A Road to Hope: Israel’s Streets Before the Hostages Returned

Just a couple days before the hostages' release, I photographed the roads of Israel, an unexpected collective gallery of hope and solidarity. At every corner and edge of the streets are posters, handmade signs, and art installments -- two years of emotions that have accumulated into visual representations of a country in grief, pain, and war.

Those few days before the hostages finally came home, there was a cautious optimism in the air, as if the nation was holding its breath. On a drive from the Galilee to Tel Aviv, my bestie, Dan, and I discussed the topic on everyone's minds -- could this be it? Would they finally be coming home? I was full of hope, and so, I frantically photographed every piece of history I could, including those aforementioned signs, posters, flags, and even the yellow-painted cars ( that read, "די די די," meaning, "Stop stop stop."

Yellow is the symbolic color of support for the hostages and those lost in the war. As we passed a kibbutz, yellow banners and Israeli flags caught my eye. Along the roadside, there were nearly a dozen people standing united, facing the road, waving to passing honking cars.

"Dan, can you turn around?" I asked him.

"The things I do for you," he sighed. "I'll drop you off. You go take photos. What do you need? Fifteen minutes?"

Fifteen minutes stretched a little longer, but my heart filled as I spoke with the members of the community. Every Saturday, after Shabbat ends, they came to the roadside to express their support for the hostages. There are studies that show that resilience and strength is greatly fostered by community. What better example is there than this?

Remember that book series, Chicken Soup for the Soul? This was the real dose right here. My soul and heart were full to the brim. Hope overflowed within me. "Do you realize this may be the last time they come out here?" Dan asked me. I relayed the message to one of the rally members I spoke to. What else was there to say except, "I hope"?

When the sun finally began to set, everyone headed back into the kibbutz. One woman gave me her sign. It reads, "הביתה," which translates to "home."

Here, I share with you the roads of Israel as they stood during wartime. When the hostages finally returned home, the yellow cars and many of the roadside signage and posters were finally removed.

Amongst the images below, you'll see the yellow flags; gratitude to the US/Trump for getting the last of the living hostages returned home; a bumper sticker on a van that reads, "Brother kidnapped in Gaza"; various signs and banners that express a wish for every single kidnapped person to return home; and tributes to individuals who have died during the war.

This week will mark the second Shabbat that the hostages (they are no longer hostages!!) will spend back home with their loved ones. I often wonder what it is like for them to return and hope they are recovering steadily and surely.

This country is very communal, and as you can imagine, it is intense. But it is very loving and warm. Everyone feels like family, for better or for worse (just like any other family).

I have now been here for two months and two days. (But who's counting?) Words cannot describe the deep satisfaction I feel to be in a place that feels like home, around people who are so similar to me. (If you worked at Disney and felt that family feeling, you might understand the magic in my heart right now.) When the war with Iran began, while family and friends were asking me if I was reconsidering my decision to move to Israel, it was quite the opposite. I felt a profound need to be here, with my people. I understand how scary those days were, and you may call me naive, but the feeling remains now. So, to be here during this historic moment, when our people finally came back home...Well, maybe you can imagine the emotions that connected us in those moments.

That being said, may the historic moments to come be better paths to peace.