I just returned home from an incredibly special trip to Israel with Shira, our second daughter, for her Bat Mitzvah. We had waited over a year since her COVID "drive-by" celebration and finally found a window when we could get into the country (sure enough, Israel’s doors closed again while we were there, so good timing!)

This was the second father/daughter Bat Mitzvah Israel trip I've now been fortunate to take, and I was amazed at how different it felt from the first -- because each daughter is so different. This trip was less adventurous, more spiritual (and with more shopping excursions).

We managed to catch the first night of Hanukkah in Jerusalem. Strolling the streets after nightfall, I got emotional seeing literally every house lit up with a menorah and felt so proud to be a Jew. Later that night as Shira and I lit the candles we both had an extra connection to the holiday, to each other, and to our People.

One thing that's always the same when visiting Israel was that longing feeling I got boarding the flight to return home, that I'm leaving a piece of myself and my heart behind. On the plane, Shira shared how special it was seeing all those radiant Jerusalem menorah lights and how she too felt sad to leave despite being homesick for her mom and sisters. I wish we could just stay, she said.

I nodded in agreement. Her words had cut a little deeper into my own feelings. But then she thought for a moment, turned toward me, and added: "But then who would light the menorah back home?" Bingo.

Despite my yearnings for Jerusalem, I feel as strongly as ever that our organization is playing a critical role for the Jewish People back here in the States. My job at JGSI is to light the flame of inspiration for young Jews to go and light their own menorahs. Together we are sharing one of the most important messages of Hanukkah - when faced with adversity, we overcame it by embracing our Jewish identity and traditions with greater pride than ever before.

Though where we live in L.A. is pretty Jewish, it's not Jerusalem. Back home, there's only one visible menorah on our block -- ours. That just makes Shira and me all the more proud to burn our candles extra bright, to keep our beloved traditions going, and to inspire others to continue illuminating the world with them. Because if we don't, who will?

We smiled at each other as we pulled into the gate at LAX.

Happy Hanukkah to you and your family!

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