The Chaverim M’ Israel in Cincinnati

A year ago, at Valley Temple Sunday School, I met the Shinshinim (Chaverim M’ Israel in Cincinnati); the young Israeli emissaries who volunteer in Jewish communities abroad before starting their military service. 

They were two kind and thoughtful 18-year-old women, living far from home and representing Israel to the American Jewish community. It was only a few months after October 7, and while their country faced an existential threat—and their friends and classmates were on the front lines—these young women were in the Midwest, cheerfully teaching children about Tu B’Shvat. 

They were staying with host families and would remain in the U.S. through the summer to work at Jewish camps, before returning to Israel to begin their army service.

I immediately told them they could stay with me but they didn’t need a place to stay at the time; they were already living with their second host families. 

Each Chaver spends a year in the U.S., living with two families—five months each—and then spends the last two months at camp.

But they did mention that next year’s Chaverim still needed host families. 

Without consulting my daughter or husband, I gladly offered our home. With my family’s enthusiastic support and a few applications, we became a host family, and Naama became our host daughter.

People asked why, with a daughter in her junior year of high school, I’d want one more person in the house—one more mouth to feed, one more schedule to juggle. But that’s exactly why we were a good fit. 

Host families are important, but host siblings are essential. 

And thankfully, my daughter was willing to host.

For me, it was a Mama Bear moment. Anti-Zionism was becoming louder across the U.S. (and yes, we can talk later about how much of it is just antisemitism in disguise). I wanted to offer a safe, welcoming home to one Israeli kid in a world growing increasingly hostile toward Israelis. It felt like something tangible I could do—for Cincinnati’s Jewish community and for global Jewry.

The author’s daughter and host daughter. (courtesy)

But it turned out to be so much more. For a short time, our family expanded. 

We had two daughters sitting at the dinner table and telling us about their days. My daughter got a sister. They laughed together, made Target runs, and, like all siblings, sometimes wrestled. 

Their love language was watching Gilmore Girls and insulting each other.

I remember when Naama moved in with just two suitcases for the whole year, and perfect, unaccented English. Her parents, both post-docs in physics, had spent time in Colorado, and she learned English in grade school. We quickly discovered that while she’d eat almost anything, she didn’t eat leaves—no salad, kale, or collards.

We also discovered she could sleep through anything: alarms, security systems, me exercising in the next room, and any car ride over 20 minutes. Naama is whip-smart, sarcastic, and hilarious—just like my daughter. It felt like the perfect match. She helped in the kitchen, was always polite, and showed up on time (unlike me). She brought new snacks, like dubonim and some awesome spice mixes. Oh, and I need to mention that she was a pro at parking her car either forward or reverse—an admirable skill with our long driveway.

The previous summer, when my daughter went on her teen tour to Israel, she visited Naama’s family just to get to know them. 

I was nervous and grateful—this family took care of my daughter for two nights. They told me they felt the same way about us, only their daughter would be gone for a full year. Eventually, we met Naama’s entire family—parents and three younger siblings—in New York City. It was a joy.

After five months that flew by, Naama moved on to her second host family. Our house felt empty. I’m proud that we gave one Israeli kid a safe, warm home. But if I’m being honest, five months wasn’t enough. 

I didn’t want her to leave. I’d do it all again. 

She stayed with us this past weekend while her other host family was away, and I couldn’t have been happier. I’d do it all again. I wish she could stay longer. But now we’ve built what I hope will be a lifelong relationship with not just one Israeli young woman, but with her entire family.

Naama told me that the program is looking for hosts for next year. I can’t recommend it enough. If you would like to apply, you need a bedroom, an open heart, and the desire to give one kid a safe place to land for a bit. Please reach out to Christine Katzman at the Jewish Federation of Cincinnati for more information: [email protected].

I’m one of the co-hosts of The Kibbitz Podcast, where my friend Melissa and I kibbitz about all that’s important to us as two Jewish moms from Cincinnati. If this article resonated with you, click here to listen to the podcast.