From Paratrooper to Spiritual Seeker

I was born a religious Jew; I just didn’t know it until I was 28. Judith Fresnd, now 73, chuckles. Growing up in a large German house in Beit Lechem Hagalilit, she never imagined where life would lead her. Even as she joined the army paratroopers, she couldn't predict that she would end up in one of Jerusalem's oldest neighborhoods, married to a Yiddish-speaking man, living in the historic Bankenstein Houses.

"I know my story sounds unconventional," she notes, "but for those on a faith journey, it's quite familiar. I share it to illustrate that when we believe in ourselves, the possibilities are endless."

Searching for Meaning

I had many dreams growing up, Judith recalls, who was then called Ophira. One was to be a paratrooper, and I fulfilled it by joining the army. But after achieving what I thought I wanted, I realized it wasn’t truly fulfilling. I grew up in a completely secular household, unaware of my soul's yearning for Judaism.

After the army, I decided to travel abroad. Back then, trips to the Far East weren't common, so young ex-soldiers journeyed elsewhere for a year. I planned a two-month trip, but didn't last, returning home earlier than planned. Even then I didn’t realize I was yearning for spirituality. The world I knew didn’t suit me.

I came back and, like many friends, went on Sinai Peninsula night dives, hoping to find life’s fulfillment. Naturally, I didn’t find what I was seeking there either.

In those days, Judith began turning her jewelry-making hobby into a profession. I studied to be a goldsmith and entered the professional world, selling my creations in galleries on Dizengoff and Jaffa. Then something unexpected happened—a religious Jew from Bnei Brak saw my unique collection. Curious about the designer, he asked the salesperson, who told him about me. That’s how we connected.

Judith mentions that her story took place over fifty years ago, when mobile phones didn’t exist and home phones were rare. I remember asking the saleswoman if 'Joseph from Bnei Brak' had visited again, piqued only as a client. Her response was, 'Don’t tell me you want to become religious,' to which I spontaneously replied, 'Actually, that’s a great idea,' truly meaning it.

Were you really planning to become religious?

"Yes. It might sound surprising, but long before, different events sparked my interest in Judaism. I had a good friend, the cousin of the late Rabbi Uri Zohar z''l, whom I often met at Tel Aviv’s beach. When she stopped coming, I contacted her and she said, 'I’m in Neve Jerusalem, following Uri’s path.' I felt immediately drawn, awakening something deep inside.

The decisive moment was when the salesperson mentioned my turning religious. That made me realize it was exactly what I wanted. That night, past midnight, I called directory assistance to find Rabbi Yisrael Ariel’s number—the military rabbi I knew. By chance, he got the phone line that day. If it had been a day earlier, I wouldn’t have reached him. 

The Rebbetzin answered, saying the rabbi would return in an hour. I confidently called at one in the morning, introducing myself as a registration officer from his old military unit, asking, ‘Is Ophira from Beit Lechem Hagalilit great, or is Israel small for her?’ The rabbi didn’t laugh, instead inviting me to meet him for answers.

We arranged a meeting that week. I arrived at their house in Yamit, smoking cigarette after cigarette, tearfully expressing, 'You have a real light here, not the fluorescent kind!' The rabbi listened and invited me to spend the upcoming Shabbat with them.

I hitchhiked home, through Gaza—a wild idea today—and arrived emotionally exhausted, collapsing into bed. Suddenly, the phone rang. My father answered—Rabbi Ariel called to confirm my Shabbat visit and the bus time. My father, bewildered, asked, ‘Ophira, what does Rabbi Ariel want with you?’ Hesitantly, I said, ‘Dad, I’ve decided to become religious.’ It felt like dropping a bomb, but there was no time to discuss—I had a bus to catch and a suitcase to pack for Rabbi Ariel. It was my first step to becoming religious.

A Life Transformed

For a long time, Judith was immersed in learning at the Ora Institute in Jerusalem, affiliated with the Meir Institute, soaking up Torah lessons and embracing her Jewish roots. I felt like a sponge, absorbing it all, she reminisces. One day, a friend introduced me to Rabbi Porush’s Chassidut classes. Though different from what I knew, I found it captivating. In one class, I raised a nagging question, and afterwards, Rabbi Porush stopped me to chat.

After thoroughly answering my question, he surprisingly mentioned having a match for me. At 28, I instantly asked, ‘Is this someone you’d want for your daughter?’ He affirmed, so I immediately agreed. That’s how I met my husband—a born religious Jew, thinking in Yiddish, and making calculations in Yiddish—a Jerusalem native marrying a returnee from Beit Lechem’s vineyards.

Incidentally, Judith shares a tale preceding the match: Before Rosh Chodesh Av, I went with a friend to Jonathan ben Uziel’s tomb. While my friend urged us toward the Sea of Galilee, someone there suggested I promise to light a candle on Shabbat for Jonathan ben Uziel’s soul—a segula to marry within a year. Inspired by faith, I asked for his address to send a wedding invitation.

I prayed earnestly to Hashem: 'Even if not marriage, please let me meet my future husband this year.' Two weeks later, I received a marriage proposal, and soon we married and moved to a place I never imagined—the Bankenstein Houses in Jerusalem.

Can you tell us about this neighborhood?

Banksnstein Houses is a small courtyard neighborhood between Achva and Zichron Moshe neighborhoods, near Kikar Shabbat. Established in 1908, it comprises two large courtyards with a conservative, tight-knit character, as many residents are descendants of the old Yishuv.

Was adapting to your new life challenging as a returnee?

Adjusting wasn’t easy, so one of my first acts was creating a beautiful garden in the large, barren courtyard among our ancient homes. As an artist at heart, I couldn't bear its emptiness, so I crafted a garden that remains today. Inside our very old home, I adorned the walls with stunning pieces and diverse art styles I learned over the years. I connected deeply to the area and made our private house warm and stylish. To this day, I continue creating fabric and oil paintings, selling them to visitors.

Through the years, Hashem blessed me with four wonderful daughters, and our life was joyful. Yet, something in my heart felt incomplete. I couldn’t understand why the excitement for Purim and Pesach wasn’t there. Then I discovered Breslov Chassidus, akin to the tale of the Lost Princess. After meeting Rabbi Nachman, my soul-search ended, filling my life with light and purpose.

Thank Hashem, I now host many visitors through Jerusalem’s hospitality program. People pass through, visit, and I share my story to inspire and empower. Looking back, I see that Hashem guided my journey. I was just a chess piece, solely through the grace of Hashem.

All rights to the paintings featured in the article belong to Judith Fresnd.