This Hanukkah, eight new Olim will gather around their menorahs for the first time as Israeli citizens. In a year when light has felt particularly precious, the festival of lights carries new meaning for those who chose to begin their lives anew in the Jewish homeland, through Nefesh B’Nefesh in cooperation with the Ministry of Aliyah and Integration, The Jewish Agency for Israel, Keren Kayemeth LeIsrael, and Jewish National Fund-USA.
For many, the most striking difference is simply being surrounded by the holiday rather than explaining it. Etty Wiener, who moved from New York to Jerusalem this summer with her husband and two children, still marvels at seeing menorahs in store windows and hearing her son come home from school excited about what he learned about Hanukkah. “In New York, Hanukkah was beautiful, but always overshadowed,” she said. “Here, it feels like the whole country is celebrating with us.” Her family plans to adopt the custom of placing their menorah outside, something people in the Diaspora often can’t do. “Hanukkah is about showing the miracle of the Jewish people. Being in Israel for that, it feels like the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s Jewish pride illuminated.”
That sense of belonging also resonates deeply with Nicole Horne, who moved to Tel Aviv from Washington, D.C. in May. “Elsewhere, you sometimes feel like an outsider for being Jewish,” Nicole said. “But here? Hanukkah isn’t the alternative holiday, it’s just part of life.” She laughed remembering how early her workplace in Israel began decorating, and she admitted she is “unreasonably excited” for sufganiyot. “Seeing so many menorahs everywhere is something I’ve never experienced before. It feels special. It feels like home.”
In Ra’anana, Irving Safdieh, who made Aliyah recently from New Jersey, noticed his children embracing their new sense of independence, something he and his wife hoped Aliyah would offer them. “Our kids take the bus on their own now. They have made so many friends. They’re thriving,” he said. Celebrating Hanukkah in Israel has only amplified that joy. Instead of Christmas décor, their outings are filled with glowing Hanukkiot, and they’ve turned sampling sufganiyot into a family-wide ranking competition. Irving said, “going to public menorah lightings with Israelis, really makes you feel part of something bigger.”
Yaffa Troodler, a Bat Sherut (National Service Volunteer) that made Aliyah from Philadelphia, has spent her sherut leumi (volunteer service) working in schools for children with disabilities.“Doing anything in my power to give back to the country is my way of bringing more light into Israel as an Israeli,” Yaffa explained. “After making Aliyah, I finally felt a sense of belonging,” she reflected. Celebrating Hanukkah in Israel has only strengthened that feeling. “You really feel the presence of Hanukkah here, it’s warm, it’s home,” she said. For Yaffa, lighting the menorah this year isn’t just a personal milestone, it’s the beginning of a legacy. “Because of me, my future generations will celebrate Hanukkah here,” Yaffa said.
For Daniel Friedman, who moved from New Orleans, Louisiana to Tel Aviv this summer, Hanukkah brings his Aliyah experience full circle. His first visit to Israel was during Hanukkah a few years ago, and returning as a citizen feels symbolic. “Rededicating myself to Judaism, returning to the land, it mirrors the Hanukkah story. You get eight nights instead of one. Now I am here, and that alone feels like a miracle.”
Just a few months into her life as an Israeli, Adina Spiewak is looking forward to building her own traditions. After years of celebrating Hanukkah in the U.S. with events, gifts, and obligations, she’s embraced the quieter, more intentional rhythm she’s found in Israel. “I want to bring light to other people,” she said. “Each of us is a vessel for our neshama (soul), and when our lights come together, they shine brighter.” A former campus Chabad president who helped guide students through the turmoil of October 7th, she said her move feels deeply right. “There’s no time like the present.”
In the northern city of Maalot Tarshiha, Scott Friedman and his family, who joined a cohort of English-speaking families that also made Aliyah, are preparing to celebrate Hanukkah in a tightly knit, warm community in Israel’s periphery. “Growing up in the States, the holidays sometimes felt like a third-person story,” Scott explained. “Here, it feels like first-person. It feels like ours.” Their daughter has already integrated into school, and the community even created a special Hanukkah program for the new Olim. “We finally get to use a pey on our dreidels,” he laughed. “And we’re even looking for a box so we can put our menorah outside like everyone else.”
For Dr. Talia Sudai, a family physician from Toronto now working in a kupat cholim (health clinic) in the center of Israel, Hanukkah brings a sense of warmth during a challenging transition. “In Canada, the holiday could feel isolated,” she explained. “Here, I feel connected, even to people I don’t know, the sense of community is so strong.” She hopes to organize a candle-lighting with her brother, who also made Aliyah, a small gesture of the light she wants to bring to her new home.
As these eight new Israelis prepare for the holiday, their journeys reflect the story of Hanukkah. A story of resilience, renewal, and an unwavering belief that even in difficult times, light endures. This year, their candles burn not only for ancient miracles but for the modern miracle of coming home.
Written in collaboration with Nefesh B'Nefesh