This week I began the journey of researching and writing about the Jewish women of Israel’s First Aliyah, and I feel a stirring within me—a calling from my predecessorss—as I navigate my own struggles here as a Jewish woman after making Aliyah a-year-and-a-half ago.
The “First Aliyah” includes the approximately 30,000 Jewish people who returned to the Promised Land between 1882 and 1903, escaping persecution and pogroms in pre-Holocaust Europe and Yemen.
The First Aliyah Museum here in Zichron Yaakov is in a four-story historic building across from Gan Tiyul, near Ohel Yaakov Synagogue in the center of town. Though I originally made aliyah with my family to Kiryat Tiv’on in 2022, we recently moved to Zichron and live in walking distance the museum and Midrahov (downtown pedestrian street).
Meeting with the museum’s director, Svetlana, we spoke about the women of the past and their legacy. We discussed the importance of sharing women’s stories—of creativity, resilience, and sacrifice—as a vital part of preserving history and inspiring other women.
Sarah Aaronsohn, Manya Shochat, and others like them lived with unbelievable courage and conviction. They were driven by a deep sense of purpose, a belief in the promise of a Jewish homeland, and a commitment to building a better future for Jewish generations to come—for us.
Central to the narrative of Israel’s First Aliyah was the support provided by Baron Edmond de Rothschild, who (remotely from Paris) financed the establishment of numerous settlements across the Holy Land.
But the hands-on toil and hardship were endured by those who worked relentlessly here to transform swamps and deserts into thriving communities.
As I read about the women of Israel’s history and see their faces in photos, I sense their souls reaching out to me, urging me to share their stories—and to give strength to Jewish women during our current situation.
G-d is with us.
Yesterday I just saw an interview with Liel Shoham, a young woman who survived the attacks on Oct. 7.
A masked man was pointing a gun at her face, and she screamed as loud as she could: Shema Yisrael, Adonai Elochenu, Adonai Echud. (The Shema prayer is a Jew’s daily declaration of faith.)
“It’s a really powerful and meaningufl prayer,” she said during the interview. “I just started to scream [this prayer] at him. I never screamed so loud.”
He seemed surprised, she said, “like why is this girl screaming at me instead of putting her head down after I shot her friend.”
Then he lowered the gun.
What strength and faith!
In the face of adversity, in the midst of uncertainty, we are not alone. We are guided by those who came before us, by the strength of our ancestors, and by the enduring presence of the Divine in our lives.
As I begin to learn about their stories, I am filled with a sense of purpose and determination. I am reminded of the power of storytelling, of the ability of words to bridge the gap between past and present.
As I immersed myself in the museum’s exhibits, I gained insights into the daily lives and struggles of these pioneering families. From the clothing they wore—a reflection of their religious and cultural identity—to the challenges they faced in literally building communities from the ground up.
For me, volunteering at the First Aliyah Museum is more than just an opportunity to connect with history—it’s a source of inspiration and empowerment.
As a recent immigrant to Israel, navigating the challenges of settling into a new country and rebuilding my life here with my children, I find solace in the stories of those who came before me. Their struggles remind me of my own strength and resilience, and I’m emboldened in my commitment to live, and die, as a Jewish woman here in our homeland.
Mindy Morasha 