By Maxine Carlill 

The frail, temporary shelters seen on balconies and sidewalks across Israel during the Feast of Tabernacles have a powerful message. In Leviticus 23, God commanded His people to live in shelters for seven days, leaving the comforts of home and dwelling in fragile huts with roofs open to the sky. This is a yearly reminder that it is not our material goods which give us security, but God above. 

This enduring truth is demonstrated in the story of Adele and Alexander. Recently, we drove to visit them in south Jerusalem, where they live in a nicely kept neighbourhood. As we entered the apartment they share with two daughters, Adele greeted us with a hearty welcome. The dining table displayed a plate with fruit and a freshly baked cake with teacups at the ready. 

Three years ago, Homecare was asked to check on this newly-arrived Jewish family suffering from the trauma of a harrowing escape from the Ukraine war. Adele and Alexander had both survived the ghetto of Mariupol in the Second World War, and then miraculously survived the bombing of Mariupol just three years ago.

As the Russians shelled the city, all the windows of their apartment were shattered, and the balcony was blown off the building. The iron doors were jammed, locking them inside. Answering their call for help, someone found a long ladder that reached a second-floor window and they fearfully climbed down. 

That is how the terrified couple, both already in their eighties, were rescued. Following three days in a hospital basement, Adele and Alexander and their two daughters began their journey by car to Hungary. The elderly, scared couple huddled in the back seat probably helped officials wave their car through checkpoints until they finally reached the Israeli consulate in Budapest and requested Aliyah to Israel. Adele contracted Covid-19 in Budapest, which delayed their journey, but they finally flew to Israel. 

Like the fragile walls of a succah, their lives were shaken, and Adele admits that if not for the war in Ukraine, she would never have made Aliyah to Israel. Their daughters have settled well in Israel and learned Hebrew, but Adele is still missing the city where she grew up and where her parents are buried, as well as her familiar belongings and lost family pictures. She knows that she made Aliyah not for herself but for her daughters and the generations to come. There is the pain of loss, but there is also the joy of knowing that the Almighty led her and her family all the way to Israel. He indeed is their security. 

Support ICEJ Homecare as they serve people like Adele and Alexander.