Yad L'Achim Battered Women Rescue

If it was your daughter or sister…..
In truth, she is. We are all brothers and sisters.
Save her life and the life of her children
 

…Take Sara, a Jewish woman who grew up in a broken home with no love and no emotional support.

After meeting “Moshe”, she was ensnared by his smooth talks and gifts. Unfortunately once she discovers he is Mohammed, it is too late; she cannot imagine anything can go wrong and she is psychologically kidnapped.

In a situation where her husband raises his hand against her and threatens her, she wants to leave, but there is nowhere for her to go – except for Yad L’Achim.

Yad L’Achim will help rescue here and her children and help them start a new life.  The rescues will take place even if it means facing a dangerous situation in a hostile village. The trained team is able to rescue any woman who otherwise could not escape her fate.

Hundreds of Jewish Children are now living happy healthy lives because of you.

Yad L’Achim recently received word of three cases of women and their children that need to be rescued from Arab Villages. As they can only escape with the shirts on their back, we need to provide them with basic living expenses to get them on their feet. This includes rent, food, counseling and basic necessities.

Please help in the great mitzvah of Pidyon Shvuyim – redeeming of captives during this auspicious time of the year.

You can donate on this secure website (by clicking the DONATE NOW button on the top right hand of the website) and submit names for the special tefillah on Erev Rosh Hashana and Erev Yom Kippur by entering your names into the comment section or by emailing [email redacted] after (or prior to) your donation
If you have any questions or require further assistance you can email [email redacted] as well. 


Yad L'Achim is a registered 501(c)(3) registered tax-deductible non-profit organization
According to Psak Rabbonim: Donation can be made with Maaser Money. 


 History: Yad L’Achim was founded in 1950 to tackle problems of assimilation, proselytizing and to educate new immigrants about Jewish religious values in Israel.

 Yad L’Achim gets some 2,000 calls a year reporting cases of intermarriage between Jews and Arabs and Jewish women being in abusive and problem relationships. Some, trapped in violent homes. Our Anti-Assimilation department responds to all such calls. In some cases, this means launching military-like rescues from hostile Arab villages and setting the women up in “safe” houses around the country, where they can build new lives for themselves.

We:
      Locate the woman

      Provide them a safety net

      Risk our lives to help them escape

      Arrange a safe home

      Provide counseling & custody assistance

 
Many Jewish women are trapped in violent situations without hope. Please join us and donate to help more battered women and their children return to their heritage in a safe environment that they lack.
PLEASE HELP US HELP THE CHILDREN.


“Yad L’Achim — My New Parents” — A Personal Story 


 I GREW UP IN A FAMILY that was what you’d call “problematic.” My parents always fighting and never had the time or energy for me. They never even knew whether I went to school. One day, Ben walked into my life. He sensed that I was under a lot of emotional pressure and gave me just what I needed: attention. He showered me with gifts of clothes, jewelry and flowers. I couldn’t have been happier; finally, someone was paying some attention to me.

When he proposed marriage, promising to provide me with a warm, supportive home, I didn’t hesitate. I thought, who would want to marry me — with my family background? At some point during the marriage proceedings, the Muslim court notified me that I would, from then on, be considered a Muslim. As soon as we were married, Ben’s attitude toward me had changed. He closed me up in the house, day and night” “Now you are married,” he said, “and you are not allowed to go out.” It didn’t take long for the beatings to begin. If he decided that I hadn’t prepared his food to his liking, my punishment was painful and swift in coming.

 
You’re Finished

When my parents discovered that I had married an Arab, they sat shiva for me. They instructed my brothers and sisters to cut off all contact with me. I knew that even if I could escape, there was no place for me to go. I had no one in the world besides my Arab husband. When I gave birth to my oldest son, my husband informed me that, in accordance with Muslim tradition, the boy would be named after his grandfather. When I gave birth to my daughter, he and his family again gave her a name, but I added a Jewish name to her birth certificate. When we returned from the hospital, my husband’s sister looked at the birth certificate and began screaming at him: “What’s this? You gave your daughter a Jewish name?”

All eyes turned to me. I tried to explain that she had also been given an Arab name, but no avail. He beat me mercilessly. The newborn was in my arms and my young son was holding on to me crying, while my husband pummeled me with his fists. His parents, brothers and sisters watched, but no one tried to calm him down or even to take the baby from my arms so she wouldn’t be hurt. To the contrary, they egged him on, telling him to beat me harder so that I would “understand.” And then, when I was hurting from head to toe and thoroughly humiliated, he told me to bring them some coffee and cookies and “then we’ll see what we will do.”

During these years, I tried to return to my family, but they acted as if I didn’t exist. At one point, after I’d given birth to my fourth child, my husband came up with a new system of punishment: knowing how much my children meant to me, he would take them away to his parents for a month at a time. This was torture for me, not to see my children.

One day, when my daughter was 15, he decided that I wasn’t doing a good enough job educating her. He transferred her to his parents’ care, and announced that he was severing my relationship with her permanently. When I called the house and asked to speak to my daughter, my sister-in-law picked up the phone and said, “What are you talking about? You have no daughter.” I was in shock. I felt as if they had murdered me. I called my in-laws’ house and insisted on knowing what had happened to my daughter. My husband was furious. He went to the kitchen, took two long knives used to slaughter sheep, and began sharpening them against one another. “That’s it,” he swore, “you’re finished.”

My young son began to plead for my life, “Father, enough, father enough,” but my husband wouldn’t listen. I stood transfixed, too frightened to move. Just then, a car showed up and the driver began honking the horn. A friend of my husband’s had come to take him somewhere. He put down the knives and said, “Go upstairs now. We’ll settle this later.”

As soon as he left, I grabbed my son and ran out the back door. I ran as hard as I could, not knowing where I was going. I knew I had no family to turn to, but I also knew that I had to get away. I couldn’t stay any longer. At some point I reached an Arab house in the middle of nowhere. I knocked on the door and made up a story. I asked them to drive me to the main road, and once there, took a cab to my sister in Netanya. It was late when I knocked on her door. She answered very coolly and said that I could stay the night, but would have to leave first thing in the morning. She said she wasn’t looking for trouble. The next day, at 6 a.m., we left. I phoned a hotline for battered women and we were given a place to stay in one of their shelters.

 Saved by a Newspaper Ad

I contacted the police and, two weeks later, my daughter was returned to me. When she arrived at the shelter she was frightened and in shock. It took two months before she could speak. For eight months we moved from shelter to shelter. The situation was intolerable. One day, I saw a small ad in the paper about Yad L’Achim helping Jewish women trapped in Arab villages. I called the number, and a woman named Devorah answered. Right after we spoke, she arrived and took us to a hotel. Since then, we have been in daily contact.

Within a short time, Yad L’Achim rented an apartment for me in Bnei Brak and furnished it with an oven, refrigerator, beds, towels, blankets, sheets ... everything we needed. I still hadn’t made contact with my parents, but I felt like I had a new mother and father. It was just before Pesach, and Tzipporah asked me where I was planning to spend the holiday. When I answered that I didn’t know, she said, “You and your children are going to spend fifteen days in a hotel.”

For me, that Pesach felt like what our forefathers must have felt in leaving Egypt. It’s difficult to describe the feeling of freedom I felt after so many years of suffering, of not being able to experience the holiday or share it with my children. We were acclimating to Bnei Brak and my children were attending school. But then he found us. He kept us under surveillance and one day, when my daughter was coming home from school, he kidnapped her. I went to the police, but it wasn’t easy getting her out of his hands. Yad L’Achim hired two lawyers who got a court order forcing him to release my daughter, but it took two months until she was returned to me, and much more time until she recovered from the trauma. My connection with my two sons who were left in the Arab village was severed. He wouldn’t allow me any contact with them.

My youngest son will celebrate his bar mitzvah next Rosh Hashanah. He was very young when we left the village and feels Jewish in every way. A year ago, thanks to legal battles waged on my behalf by Yad L’Achim, I received a divorce. My daughter is still having a hard time, torn between the two worlds she has known. I am grateful to G-d for the day I connected with Yad L’Achim and received a new family. At the same time, I know that there are many other Jewish women who are suffering in Arab villages.


For their sake, I turn to you with a heartfelt plea: Please, help Yad L’Achim help them.