The stories of these three Jewish children are quite different from your average kid. Despite growing up with an Arab father with forced custody arrangements, after learning a bit about Yiddishkiet, their neshama shone through, accomplishing what Yad L’Achim could not accomplish themselves.
Yaron and Ilan, two brothers who grew up with their Jewish mother in an Arab-Israeli town before being rescued by Yad L’Achim, were forced by a court-ordered custody arrangement to be in phone contact with their Arab father for 15 minutes a day.
The order was issued on a Monday and the father took advantage of the opportunity to incite them against their mother and the Jewish people. He did the same on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. But on Saturday his attempts to reach them were in vain, as their phone had been turned off.
Infuriated, the Arab called the police and complained that the mother was in violation of a court order. When the police arrived at her apartment, she directed them to her sons, aged 12 and 14, who said simply: “We observe Shabbat, so we turned off the phone. With all due respect, no one can force us to desecrate Shabbat.”
Later, Yaron told his Yad L’Achim mentor: “When we lived with our Arab father, we desecrated Shabbat and didn’t fulfill a single mitzvah. When Yad L’Achim took us out of there, put us in a religious school and taught us about Judaism, we decided to change the course of our lives and grow up as Jews. Our insistence on keeping Shabbat, despite our father’s threats, is our way of strengthening our Jewish identity.”
Dalia: Dalia’s mother, Racheli, a heroic Jewish woman was rescued from a violent relationship with her Arab husband. “For many long years I was subjected to his beatings. At first it was kept secret, but at some point, he wasn’t afraid to do it front of everyone. There could be an outburst of violence in the middle of the Iftar meal at the end of Ramadan – in front of the entire hamula – or in front of my daughter Dalia.
“To my great sorrow, Dalia grew up in this difficult reality. At first, she thought it was normal, but when she turned 8, she began to understand that something was not right.
“I had begun telling her secretly while putting her to bed at night, that we were Jewish. It was our little ‘secret.’ On her eighth birthday, I told her that I wanted to give her a big gift: a special prayer that Jews say, which connects them to G-d and protects them. And then I taught her the passuk ‘Shema Yisrael.’
“From that day on, every time my husband would start hitting me, I would see Dalia go to the corner of the room, put her hands over her eyes and say, ‘Shema Yisrael Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echad.’ Then she told me that she would also add her own prayer, from the bottom of her heart: “G-d, please watch out for my mother.”
“This innocent and courageous prayer sustained me in the face of his violence and gave me the strength to contact Yad L’Achim and escape together with her. I knew that if my daughter called out ‘Shema Yisrael,’ G-d would hear her, save us from the inferno and help us live as Jews.”
Oded: Now, he goes by the name Oded. After Yad L’Achim rescued him together with his mother and three brothers in the dead of night from the largely Arab town of Wadi Ara, the court ordered the children to visit their Arab father once a month.
These visits took a toll on the mother, who feared that he would use the opportunity to turn them against her, and against their newly embraced Judaism. But the children themselves never let his words penetrate. They could see the difference between how they had been raised and how they were flourishing in their new surroundings, and knew very well where they belonged.
After the Simchas Torah massacre, Oded bravely decided to wear a kippah all the time, even on visits to his Muslim father. His father thought it was ridiculous, but Oded refused to back down. “I am Jewish and this is how Jews behave,” he said.
This summer, at the camp organized by Yad L’Achim for the children of survivors of Arab villages, Oded learned about tzitzis and “charity pouches” that provide protection. When he saw Yad L’Achim distributing tens of thousands of these to soldiers serving in the north and in the Gaza Strip, Oded asked for a set for himself.
Since then, every morning, after donning his tzitzis and tefillin, Oded has been careful to put a coin in the charity pouch he keeps in his pocket. Like the kippa, the tzitzis and tzedaka pouch also come with Oded on his visits to his Arab father.
When the father saw the Yad L’Achim logo embroidered on the pouch, he became furious, but Oded wasn’t flustered. “Charity is an important mitzvah that protects from death,” he said boldly. “I walk around with this pouch and put a coin in it every day. When I reach a certain sum, I give it to the poor. You should be happy for your child’s good deeds…”
Please join Yad L’achim in the great mitzvah of Pidyon Shvuyim. Take part in the rescue of these women and children from suffering and captivity, to a life where they dare to live as proud Jews, keeping Torah and Mitzvos.
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