Like you, I find the weight of recent events in Israel difficult to carry alone. 

This Wednesday, we mourned, as the bodies of four hostages were returned to Israel from Hamas. Itzik Elgarat z”l, Tsahi Idan z”l, Shlomo Mantzur z”l, and Ohad Yahalomi z”l were the final hostages returned under the ceasefire agreement. Our grief begins anew, even as we struggle to process the horrific fate of the Bibas family. 

At moments like this, words feel insufficient. When in Israel, we read a poem titled “Ain Milim,” Hebrew for “there are no words.” This is exactly how we feel. The grief is profound, and the uncertainty continues. But remaining silent is not the answer. In times like these, we need to gather—to process and not sit with this alone. 

When we realized we could not move forward with our large Cincinnati Community Israel Mission last year, we asked: How can we still bring Israel to our community? 

One answer has been Israel in Your Living Room—intimate gatherings where community members host conversations about Israel’s challenges, resilience, and evolving relationship with our Jewish community here in Cincinnati. More than 40 people have joined so far, with four more sessions ahead and over 60 signed up. 

These gatherings provide a space not just to recount events but to explore the emotions, complexities, and dilemmas so many are struggling to put into words. As one participant shared, “I thought the hardest part would be seeing the devastation, but coming home and feeling alone was even harder.” Another reflected, “I’ve struggled to put my feelings into words. But sitting in this living room gave me the space to process, speak openly, and finally feel understood.” 

In these rooms, we tackle tough, unfiltered topics—the emotional and political impact of October 7, the rise of antisemitism and misinformation, the reality of Israel’s rebuilding, and how we, in Cincinnati, continue to show up for our Israeli brothers and sisters in meaningful ways. 

At one recent gathering, a moment of silence fell over the room after someone asked, “How do we even begin to talk about this with our children?” Another voice followed, “I don’t want my kids to feel fear, but I also don’t want them to grow up disconnected from Israel.” 

These gatherings aren’t necessarily about answers—they’re about asking challenging questions, listening, and processing together. 

If you’d like to be part of one of these conversations, I'll personally help connect you to an upcoming session. Even if you’re unsure what to say or just need to listen, you are welcome. This is a space to reflect, to mourn, and to find comfort in the strength of community. 

As we mourn, as we struggle, and as we search for meaning in these difficult days, one thing remains clear: we do not have to navigate this alone. 

Warmly,  

Danielle V. Minson
CEO
Jewish Federation of Cincinnati
Your Support Matters: jewishcincinnati.org/give