At my family Rosh Hashanah dinner, the comforting routine that we repeat every year was in most respects recognizable. With the generation that went before us entirely gone, it is left to us, our children, nieces, nephews and friends to carry on the traditions, to intertwine the threads of eternity. As usual, I have my mother’s recipes, and my husband makes his mother’s brisket.  

But there are adaptations occasioned by a new reality. There is an empty chair for the lives lost and hostages held. We always have a large shofar on the dinner table as a centerpiece, but this year we attached yellow ribbons to it, representing those whose return we pray for. 

And we silently ask: How did we survive this past year? Can we justify saying shehecheyanu, expressing thanks for being allowed to reach this day? And as we have learned from the year now behind us—just as our ancestors did on so many occasions—we face our challenges because we must. And we recite the blessing. 

We are strengthened by the wisdom and heritage that have always sustained us. For the past year, the women of Hadassah and our institutions have responded to adversity through action, by strengthening one another and by tapping into the power of family, faith and experience. 

Now permanently burned into our collective memory, October 7 carries so much weight that the terrible details are implied just by invoking the date. It seems fitting that this first anniversary fell during the Days of Awe, the most solemn period of the Jewish year. I was in Israel to share Hadassah’s love and support and to mourn all those—men, women, children, elderly—who were massacred on October 7, and to grieve for all that has happened since. For families ripped apart by devastation and loss. For hostages kidnapped, brutalized and some savagely executed. For a nation plunged into war and soldiers killed or wounded. And for Jews worldwide who have been shocked by a new wave of hostility aimed at us. Not one of us has been untouched. 

If grief was our only reaction to October 7 we would be untrue to our purpose. But if you are part of the Hadassah family, you already know how we have risen to the occasion, how we have been faithful to the legacy of Hadassah’s founding mothers and all those who went before us. 

Within hours of the initial Hamas attack, our medical center was treating victims of terror and combat. Despite shortages due to medical personnel mobilized for reserve duty, our staff worked around the clock and even expanded capacity. We accelerated the opening of our new Gandel Rehabilitation Center on Mount Scopus, and later the opening of the first floors of our renovated Round Building on our Ein Kerem campus. Our Youth Aliyah villages made room for students and families evacuated from areas near the Gaza and Lebanese borders.  

In America, we have advocated like never before, making our voices heard in defense of Israel and in the fight against antisemitism. The difference we have made together is far greater than the impact any of us could have made as individuals. 

As we heal, shelter, mobilize, march and advocate, there is another force behind us: Every mile walked, every muscle flexed, every tear shed and every dollar raised by every Hadassah woman over the past 112 years. 

We have been so intensely occupied with the demands of our time that we can sometimes lose sight of simple pleasures and honors. So, it came not so much as a surprise but a welcome interruption a few weeks ago when we learned of the Hadassah Medical Organization’s inclusion on Newsweek’s annual “World’s Best Specialized Hospitals” list. In the 2025 rankings, Hadassah earned a spot for the fifth consecutive year for cardiology and the fourth year for oncology. Our work continues to contribute to Israel’s role as a light unto the nations. 

In this difficult time, may we harvest hope, take comfort in our unity and solidarity, and may we find our way to peace.