Stepping onto the war-torn soil of Israel, we continually confront the profound sorrow and palpable loss. Every stop tells a story of devastation, as countless individuals bear the scars of conflict, nursing their injuries and mourning the irreplaceable loss of relatives, friends, and homes. Our mission is clear – amidst the rubble and the tears, we endeavor to be a source of comfort and support, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.
Our interactions with the wounded and grieving paint a vivid picture of the impact of our presence. Grieving parents, with eyes filled with an indescribable blend of pain and gratitude, express how our company strengthens their spirits. Wounded soldiers, carrying the physical and emotional scars of battle, find in our visits a momentary reprieve, a connection to a world outside their pain. The recurring message is clear: our presence matters.
Yet, in quiet moments of reflection, doubt inevitably creeps in. The scale of suffering is overwhelming, with tens of thousands bearing the brunt of the Hamas’ fury. Can our individual acts of kindness truly make a dent in this vast expanse of grief? Is our effort akin to a drop in an ocean, too insignificant to be felt? It is here that the timeless story of the starfish seems particularly poignant.
There was once an old man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach every morning before he began his work. Early one morning, he was walking along the shore after a big storm had passed and found the vast beach littered with starfish as far as the eye could see, stretching in both directions.
Off in the distance, the old man noticed a small boy approaching. As the boy walked, he paused every so often and as he grew closer, the man could see that he was occasionally bending down to pick up an object and throw it into the sea. The boy came closer still and the man called out, ‘Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?’
The young boy paused, looked up, and replied ‘Throwing starfish into the ocean. The tide has washed them up onto the beach and they can’t return to the sea by themselves,’ the youth replied. ‘When the sun gets high, they will die, unless I throw them back into the water.’
The old man replied, ‘But there must be tens of thousands of starfish on this beach. I’m afraid you won’t really be able to make much of a difference.’
The boy bent down, picked up yet another starfish and threw it as far as he could into the ocean. Then he turned, smiled and said, “It made a difference to that one!”
This timeless narrative serves as a powerful reminder that the magnitude of our impact should not be measured in the vastness of the challenge, but in the connection we forge and the meaning we bring to individual lives. We may not be able to change the reality of the entirety of the people of Israel, but to each grieving parent and wounded soldier we encounter, we are a testament to the power of human connection and compassion. In the midst of overwhelming sorrow, our efforts affirm that they are not alone, and indeed, it made a difference to that one.
To Whom It May Concern 