Three years ago, on October 7, 2023, a day meant for celebration became one of the most painful in modern Jewish history. It was Shabbat and Simchat Torah, a time when communities gather to dance with the Torah and begin its reading anew. Instead, families in Israel faced unimaginable violence and loss, and the Jewish world woke to heartbreak.

Here in Atlanta, that heartbreak was personal. It arrived through phone calls to relatives, through names we recognized, and through the horrible understanding that people connected to us by family, friendship, and faith were living through the unthinkable. Many of us still carry those first days with us.

As we mark this third anniversary, we remember the lives taken, those who were held captive, and the families forever changed. We hold their memories with reverence, and we hold one another close.

We also recognize a weight many in our community have carried since that day: rising antisemitism at home and around the world. For some, it has meant thinking twice before wearing a Star of David, feeling unwelcome on campus or at work, or explaining hard news to a frightened child. For others, it has meant feeling misunderstood, unfairly labeled, and judged. The steady, low hum of worry is hard to name, and even harder to set down.

That toll is real. Grief, fear, anger, exhaustion, and isolation are human responses to painful events, and they don't follow a set timeline. Anniversaries can bring these feelings back to the surface, sometimes unexpectedly. Some of us feel more on edge than usual; others feel numb, or tired in a way sleep doesn't fix. None of this is a sign of weakness; it is a sign of how deeply we care.

Jewish tradition offers guidance for moments like this. Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh: all of Israel is responsible for one another. We are not meant to carry grief alone, and we are not meant to let fear define us. Pirkei Avot, a classic collection of Jewish ethical teachings, reminds us that it is not our duty to finish the work, but neither are we free to desist from it. The work of healing, of showing up for one another, and of building a community where everyone can live openly and safely continues.

Since 1891, JF&CS has walked alongside our community through times of hardship and times of hope. That commitment has not changed. Our values are guided by compassion, respect, and the belief that every person deserves to feel supported and whole.

On this anniversary, we invite you to pause. Light a candle, say the names you hold close, check in on someone who may be struggling, or simply take a moment to breathe. And if this season feels heavier than you expected, you don't have to navigate it alone.*

May the memories of those lost be a blessing, and may we continue to find strength in one another. Zichronam livracha (זכרונם לברכה).

כל ישראל ערבים זה בזה

*If you need us, our clinical team is here to listen. Get started here.