My dad grew up loving Westerns and always dreamed of riding horses. But being a city kid, raised in Boston, he never had the chance. One year, my mom surprised him with riding lessons, and he loved it. He connected with a local trainer, got into fox hunting and even bought a couple of horses.

Eventually, my parents decided that this would be their life. When I was two, they bought some land and started a farm. At first, we lived in a crowded cottage, but after a lot of hard work, we built our own house and settled in. My three older siblings and I became farm kids through and through. We trained and sold horses, gave riding lessons, and sold hay in the summer.

We learned every life lesson on the back of a horse. Whether it rained, snowed or it was twenty degrees outside, the animals still had to be fed. We faced life an death firsthand. When a horse died suddenly, we had process it and learn to move one. WE loved this life and took great pride in being raised this way.

At the time, I was living in Bat Yam near a busy highway. After the peaceful farm life I'd known, I struggled to sleep with all the noise.

Through a random encounter, I met a girl whose family lived on a moshav in the souther Golan. Visiting them was the first time I experienced what people often say about Israel: It felt like home.

The family welcomed me warmly and encouraged me to stay as long as I liked. I told them, "You can't say that because I will stay." In true Israeli fashion, they didn't hesitate and told me to stay.

So, I called my dad to tell him I'd found horses and nature and wasn't leaving the moshav. He reminded me that he had already paid for the program and that I needed to finish it. We compromised: I stayed on more day on the moshav, then returned to finish the program. I resolved to come back to Israel someday, but first I would finish college in America.
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‍College

Growing up, I was a happy and free child, but also shy. In Israel, I learned I didn't have to fit into any mold, and I grew into the outspoken and opinionated person I am today.

I planned to study Equine Science to become a veterinarian and enrolled at Colorado Stat University, which has on of the top programs in the country. Once there, I realized I wasn't as dedicated to veterinary science as I was to advocacy, so I added a degree in Agricultural Business to pursue a career in advocacy.

One summer, I reached out to the Colorado Farm Bureau about an internship. They told me they didn't offer one. My Israeli chutzpah kicked in, and I sad, "I want one anyway." My future boss responded, "Ok, we'll make one for you."

Agriculture Advocate

After graduation, I moved to DC to work in a regulatory role. At first, it was exciting to be "in the scene," but I quickly realized it wasn't for me. I didn't want to just talk about regulations - I wanted to shape public policy that would benefit agriculture. I knew I needed to get back out West. I applied for the Director of Stat Governmental Affairs position with the Montana Farm Bureau and was hired at twenty-two. I couldn't believe I was actually qualified for the position.
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Judaism in Montana

‍I didn't know anyone in Montana, but when I looked up the Bozeman office, the first thing that came up on Google Maps was a synagogue. It felt like a sign. I started attending Chabad for Friday night services, then Shabbat dinners, and eventually Saturday services as well. I really like Rabbi Chaim and Chavie.

At on service, a community member approached me and said, "You look like you might be interested in learning. Can I show you a few things? She was right - I did want to learn more. Chabad was a judgment-free space where I could grow at my own pace.

As my confidence in my Jewish identity grew, I began to prioritize it. I started taking time off for Jewish holidays, even though advocation for myself in that way was uncomfortable.

I noticed that I was drawn to shul whenever I faced challenges in life. I'd turn off my phone for a few hours and let go of whatever was stressing me out. Shabbat became a day to breath deeply, so by Monday I felt refreshed. Sure, the troubles of the would would return, but then I'd go to Shul on Saturday and find peace again. Chavie's Sunday Tanya classes also became a key part of my routine.

As I deepened my Jewish practice, I noticed positive changes in my life. The Bruk family delivered Judaism in a way that resonated with me. For the first time, I wasn't attending Shul out of guilt but because it was meaningful to me.

‍Back to Israel

‍As my Jewish identity grew, so did my desire to return to Israel. Living the Jewish life I wanted was challenging in Montana.

I asked Rabbi Chaim for a meeting and told him I needed a letter of recommendation because I was making Aliyah. He agreed, but insisted I needed a plan.

When the 2023 legislative session ended, I left Montana and spent a couple of months visiting friends and family. I sold my car and got rid of as much stuff as possible. In June 2023, my parents drove me from Tennessee to New York, where I boarded a plane to Israel.

‍Starting Over

‍Until this point, I'd only been to Israel twice - once for my gap year in 2014 and again for ten days in 2022. Now, I was moving there indefinitely, with no idea what to expect.

Surprisingly, the transition from Jewish life in Montana to Israel wasn't easy. I was used to services explained in English. In Israel, everything was in Hebrew, and people seemed to know what to do without any guidance. However, the diversity of Jerusalem allowed me to discover what was meaningful to me.

I moved to Israel just before October 7th, which impacted my journey and deepened my love for Israel and the Jewish people. Despite the challenges, life here is profoundly meaningful. I've never felt more myself or more proud to be Jewish and Israeli.

As I walk the streets of Jerusalem, I recollect on how different each chapter of my life has been. I still think of my Chabad family in Montana as the place where I truly came into my own. It remains the anchor for all the adventures that surely await me in this Holy Land.