A legacy reinforced: Keren Hayesod shows its impact in Israel’s challenging times

The organization’s current relevance is perhaps best epitomized by its dedicated work since the beginning of the Israel-Hamas War. By the end of this year, Grundwerg states, the organization will have raised more than NIS 2 billion for the State of Israel in the three years of 2023-2025.

“This has been the longest war in Israel’s history,” he says. “Over the years, Keren Hayesod and Israel and the Jewish people have seen crises and wars and emergency campaigns. But to keep an emergency campaign going for such a long period of time and sustain it is really quite remarkable. We operate in 45 countries and run 60 campaigns. What we’ve seen is not just a huge spike in donor and community involvement and engagement but in fundraising as well.”

Touching on the theme of the recently concluded holiday of Hanukkah, Grundwerg says, “We have seen a rise in antisemitism everywhere, and more recently, brutal antisemitic terrorist attacks in Manchester and Sydney. We have also witnessed the difficult times that Israel has experienced over the past two years.

“These events are a stark reminder of the shared fate and destiny that the Jewish state has with our brothers and sisters around the world. Just as the holiday of Hanukkah is a time of bringing more light into the world, we hope and pray that we’re coming out of a dark period into a period that has more light and more goodness.”

Keren Hayesod’s main strategic partner is The Jewish Agency for Israel. Additionally, Keren Hayesod has always worked directly hand-in-hand with local municipalities throughout Israel. “Especially now, after Oct. 7, having those relationships and working hand in hand with those municipalities and mayors and the local government is something that continues and something that we strengthen,” says Grundwerg. Keren Hayesod, he explains, is continuously working with its donors to impact the lives of the country’s citizens.

This impact can perhaps best be understood through the following three stories of individuals whose lives have been changed by Keren Hayesod.

At 6:29 a.m. on Oct. 7, missiles from Gaza began falling on the city of Ofakim. Rabbi Shachar Butzchak, 42, heard the sound of Kalashnikov rifles firing near his home. He

grabbed his pistol, told his wife to stay with their six children in the safe room, and ran toward the gunfire. Armed only with his pistol, he confronted the Hamas terrorists. He saw a man in an IDF uniform wearing a brown vest. Thinking it was an Israeli soldier, Butzchak held his fire. The terrorist shot first, and the bullet struck him in the hip.

“I was there for an hour and a half without any proper treatment,” he says quietly. “It’s a miracle that I’m still alive today. I could have died on the spot,” he recalls. Butzchak’s children grabbed knives from the kitchen, ready to protect themselves if the terrorists reached their home. “My kids are still fighting in that war,” Butzchak says, referring to the trauma.

After emergency surgery that day, Butzchak faced a devastating reality: neurological injury and paralysis in the bottom of his leg. He spent 10 days in rehabilitation at Soroka Hospital before requesting a transfer to ADI Negev-Nahalat Eran, just minutes from his home in Ofakim. “I came here in a wheelchair,” Butzchak says, “but now I can finally dream of running again.”

For two years, ADI Negev has been central to Butzchak’s life. The first year, he was there five days a week. Now he continues treatment two to three days a week, while resuming his work as rabbi of his community. “We need to balance between my ordinary life and the rehab life,” he says. “My job here is to get healthy.”

The treatment is comprehensive: physiotherapy, hydrotherapy, gym work, horseback riding, and mental health care. What makes ADI Negev truly special, Butzchak emphasizes, is the people. “The staff here are available for me 24/7. They treat me like their own brother.”

If ADI Negev hadn’t been so close to his home, Butzchak thinks his recovery would have stalled. “If I needed to drive two hours each way to another rehab center, I might not have been able to walk today. Thanks to ADI Negev, I can.”

The facility treats not only Butzchak but also his entire family. His wife and children receive animal therapy and mental health care to address their own traumas. “What is very special here is that they treat the whole family, not just the person who was wounded,” he says.

The staff’s optimism fuels Butzchak’s determination. “They know how to balance reality and dreams. They do it with lots of smiles and a big heart. I’m not just hopeful that I will manage to get back to myself,” he states. “I know that I will succeed.”

Butzchak’s message to the Keren Hayesod-UIA donors worldwide is deeply personal: “I want to say thank you to Keren Hayesod communities all over the world. We feel your embrace. It’s very important for us. What you do is amazing. We feel like you are here with us, even though you are far away. We need you. Because of you, we can get healthy again and continue living as we should.”

Every morning, Gabriela Kleinman wakes up in her room in the absorption center in Ra’anana and experiences the same feeling. “I can’t believe that I’m here,” says the 26-year-old from Brazil. “Sometimes I even forget that I had a whole different life in another country.”

Three months ago, Kleinman made a decision that had been brewing for nearly two years. After participating in programs like Masa and Birthright, she felt a connection to Israel that she couldn’t quite explain. “I never really understood what that feeling was,” she reflects. But she knew she needed to discover what truly made her Jewish.

Growing up in Brazil’s vibrant Jewish community, Kleinman was always deeply connected to her heritage. Yet she always felt something pulling her toward Israel. When she finally told her parents about her decision to make aliyah, her mother was devastated. “She cried a lot. I think she still cries every day,” Kleinman admits. “I’m the youngest.” But her parents recognized something important: “Deep down, they knew this was the best option for me.”

What Kleinman found in Israel was better than anything she could have imagined. “The most appealing thing for me is the sense of community that we have,” she says. “We [new immigrants] came here with nothing, some of us with no friends or family, and, in less than one week, we had a whole new family, someone to support us.”

Kleinman has built a new family at the absorption center. Her best friends are from Mexico, and she has friends from Chile, the UK, and the United States. “I’m never alone,” she says. The bonds formed through shared experience run deep.

“We’ve all been through the same process, the same things. Some days are good, some days are not good, some days you want to cry, you miss your parents, you miss your family, you miss your friends,” Kleinman acknowledges. “But having everyone living in the same place, we try hard to be here for each other, to be like a family.

“I love the culture, and I love the people,” she says.

When asked about what being Jewish means to her now, Kleinman’s response captures the essence of her journey: “I feel now that being Jewish is like having a house in every country, it’s having a home in every country, a place to go on Shabbat, a place to celebrate, and a place to feel loved.”

Looking ahead, Kleinman sees her future clearly. “I don’t see myself living anywhere else.” In 10 years, she envisions her own home, married, surrounded by children, with a stable job, “just living a happy life, surrounded by Israelis, surrounded by the people that I met here.”

Her message to the Keren Hayesod-UIA community is simple but heartfelt: “Thank you for giving us this opportunity to live our dream and to start a new life, a happy life.”

More than 18,000 Jews made aliyah from across the world in 2025, which includes more than 800 from South America. Keren Hayesod-UIA, together with other partners, supports aliyah through 23 absorption centers run by the Jewish Agency, and dozens of absorption programs that help olim integrate into Israeli society, learn Hebrew, and continue working in their chosen professions, while encouraging the growth of Israel’s economy.

“I left home at 11,” says Eden. Her childhood was not filled with warmth or safety. Growing up in a religious home in Yavne’el, constant tension with her stepfather pushed her out of the house. She was a child searching for protection – and finding none.

Her first boarding school, in Afula Illit, became a place of deep hurt. Eden was bullied, excluded, and used by peers who pretended to be friends only when it suited them. She walked everywhere with headphones – not for music but to shut out a world that made her feel unwanted. The school was fine,” she says, “but the dorms were traumatic.”

Everything changed when her uncle told her about the Ramat Hadassah Youth Village. On her first visit, she was struck by the openness of the campus – the green spaces, the calm atmosphere, the feeling of possibility. She joined after a three-day introductory camp and is now there in her third year.

She found something she never had before: trust and a sense of belonging.

From 2023-2024, during Israel’s war with Hamas, Eden stayed with her grandparents in Safed. Rockets, sirens, and constant alarms all became part of daily life. Studying online was nearly impossible.

Fear set in. Returning to Ramat Hadassa felt like exhaling after months of anxiety.” It was like being able to breathe again,” she says.

When rockets later targeted the area around the youth village, the fear resurfaced, but this time she wasn’t alone. Counselors sat with her through panic attacks, guided her to shelters, stayed awake with students at night, and created a circle of care that was strong enough to steady her. One even helped her rebuild her relationship with her mother – something Eden never believed possible. Now they talk to each other regularly.

Keren Hayesod stood by the local authorities in the North and the South on Oct. 7, and long before. As Michal Uziyahu, mayor of the Eshkol Regional Council in the northwestern Negev, explains: “Keren Hayesod was really here many years before all this,” she stresses. “The fact that there are partners already in place means that the moment you experience a disaster like this, you need someone who knows you, who knows what you need before you even understand it yourself.”

The communities of the Eshkol Regional Council were at the center of the tragic events of Oct. 7. “Two hundred and fifty-nine of our people were murdered, and 119 were kidnapped,” says Uziyahu. “Half of the hostages are our residents – including children, the elderly, women, and men. It was simply a catastrophe.”

In the first days after Oct. 7, she recalls, Keren Hayesod representatives arrived in Israel and met with Uziyahu at the Hof Ashkelon Regional Council. The participants included Grundwerg; Edna Weinstock-Gabay, CEO and director-general of Keren Hayesod; Steven Lowy, then-chair of the Board of Trustees of Keren Hayesod; and Bruce Leboff, the current chair.

“Keren Hayesod was here long before Oct. 7, and they were here throughout. It brings comfort and strength knowing that they will continue to be by our side.

“People ask me how I can be optimistic after such a disaster. I see the younger generation, I see the commitment of leadership around the world, and I know we will succeed, and we will grow stronger from this.

“We will never be what we were before, even if you sometimes want to go back to life as it was. But we will become better and stronger,” Uziyahu asserts.