A grandmother’s reflection on the quiet maturity, deep moral standard, and immense responsibility carried by our young…

Last night, we were surprised to receive a phone call from our grandson Eli.

I write “surprised” because since the “lion started to roar,” Eli has been tending to his planes for eighteen hours or more each day.

My instinct as a mother, as a grandmother, is to simply drive across the Atlantic Ocean and bring Eli a heimisch, warm meal, a steak and baked potato, or a juicy hamburger with all the trimmings.

Oh well. Even if I had a speedboat or water taxi, I could not reach his destination. I have no idea where he is.

“What did you have for dinner?” I asked him.

“It’s getting better, the food, but the Americans definitely have a better deal,” he answered.

This young man’s father decided fourteen years ago to establish his future in our land, in Eretz Israel, and with three children in tow, he did just that.

Fast forward to 2023, October 2023 to be exact, when his son Eli was drafted.

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I happened to be in Israel on the very first day of his basic training, and I remember him going through his checklist of required items for his duffel bag.

“I forgot the lock. I’m supposed to bring a lock,” he said.

When we arrived at the meeting point, I scanned the area and noticed a hardware store a block away.

I hurried over, purchased the needed item, and handed it to Eli.

“Now you are all ready,” I said.

Little did I know just how ready this child truly was.

His basic training was shortened because of the war.

When I spoke to Eli yesterday, I looked at his face, more mature, changed. The softness of youth had given way to something stronger, more defined.

He is now part of the heroes shaping history.

He knows it. I sense it deep within him, in his soul. And he carries it with the highest moral standard.

These soldiers are our children, our grandchildren, young men who once needed reminders to pack something as simple as a lock.

They were raised in homes where values were passed from one generation to the next.

In Eli’s case, his great grandfather Yechiel was handed a gun the moment he set foot on holy ground in March 1948. He was among the first heroes who helped build this country.

He stepped forward when history demanded it, and so did our Eli.

I sat quietly for a long time after that unforgettable phone call.

He had just been given permission for a few hours of sleep, and instead of rushing to his quarters, he chose to call his grandparents.

Eli stands tall now, carrying responsibilities most cannot begin to imagine.

Hashem has entrusted him, and so many like him, with a strength that feels almost beyond human.

Dear Times of Israel Readers,

Many of you have followed my stories on The Times of Israel.

I love to write about family, faith, Israel, Jewish continuity, and the legacy of Holocaust survivors.

Over the years, I have shared personal reflections from Vienna, Los Angeles, and Israel, stories of survival and rebuilding, of grandchildren and soldiers, of Jewish life, memory, and hope. My goal has always been to preserve the experiences of a generation that witnessed history and to connect those lessons to the challenges and blessings of our lives today.

I invite you to continue following my blog on The Times of Israel and to share these stories with family and friends.

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For readers who would like to explore a larger collection of these essays and reflections, many of them have also been gathered into my book, Life Is Golden and We Are Still Here.

Purchase ‘Life is Golden’ on Amazon

Purchase ‘We Are Still Here’ on Amazon

Thank you for reading, for commenting, and for being part of this journey.

Warm regards,

Rebecca Liebermann Nissel

Author and Times of Israel Blogger

Rebecca Liebermann Nissel was raised by Holocaust survivors and educated at the Gymnasium in Vienna, Austria. She is a prolific author whose writing explores a wide range of contemporary topics with depth and sensitivity. Rebecca is the author of two books, We Are Still Here and Life Is Golden.