Morris Schweky
When I made aliyah to Tzfat (Safed) six and a half years ago, I could not have imagined the life that awaited me.
I grew up in Brooklyn’s SY community, surrounded by family and tradition, where everyone knows how to show up for one another. When I was eighteen, my mother and I started Stitches, a needlepoint business that became a familiar part of the Syrian community. We ran it together for fifteen years, getting to know our customers and helping them turn their ideas into one-of-a-kind pieces. Moving to Israel meant stepping away from work I loved and had put my heart and soul into, to begin again in the Holy Land.
My Israel Experience
Three and a half years after making aliyah, I met my wife. We settled in northern Israel and were married one month before October 7th. We have since been blessed with a beautiful baby girl, and much of our family life has unfolded against the background of war.
Like so many communities up north, Tzfat changed dramatically after October 7th. Tourism disappeared, businesses struggled, and daily life revolved around uncertainty, sirens, and bomb shelters. After working from home for so long, my wife and I agreed that I needed a change of atmosphere and a renewed sense of purpose.
That was when I was introduced to Mordechai Kaplan, who was managing Beit Binyamin. At first, I thought I had found a job. Over time, I realized Hashem had opened a door I never expected.
Enter Beit Binyamin
Beit Binyamin was created by Jen and Rob Airley of Beit Shemesh (originally from NY and the UK, respectively) after the loss of their beloved son, Sergeant Binyamin Meir Airley, H’yd, who fell in Gaza on November 18, 2023 (5 Kislev 5784), at just 21 years old, only a little more than a month after the war began.
Before Binyamin’s passing, the Airley’s purchased a beautiful property in Tzfat with plans to make an Airbnb. Their overwhelming grief transformed that vision into a retreat home for soldiers and their families, a place where people carrying the weight of war could rest, reconnect, and begin to heal. In the process, it also became a source of livelihood for local tradespeople, artists, caterers, cleaners, and small businesses throughout Tzfat.
The house, with its ancient stone walls and beautiful pergola overlooking Meron, has a peace that is difficult to describe. It feels both like an escape and like home.
The Story Unfolds
As I became more involved, I met parents mourning children who had fallen defending Am Yisrael and soldiers arriving straight from the Lebanon front, grateful for a few days of rest, music, conversation, and good food.
Standing among them, I realized I had been invited into a much bigger story.
For the first time, Israel’s war was no longer something I was watching. It had become something that allowed me the privilege to serve Am Yisrael in my own way.
Before Passover, after a major cleanup of the property, I was offered the role of House Manager. My job was to prepare the house for each event and welcome every soldier and family. The position connected naturally with my background, but at Beit Binyamin those practical skills came to serve something far more meaningful.
A few days before Lag BaOmer, a group of soldiers arrived for an intensive three-day retreat. We filled those days with shiurim, music, spa treatments, meals, and an atmosphere of genuine unity.
Precious Pages Turned into Song
After the retreat, Mordechai asked me to dispose of papers left behind from one of the shiurim. When I brought them to the genizah, I noticed handwritten notes on the back.
The question at the top read: “Why do we fight?”
Three soldiers had poured out their hearts. I could not throw those pages away.
For nearly two hours I stood beside the genizah, reading and rereading their words. I realized there was a song hidden in those pages. I began writing, building the lyrics from their reflections, and “Soldiers of Truth” took shape.
When I shared it with Mordechai and the Airleys, they immediately understood these words deserved to be heard. Binyamin’s longtime counselor, mentor, and friend, Shlomo Lipman, himself a soldier, graciously agreed to sing and produce the song.
As I grew closer to Jen and Rob, I also felt I was getting to know Binyamin. I heard about his mischievousness, his aspirations, and his determination to become a better person. One soul changed the course of an entire family, and through that family he continues to inspire a nation.
Then another part of the story unfolded.
A Painting Takes Flight
While scrolling through a WhatsApp art group, I came across a heartfelt video from an artist asking for help. One of her paintings, Kiddush HaShem, had been copied and reposted on X by a vicious anti-Semite who hoped to mock the work, the artist, and the message behind it. Instead, the post introduced the painting to more than 2.7 million people. Rather than hide, she encouraged people to keep sharing it, believing that truth would travel farther than hatred.
When the painting was revealed, my heart stopped. It showed an Israeli soldier making kiddush over a cup of wine. I immediately knew it belonged at Beit Binyamin.
The artist was Jordana Hanono, a talented member of the SY community from New York. Since October 7th, she had devoted herself to painting Israeli soldiers and donated her first year’s collection to support Israel’s war effort.
Learning that Jordana was also from the SY community made the connection even more meaningful. Here was someone from our own community using her gifts to stand up for Am Yisrael through art.
Once Jen understood the story behind the painting, she immediately saw what I saw. This was more than an image of a soldier. It was an image of Jewish identity, sacrifice, faith, and the longing to return home for Shabbat.
It felt only natural that kiddush Hashem would become the cover artwork for Soldiers of Truth. A painting inspired by Israeli soldiers now embraces a song born from the reflections of Israeli soldiers. Though they have never met, they are telling the same story.
Today, kiddush Hashem hangs at Beit Binyamin, greeting the very soldiers and families whose experiences inspired both the painting and the song.
The soldiers, the song, and Jordana’s artwork all tell the same story: each is fighting for Am Yisrael in its own way.
The Essence of Beit Binyamin
To me, that connection captures everything Beit Binyamin represents: grieving parents who transformed unimaginable loss into purpose, soldiers who continue to inspire through their courage, an artist from our SY community using her talent to fight anti-Semitism, and a fellow member of the SY community from Brooklyn who somehow found himself helping bring their stories together.
Every time I open the doors of Beit Binyamin, I meet another soldier, another grieving parent, or another family searching for strength. I see how Binyamin’s life continues through every retreat, every meal, every conversation, every song, and every work of art.
I am deeply grateful to Hashem for bringing me here. What I thought was simply a new job became an opportunity to witness courage, kindness, sacrifice, and faith in ways that continue to shape me every day.
To my fellow members of the SY community, I hope you’ll visit Beit Binyamin and experience this remarkable place for yourselves. I would be honored to welcome you and share some of the extraordinary stories that continue to unfold within its walls. Whether by visiting, supporting our mission, making a donation, or simply sending words of encouragement to the soldiers and families who pass through our doors, you can become part of their story as well.
I came looking for a job. Instead, Hashem brought me to a place where stories meet.
For that, I am forever grateful.
Contact Beit Binyamin at office@beitbinymin.org.