each other, the future of our community in and beyond our homeland, and to life.

Something I noticed throughout my time in Israel is that Jews have always loved life — no matter the curveballs and hatred life has thrown at us. We are resilient people at our core, and a people who have mastered the delicate art of celebrating life while never forgetting its tragedies and all those whose lives were cut short. Overall, Muss was an incredible experience that connected me to the land and people of Israel for life, and a very difficult one to describe to someone who has not had the privilege of experiencing it.

I guess you’ll just have to go and see it for yourself.

Alexander Muss High School in Israel is Jewish National Fund-USA’s premier college-prep, study abroad in Israel experience for American teens. To learn more about Muss’s semester, mini-mester, and summer programs, visit amhsi.org or email [email protected].