Delivering Challah (and Jewish Wisdom) to Ukraine’s Jews this Shavuot

Volunteerism is how Lyudmila O. lives her Jewish life — and this Shavuot, she's telling the world about an exciting JDC program that lets her do just that.

By Lyudmila O. - JDC Volunteer; Sumy, Ukraine | June 11, 2024

Lyudmila O. has deepened her connection to her fellow Jews by volunteering to bake and deliver challah throughout the Ukraine crisis.

Soon after the start of the Ukraine crisis, Lyudmila O. grew closer to her Jewish community. Through her volunteer work at the JDC-supported Hesed Haim social welfare center in Sumy, Lyudmila, 72, began baking challah for elderly Jews in her community. But for Lyudmila, volunteering is more than just an act of service — it’s how she lives the timeless Jewish values passed down to us in the Torah. Now that it’s Shavuot, Lyudmila celebrates volunteerism as a vehicle for putting these values into action. 

Lyudmila O. rolls and braids dough to make challah.

Volunteering has enriched my life and made it more interesting.  

What I do is simple: I bake and deliver challah for elderly community members celebrating Shabbat. My deeper mission is more profound than that, though — in my own small way, I help people keep their Jewish roots and traditions. Each Shabbat, with the bread I bake, they’re able to light candles, bless the challah, and feel that Jewish history continues. 

In the middle of this crisis, we need continuity more than ever before. And when I bake challah, when I deliver it to my community, I feel connected to a Jewish past and future that’s so much larger than myself. I feel less alone. 

This journey started with my grandparents. They lived in Kyiv, and I’d often visit them when I was a child. Stepping into their home, I always felt I was entering a completely different world — with different food and a different language (I later learned this was Yiddish.). Grandma cooked mincemeat, chicken neck, and gefilte fish, the taste of which I’ve never been able to replicate. 

On Friday evening, all ten of us would gather at my grandparents’ dinner table. At the time, I thought it was just a nice way to mark the week’s end. But now I know this meal wasn’t just an end-of-week dinner — we were celebrating Shabbat.

After dinner, Grandfather Yonya would tell us stories. He was a master storyteller, and he told us tales of Jewish heroes. That’s how I learned that there are Jews in the world, and that my Babushka Tanya and Grandfather Yonya were among them. 

All of the strange and unfamiliar parts of my family life snapped into place: I was Jewish, too. 

My parents carried these traditions forward, embracing Jewish life after the Soviet Union collapsed. That’s why they gladly joined the JDC-supported Hesed Haim social welfare center here in Sumy more than 25 years ago. By that time, they were already retired and their incomes had plummeted — the 1990s were a difficult time for everyone. Thankfully, they received humanitarian aid from JDC, which helped them survive.

I also attended community events at Hesed Haim, but not as often as my parents — I was too busy studying and working. I encouraged my children to get involved in Hesed activities, and my daughter and niece joined the children’s programs and then the Hesed Youth Club.

When I finally retired, I followed the path my parents had taken; I also became a client of Hesed Haim. What mattered wasn’t just the literal assistance I received — though this is crucial as I live alone, and my children are far away — but a feeling of belonging to the Jewish community. Thanks to JDC, I participate in Hesed’s online and offline clubs as well as receive material support and winter relief. Before the crisis, I had more free time, and I began to participate in exciting events and celebrations. And when I was invited to join the Women’s Club, my friends there became my friends for life.

February 24, 2022 shattered this sense of peace and normalcy. 

We remember that day with horror. It all began at 5 a.m., when I heard my phone ring. It was my daughter-in-law calling to say we were being bombed. Then, I heard shooting and planes flying overhead. I ran and hid in my cellar. Fortunately, the city survived.

Today, we still hear explosions. And what can I say? Our hearts clench at the sound of every siren. We flinch at any loud sound, in fact. 

In the days and weeks that followed, people didn’t gather at Hesed Haim. Many left the city and the country. However, Hesed staff and volunteers didn’t let us out of their sight. They worked round the clock and helped us in every possible way.

Eventually, when the situation stabilized, we began to gather again. Life began to feel normal — or, as normal as it could be during a crisis like this. But still, it’s scary and very worrying; we fear for our loved ones and fellow community members.

All of us have gained a new understanding during this time — the knowledge that life happens here and now. We’ve learned to enjoy not just every day we live, but every moment. 

I think it’s this newfound appreciation for life that inspired me to volunteer. I wanted not only to receive, but to give. I needed to be useful for the community that had given me so much. Today, I help wherever I’m needed. 

That’s why I joined the Food Security project, which, since 2022, has tasked volunteers with baking challah for elderly Jews in Sumy. This project emerged at the very start of the crisis, when it was unsafe to walk around the city. Many older people were simply afraid to leave their homes. That’s when we started baking challah and bringing it to our seniors so that they wouldn’t feel cut off from Jewish community life. 

More than two years later, baking challah has become my favorite activity. 

And my Jewish life has expanded enormously — now I get to go to volunteer seminars, conferences, and Shabbat retreats. I’ve also made many new and interesting friends from other cities and communities. 

All of us have gained a new understanding during this time — the knowledge that life happens here and now.

Right now, I come to Hesed Haim almost every day. If I don’t need to bake challah, then I do needlework. If needlework isn’t needed, then I volunteer at the Hesed Day Center — a place where elderly Jews can gather and socialize. Most importantly, whatever I do, I do it alongside the community I love.

Now that it’s Shavuot, I’m thinking about the knowledge passed down to us. It was on this day that Jews received the greatest document, the greatest book — the Torah. I believe Shavuot was important not only for Jews, for all of humanity, a moment when the world received the greatest wisdom.

It’s this wisdom that has guided us Jews in the most difficult times, and we have always shown our unity and mutual assistance in the midst of crises. I believe that our core Jewish value of arevut — that all Jews are responsible for each other — can become an example for all people everywhere. 

We live this wisdom in the small, daily ways we care for each other. 

When I bake challah, I can see my Babushka Tanya doing the exact same thing. At a time when it’s easy to feel alone and scared, volunteering connects me to a world so much larger than myself — to my babushka, to my ancestors, and a Jewish future we’re building in the here and now. 

Lyudmila O., 72, is a JDC volunteer in Sumy, Ukraine.

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