Effie worked as the Director of IT at Ben Porat Yosef and served on the young committee of their shul and a gabbai of the Teen Minyan. Rebecca was a math teacher, camp co-director, educational director of a pre-school, curriculum coordinator and served on the PTA. The couple, hailing from Brooklyn and Staten Island respectively, had bought a house and were settled. “Let’s just say no one thought we would ever leave Staten Island,” Rebecca laughs.
“Aliyah was something we discussed often before we were married, and then less frequently after we got married,” says Effie. “We were concerned about making a living, raising children in Israel, the cost of living, foreign language challenges, and missing family.”
I think the fact that we had a great life and an amazing community kept aliyah off the table,” Rebecca adds. “I didn’t think I could be a teacher in Israel and I didn’t want to go back to the basics. In America, I was a somebody, and people respected me. I worried about losing that.”
Then Covid hit, and everything changed. Effie shared, “We weren’t able to visit Israel. As descendants of Holocaust survivors, there had always been a notion that if things ever got bad, we would move to Israel before it was too late. We decided that it was time to take a look at what it would really take to make aliyah: Where would we live? What would we do? What does the paperwork look like? It soon became clear that Israel was the better choice for our family…and every year in America was another year that [our children] would be stunted in Israeli culture and Hebrew fluency. We decided to move on short notice, along with our good friends, and surprisingly Rebecca’s parents, ultimately making the call in April, 2021 and moving to Sheinfeld in September.”
Due to Covid, there was no way to take pilot trips. With repeated rejections of their paperwork, an unsold house, and difficulty securing an apartment, Effie and Rebecca were met with constant obstacles. Friends and family didn’t always understand their decision, and even their aliyah date was delayed. Eventually, they were approved for the final pre-chagim aliyah flight on Wednesday, September 1 – but even that nearly fell apart when their visas became stuck in a jammed FedEx drop box, requiring a repair ticket to retrieve them.
After taking their mandatory Covid tests, they said tearful goodbyes and headed to the airport with their children and 12 duffel bags in tow. Just as boarding was about to begin, they were told the airport was shut down due to flooding caused by a hurricane. Stranded, they made it to a relative’s home nearby – only to learn that their unsold house had also flooded, and friends were working to bail out water. They rebooked their flight, which meant retaking Covid tests and struggling to confirm results without functioning phones. They finally landed in Israel on erev Rosh Hashana, stepping into quarantine with almost no furniture, no bank account, no Israeli ID, no car, and no jobs. On their second night, they even found a scorpion in the apartment. Eleven days later, they left quarantine – only for their daughter’s school to send her right back after half a day when a classmate tested positive.
The beginning proved to be similarly difficult. Not only did they arrive in Israel without jobs but their money was being sunk into a house in America that had been destroyed from the flood. Effie saw a job for a low-level desk job that was far below his experience level and went in for an interview on the day between when quarantine ended and Yom Kippur began. He was offered a position in IT that somehow grew to Director of IT at Aish HaTorah, where he has the additional benefit of viewing the Kotel and Har HaBayit everyday at work. Rebecca took Ulpan, worked remotely, helped her kids get settled, and hosted a lot, but for a person who thrived on being busy, it wasn’t easy.
At the end of June, an acquaintance reached out to ask if Rebecca would consider running the English department at Netzach and teach a few classes. “I laughed and told her I have never taught English before in my life, I wouldn’t know where to begin, let alone how to run the department. She assured me that all I needed was my knowledge of how to teach, and how to be an administrator, and it would fall into place.”
With the support of a dedicated team and an exceptional principal, Rebecca helped develop a new program, drawing on her background and research skills. One of the greatest challenges was operating in a language she wasn’t fluent in. From paperwork to staff meetings, transferring her teaching license to simply engaging with colleagues – everything felt foreign. She often felt like she wasn’t coming across as the experienced and capable educator she had always been, but rather as an outsider, struggling to express herself and understand the cultural nuances around her. Despite the difficulty, she faced each day as an uphill battle that gradually earned her the respect of others – and, perhaps more importantly, herself.
By her second year, after working hard on her Hebrew, she was entrusted with the additional role of Olim Coordinator. Though imposter syndrome still lingers at times, she’s found a new outlet for her passion – different than before, but deeply fulfilling.
“With my job, I became someone people saw as busy, who liked to do, and it felt good to be that person again – and then the war hit. I watched my family struggle emotionally – which was nothing compared to my neighbors who were sending their children to war.”
Before Thanksgiving, Eli Berkovits – always in motion – asked if anyone wanted to come barbecue for chayalim. Rebecca knew Effie would want to help. He’s great at grilling, and she’s a natural organizer, so they volunteered. That first barbecue took place right at the border near the Rafah Crossing – and it was unforgettable.
What started with just a few grills quickly grew. Rebecca began lending out their own grills to others heading out, and soon their garage was packed with equipment. They started thinking more strategically: What other supplies should they stock? How could they better coordinate volunteers? Before long, their grassroots effort had become a full-fledged operation – run right out of their garage.
To date, the group has organized nearly 100 barbecues, all by volunteers, funded through grassroots fundraising and sheer determination. A WhatsApp group now includes over 180 members ready to drop everything – often with just a few hours’ notice – to grill for the soldiers. As Rebecca puts it, “I don’t have a husband or a son in the army, but I feel like I am doing something to help.”
Life in Israel, for Rebecca, feels more purposeful than anything she experienced in the U.S. She’s struck by the sincerity of the people, their love of Torah, of Hashem, and of one another. “I love that I feel unity everywhere I go,” she says. “Cars stop in the middle of busy streets to help an old man who fell, and no one honks, but more people get out to help.” Even small, chaotic moments – like being bumped into on a sidewalk – often end with a smile and a heartfelt “are you okay?”
It hasn’t always been easy. Their house flooded, and it took time to sell it after they made aliyah. But they made it through with strong will – and a lot of emunah. “Hashem didn’t hand us what we wanted or expected,” Rebecca says, “but we found our way.”
