Life Lessons from an 18-Year-Old Soldier

What I've learned from hosting young Israelis in Cleveland

Jul 03, 2025

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man surfing — Photo by Oliver Sjöström on Unsplash

This summer, my husband and I are hosting a young Israeli man, who has come to Cleveland to work as a counselor at a Jewish day camp. He is part of a cohort of about twenty young people, most of whom have served in the Israel Defense Forces, and are in between army service and college. One of the best parts of hosting is sharing Friday night Shabbat dinners with Tohar and some of his friends.

A couple of weeks ago, we met Amit, a tiny young woman with cobalt blue eyes. Amit confided to me that she had been stationed at Nachal Oz.

There are two things I know about Nachal Oz. The first is that it is the military base that was overrun by terrorists on October 7, 2023, when Hamas invaded Israel and carried out its atrocities. The second thing I know is that there was a group of young women IDF soldiers who noticed an escalation in suspicious activity just over the border, and that they tried in vain to warn their higher-ups about a potential attack by Hamas.

Amit confirmed that I was right about both things.

As a matter of dumb luck, Amit happened to be off duty on October 7. She was away from the base when many of her friends were slaughtered. Her best friend, Noa, was kidnapped by Hamas terrorists and ultimately murdered by a doctor at Shifa Hospital in Gaza City.

“A doctor?”

Amit’s mass of blonde curls bobbed as she nodded her head.

Israelis, in general, are not naïve. They have been directly touched by evil. Their friends and relatives have been kidnapped and murdered and blown up for the crime of being Jewish. But what I saw on Amit’s young face was the resignation of a person whose naïveté has been obliterated.

I swallowed hard. I remembered Josef Mengele, also a doctor, notorious for conducting horrific experiments on twins at Auschwitz. But I’d only been indirectly exposed to the evil human beings are capable of, and I had allowed that knowledge to retreat to a place where I could summon it at will — or let it lie dormant.

I asked Amit to show me a photo of Noa. It is not easy to honor the bereavement of a twenty-year-old girl who has lost her best friend to a horrific death, but I could show respect by saying her friend’s name and viewing a photo of her friend, a beautiful young woman with amazing dimples and eyeglasses, and who looked to have the brightest of futures.

Later in the evening, I asked Amit what her plans were after she completed her duties at summer camp.

“Before I return to Israel?” she asked.

I nodded.

Without hesitation, Amit looked straight at me, her blue eyes not blinking, and said: “I want to go to Hawaii to learn to surf.”

There are only about 300 miles between the northernmost border and the southernmost point in Israel. I don’t think most Israelis comprehend just how large the United States is —or that it takes practically the same amount of time to get from the Midwest to Hawaii as it does to go from Israel to the U.S.

“What?! It’s so far!” I said, in my sensible old-lady voice. “And so dangerous! The waves are too big. There are so many easier things to do than to travel from Ohio to Hawaii.”

She nodded at me, as if what I was saying was to be considered.

But it wasn’t.

I was the one who needed to consider what she had said, and to witness the dreams that—despite the pain and the grief and the war that we are all so sick of—this brave young woman somehow kept alive.

On Being Jewish Now

Life Lessons from an 18-Year-Old Soldier

What I've learned from hosting young Israelis in Cleveland

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