I’m writing this message from Jerusalem, where scheduled meetings in Israel this week took a different turn following the escalating war in Ukraine. Before returning to Israel for Shabbat, I spent 36 hours in Poland, which has opened its borders to a massive influx of refugees, by some counts now approaching 90,000 a day — a heartbreaking reality I don’t think any of us expected to witness again in this part of the world.

Though Poland has opened all eight of its border crossings and relaxed documentation requirements, lines are excruciatingly long, with some waiting 50 hours or more, and many abandoning cars that have run out of gas along the way. Understandably, people who just a week ago were living normal lives are utterly shell-shocked, fearful for family members not with them, uncertain of what lies ahead.

But importantly — and given the history of our people, it cannot be stressed enough — they are not alone.

When the refugees reach the border, there are people welcoming them with placards bearing the names and logos of familiar Jewish organizations — our partners and grantees, who are well known and trusted throughout eastern Europe. These agencies, the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) and the Jewish Agency for Israel, our two largest overseas agencies, together with other grassroots organizations and local Jewish communities, are working in concert to offer food, medicine, shelter, psychological counseling, and more to the thousands pouring in.

At a newly established Jewish community crisis management center in Warsaw — located in what was once the Warsaw Ghetto — volunteers and staff are working hotlines, triaging needs that are vast, immediate, and specific. Think, a mother who arrived with an autistic child who will only eat a particular type of rice. An elderly woman who needs to see a doctor quickly. A busload of people who drove for days and ran out of food. Others needing hotel rooms or apartments to stay in. People trying to reach consulates. For many, there’s also the comfort in just hearing a welcoming voice on the other end of the line.

And for those who choose, we are helping to facilitate aliyah to Israel. I visited a hotel near the airport in Warsaw, where the Jewish Agency has rented over 100 rooms for those wanting to make aliyah. The rooms are almost completely occupied. Indeed, the Jewish Agency reports that within the first days of the crisis, 5,000 people have requested to make aliyah, and the first planes carrying new olim are expected to arrive early next week. With a mix of deep sadness and gratitude, I'm preoccupied with the thought of what it would have meant had this been a choice for Jews in Poland 80 years ago.

For every person fleeing there is a story. One family that was staying in an apartment provided by JDC invited us to hear theirs. The grandfather was originally from Ukraine, now living in Israel, and flew to Warsaw to help get his 22-year-old daughter and 17-month-old granddaughter out of Kyiv. His daughter’s husband had stayed behind in Ukraine to fight (men ages 18 - 60 are generally not being permitted to leave). She described the desperation of people trying to get on the train, the jostling and fighting, with parents putting young children on the train alone to get them to safety. She said were it not for strangers who had helped with food along the way, she and the baby wouldn't have made it. The grandfather was enormously grateful for the shelter we’d helped provide for his family. And now his daughter wants to make aliyah through the Jewish Agency and has been told they'll be leaving soon.

We met with another group of 13 refugees who had crossed the border at midnight the night before, and were welcomed by JDC into a house in Kazimierz owned by the Jewish community of Warsaw. Some I spoke with wanted to make aliyah. Others hoped to return to Ukraine. Others were seeking to relocate in Poland. When I asked a man roughly my age what he wanted to do, he looked at me blankly and said in Hebrew: “Ein li koach.” I have no strength.

Others were too stunned and exhausted to speak with us at all.       

Back in Ukraine, the situation is quickly becoming an extremely dire humanitarian crisis, with Russian rockets hitting power stations and water pumps. Currently, 22% of Kyiv is without water and people are stockpiling food, which many fear will soon become scarcer.

We had a haunting Zoom call with JDC professionals still in and around Kyiv, and learned how its local staff, including accountants, IT workers, and lawyers, have now taken on the role of crisis coordinators, finding food or arranging housing for people who have been displaced. We also heard about JDC’s Hesed homecare workers who are now actually living with elderly clients who are in no shape to evacuate. Hearing of the heroism of these people, risking their lives to save lives, brought me to tears.

In response to the crisis, UJA has in the last seven days approved $3 million in emergency funding, and we will allocate significantly more in the days and weeks ahead. You can read about the details of the initial grantmaking here. In short, this funding is providing food, beds, shelter, medicine, psychological support, and other humanitarian aid. Please, if you can, we ask that you support these efforts. Funds are truly needed.

So many in our Jewish community have ties to Ukraine and neighboring countries. Some of our families left a generation or two ago, some have only ancestral ties. Some still have relatives living there. But for a twist of fate, we might be the ones now displaced or living under fire. Instead, we are in a position to help, and we must do so as we pray for a return to peace.

I will not soon forget the despair I saw on the faces of many this week. Or the man who said “Ein li koach,” I have no strength, a feeling no doubt shared by many others. And so in any way we can and for as long as is needed, we must be their strength.    

Shabbat shalom from Jerusalem