I haven't felt quite like myself this week. I woke up Wednesday morning in a particularly heavy mood, and then it made sense.
Three years since October 7.
Maybe you have felt some of that heaviness too. It comes and goes. Wednesday morning, I told our staff that sometimes we must give ourselves the grace to feel it.
That evening, more than 140 of us gathered to remember. We heard about Be'eri, Kfar Aza, Sderot, and the Nova festival, and about the people whose lives were taken and the communities working to rebuild. I want to share two of those stories with you.
On the morning of October 7, Dolev and Odaya Swisa put their two daughters in their car to get them out of Sderot. They didn't know terrorists were already in the city. Dolev was shot as he shielded his little girl with his own body. He died at the hospital hours later.
A police officer told Odaya to follow him to the station, where they would be safe. Amer Abu Sabila, a young Bedouin father who had stopped to help, took the wheel because she was too shaken to drive. Terrorists had already taken the station. Odaya and Amer were killed there.
In the back seat, Romi-Shira, who was six, pulled her three-year-old sister, Lia, to the floor and covered them both with a sheet.
When rescuers reached the car, Romi-Shira asked them one question: "Atem shel Yisrael?" Are you from Israel? In Hebrew, it means something closer to this: Are you ours?
They told her they were. Then they brought both girls to safety.
Moria Dafni, our Community Shlicha, gave our staff words for what so many of us carry on this day: brokenness and hope, held at the same time. Hope, she told us, is a slippery thing. There are seasons when we can hold it and seasons when we can't find it at all.
So we build hope.
Daniel Elad showed us what that looks like. He spoke about his cousin Niv and her partner, Nirel, who were murdered in Kfar Aza. Their families created the Niv & Nirel Center so Israelis affected by trauma can get care in weeks instead of waiting months. Cincinnati was the second place its founders came for support. Today, the center has helped more than 350 people begin to heal.
At the end of the evening, we planted red ceramic anemones, kalaniyot in Hebrew, in the courtyard garden at the Mayerson JCC. Members of our community created them with a visiting artist from Kibbutz Carmia, our sister community in the Gaza envelope. As I planted mine, I kept thinking about what Moria said. Hope is hard to hold. Sometimes we have to build it with our own hands.
I've seen people building that hope in recent months. Our Cohen Family Leaders in Light Institute welcomed fifteen new fellows: civic, faith, education, and business leaders who will spend seven months learning together, speaking candidly, and staying in relationship when they disagree. Graduates of earlier cohorts came back to guide them. That's how change spreads, one conversation at a time. Last week, 16 new LEAD members joined me in my sukkah to begin their leadership journey. Every year someone asks whether young leaders are stepping up. Looking around my backyard, I was proud. The answer is yes.
A year ago, I wrote to you that Jewish engagement was surging across the country and that it gave me hope. New national data from Jewish Federations of North America, released this week, shows the surge has endured, even as many Jews say they are more cautious about expressing their Jewish identity in public. Nearly 4 in 10 American Jews are part of it. What brings people back is ordinary: a simple invitation, an informal setting, and someone who welcomes them.
I love that Cincinnati has many doors in: the Jewish Federation of Cincinnati, our agencies, our congregations, our day schools, our camps. Each can become a path toward deeper Jewish connection and belonging. Keeping those doors open is at the heart of Cincinnati 2030 Refocused, our community's strategic plan.
Romi-Shira asked a stranger, "Are you ours?" Someone in our community is asking the same question right now, maybe without saying it out loud. A newcomer at the edge of the room. A friend you haven't seen in a while. A young parent looking for a way in. And sometimes, they're waiting to see whether anyone invites them in.
So invite one person into something Jewish this fall. Maybe it's a Shabbat dinner, a workout class, or something at your congregation. Or bring someone to IsraelLENS: Unpacking the Israeli Election—After the Vote, on Thursday, November 5, at the Mayerson JCC. Register here. If you missed our September conversation, catch up here.
On the worst morning of her life, Romi-Shira asked whether the people in front of her were hers, and they told her yes.
Let's be the ones who say yes.
Shabbat Shalom,
Danielle V. Minson
CEO, Jewish Federation of Cincinnati
PS: Our 2027 Annual Campaign has begun. Our 2025 Financial Story shows how your gifts helped last year, and through the matching grant from the Jewish Foundation of Cincinnati, every increase is matched 2:1—$100 becomes $300.
PPS: Early voting is underway in Ohio, and Election Day is November 3. Please make a plan to vote, and encourage someone else to do the same.