Women travel to Majdal Shams to help mothers of children killed in Hezbollah attack
Aware of the need for mental health support in the Druze town that lost 12 children, volunteers cross a cultural divide, offering alternative treatments to ease grief
MAJDAL SHAMS — Druze women dressed in black filed into the lobby of a yoga studio in Majdal Shams last Thursday, their grief still palpable and etched on their faces.
Six weeks earlier, on July 27, Hezbollah launched an Iranian-made Falaq-1 with a warhead of over 50 kilograms (110 pounds) of explosives from Lebanon, killing 12 children and teenagers on a soccer field in Majdal Shams. It was the single deadliest Hezbollah attack since the terror group began striking northern Israel on October 8, one day after the Hamas massacre in southern Israel.
Hezbollah has since attacked military posts and communities along the border on a near-daily basis, with leader Hassan Nasrallah saying it is doing so to support Hamas amid the war in Gaza.
So far, the skirmishes have resulted in 26 civilian deaths on the Israeli side, as well as the deaths of 20 IDF soldiers and reservists. There have also been several attacks from Syria, without any injuries.
“I organized this day retreat to give the grieving women of Majdal Shams a chance to begin to heal their mind, body, heart, and soul through alternative treatments,” said Nechama Shaina Langer of Pardes Hanna, whose work is sponsored by Maman, a nonprofit organization in California.
There were also volunteers from Chayal’s Angels, a group that has given 6,970 free healing treatments to soldiers throughout the country since the war began. Tasha Cohen, founder of Chayal’s Angels, wanted to go to Majdal Shams despite the hazards.
With Cohen in the lead, a group of four cars filled with women and equipment headed north through areas under Hezbollah bombardment, along roads lined with trees that had been damaged by falling rockets, drones, and shrapnel. It was the first time the volunteers — who came from as far as Jerusalem — were treating civilians and only women.
Aroba Abu Saleh donated her yoga and dance studio, called Khutwa, or “step” in Arabic, for the day’s retreat.
“It’s the least I can do to help,” said Abu Saleh, who lost several family members in the attack.
In her spacious studio, with the lights dimmed low, the volunteers quickly set up tables, candles, and flow chimes for sound healing.
Naela Fakher Eldin, whose 11-year-old daughter, Alma, was killed on the soccer field, was one of the first to arrive. She wore a pin with Alma’s photograph on her chest.
“This is a loss I’ll feel for the rest of my life,” Eldin told a Times of Israel reporter. “Alma is my angel.”
After a gentle greeting, Cohen asked Eldin and her mother, Adele Abu Jabal, who was wearing traditional Druze garb and a white head covering, where they felt pain.
“My mother has a lot of heat coming out of her feet,” Eldin said.
“Which treatments would you like?” Cohen asked. “We have massage, reflexology, sound healing, and acupuncture.”
The women hesitated; this was the first time they had heard of sound healing, and they had never had an acupuncture treatment. Cohen was unfazed by their reluctance; she knew she had to cross a cultural divide to convince them to trust the team of volunteers.
“Lean into us,” Cohen urged. “Let us support you.”
At home, without shelter
Outside the studio, there were sounds of children playing and shouting in a nearby school. The sky was a cloudless bright blue and the sun shone on the southern foothills of Mount Hermon, but the women were awash in collective grief.
“We have never felt protected since the start of the war,” said Abu Saleh. “Some of the houses don’t have any shelters.”
Before the 1967 Six Day War when Israel conquered the Golan, Majdal Shams was part of Syria. Israel officially annexed the area, a strategic high ground, in 1981, but many Druze refused Israeli citizenship, some out of concern for close relatives still in Syria.
Today, even without citizenship, Golan’s Druze are considered permanent residents of Israel with access to healthcare, education, and other social services, and freedom of movement inside Israel.
There are 12,000 people in Majdal Shams, the largest of four Druze settlements in the plateau. With the other three towns — Ein Qiniyye, Mas’ade, and Buq’ata — the overall Druze population in the Golan stands at 20,000, living alongside about 50,000 Jewish Israelis.
The Druze, who number about one million worldwide, are a monotheistic offshoot of Islam but do not consider themselves Muslim. Their religious beliefs are secretive; the community is tight-knit and insular. There are approximately 150,000 Druze in Israel.
The Druze have a belief in the reincarnation of souls, said Enaea Safadi, whose daughter, Venes, 11, was killed in the attack. “That belief helps me,” she said.
Safadi recounted that when she and her husband, Adhm, heard the explosions that Saturday, they rushed down to the soccer field, which is in the middle of the town.
“There was my daughter, on the right side of the gate,” she said. “When I saw her, I knew she was dead.”
After her husband, a Magen David Adom (MDA) paramedic, found their daughter, he put aside his grief to help the wounded.
“Venes was smart and fun and loved people,” Enaea said. “We believe that God gives and God takes away.”
Chaya Ben Baruch from Safed, a volunteer who gave acupuncture treatments, shared with the women about how she had lost three children, all of whom had Down’s syndrome.
“You never get over losing a child,” Ben Baruch said. “And you never forget them.”
By the end of the day, the volunteers had given 48 treatments. Cohen said that after the first few treatments, the women more readily trusted the volunteers. They even wanted to try sound healing and acupuncture, but they had run out of time.
Meeting the mental health need
Langer said she got the idea to give alternative treatments to women in Majdal Shams after talking to Sara Raoof Jacobs of Maman, a nonprofit that continues to provide financial assistance for various programs in Israel throughout the war.
Jacobs started Maman, which means mother in Persian, after seeing the “power of my mother’s Iranian Jewish community” which supported her mother while she battled with cancer.
Soon after the Hezbollah attack, Jacobs heard from Rania Fadia Dean, a Druze woman from the northern city of Maghar who now lives in Los Angeles and volunteers as an advocate for Israel.
Jacobs said that Dean told her, “We have to help. These are my people.” The two immediately began raising money for alternative treatments in Majdal Shams. These would supplement the various mental health programs, including individual and group therapy, offered by health management organizations (HMOs).
“As a mom myself, I can’t imagine the amount of pain these moms are going through,” Dean said. “It is devastating.”
Jacobs and Dean enlisted Langer, who had been doing hands-on treatments for the Kibbutz Be’eri survivors of the October 7 massacre when thousands of Hamas-led terrorists broke through the border into southern Israel and killed some 1,200 people and took 251 hostages. The terrorists killed 101 people on that kibbutz alone.
“Trauma is held in the body,” Langer said after her day in Majdal Shams, explaining that reflexology helped the women hear that “still, small voice” inside them.
“Some of the women cried a lot while I was just holding their head,” Langer recounted. “I told them to notice the parts that were feeling powerful and the parts that felt pain. And so they began this quiet conversation and listened to what their body said.”
She and some of the other volunteers plan to continue weekly visits to Majdal Shams to offer alternative treatments to “help release some of the women’s pain.”
“We adapted what we normally do for soldiers for the women, and we were sensitive to their needs,” Cohen said. “They went from not breathing and being so unbearably broken to feeling like they were being held.”
“We were grateful for the women who gave with all their heart, sharing our heavy sorrow,” said Dallal Abu Saleh, whose son, Hazem, 15 was killed. Hazem was a member of the Bnei HaGolan VeHaGalil (MMBA) Football Club.
Abu Saleh of the yoga studio said she hadn’t expected people from all over the country to come help in Majdal Shams.
“I didn’t think people would support us so much,” she said.
Gianluca Pacchiani contributed to this article.
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