David Sidon: "I Decided to Seek Hashem and Arrived in Bnei Brak"
Once a bustling Tel Aviv activist, he found his spiritual path, relocated to Yesod HaMa'ala, and now embraces a unique project.

David Sidon is undoubtedly a fascinating person. You might encounter him among the groves in the area of Yesod HaMa'ala in the north, appearing every bit the farmer - caring for animals, setting up farms, building cabins, and engaging significantly in carpentry. He and his wife Yael raise their five daughters there joyfully and lovingly.
It is hard to believe that the person before us, who seems every bit a kibbutznik, actually came from the heart of Tel Aviv. It's also hard to believe that the fervent faith in him and the frequent mention of "Baruch Hashem" in every other sentence are things that did not come from his home.
"I Traveled to Bnei Brak to Seek Hashem"
"I was born into a completely secular home," he shares. "My journey towards returning to faith began in a single moment. When I met my wife, who, unlike me, came from a traditional home. A short time after we met, I was invited to her parents' home for Shabbat dinner. I arrived and was taken aback. For the first time in my life, I saw a real Shabbat table - everyone sat around, blessed the wine, and ate together in such a warm and family-like atmosphere. I felt that I wanted to be part of it too."
David recounts that in the days that followed, he repeatedly asked himself: how was it possible that he had never experienced sitting around a Shabbat table? How had he missed it? "I tried to take an interest and learn about Judaism and started to understand that it's something much deeper, beyond just sitting around a table. I had many questions and couldn't find answers."
So what did you do?
"I went to Bnei Brak," he surprises, "I thought maybe I would find Hashem there. I wandered among the shops and bought books. I looked for answers in the books I purchased and got even more tangled within myself. Luckily, through divine providence, I had the privilege of meeting a dear Jew named Baruch Fabeilzon. Baruch helped me a lot in the confusion I was in, explaining various topics to me and even coming to my house for three days. I appreciate him greatly. He left his wife and children to instill holiness in my home - on Ben Yehuda Street in Tel Aviv. He brought light into my home. A significant part of my return to faith is thanks to him."
"I Didn't Dare Wear a Kippah"
At the next stage, David was already captivated by the charms of Judaism, and there was no turning back for him. "Of course, it wasn't easy," he emphasizes. "After all, we were Tel Avivians living the Tel Aviv experience, not on the fringes but at the center, with all that implies. The greatest difficulty for me was when I heard reactions from the friends around me. They ranged from 'Have you gone completely mad?' to 'What is this nonsense?' and there were even more extreme reactions. No one agreed to accept my explanations that it's good for the body, soul, and my rest. No one understood when I explained that I had felt for years that I was always searching for something and suddenly found what I had been looking for all along. There was complete misunderstanding from the environment."
"During that time," David adds, "I would wear *tzitzit* under my shirt and no kippah; I was religious mainly in secret, unable to wear a kippah and continue to be laughed at. Only after five or six years did I dare speak openly about being religious and observant."
And what gave you the strength throughout?
"Hashem. He was the one who gave me the strength. I constantly felt I had an enormous backing wind pushing me forward. It was the first time in my life I understood what spirituality was. I realized how, when you're preoccupied with the physical, you become physical and cumbersome yourself, whereas when you're spiritual, you become more refined. As someone who had been so occupied with the physical and lived within it his whole life, that was a wonderful surprise for me. I felt that indeed, there is Hashem, and he accepts me as I am. He waited for me all these years and is willing to continue waiting for me. I was so excited by this sweet feeling; it helped me overcome all obstacles."
And what about your wife?
"My wife followed me, but at first, she was still restrained. Baruch Fabeilzon, who accompanied me, explained that I couldn't rush her to progress at a pace that didn't suit her, and you can't fit her with a suit not in her size. You need to wait patiently until the suit fits her. This is what led to slowing down the pace and waiting for her so we could walk hand in hand. To this day, we walk together, with great appreciation."
Living Like in a Cabin
During this time, the small family also expanded. David shares that their eldest daughter - Shira, was born, followed shortly by their second daughter - Roni Edel. "In those days, we moved from the city center to Ramat Aviv, thinking it would be more convenient to raise children there, but we began to feel closed in by the city, and it didn't suit us. We sought a quiet place where we could gather our thoughts and raise our children peacefully. This led us to travel north to explore the possibility of living on the periphery."
Already on the first trip north, they had great divine assistance. "We arrived at a gas station," he recalls, "we stopped to refuel and then saw an avenue of trees. I asked the people, 'What is here?' and they told me, 'This is Yesod HaMa'ala.' As we descended the road, we discovered the settlement nestled in a stunning valley with endless views. We didn't hesitate at all; it was clear to us that we wanted to live there."
Initially, David mentions, they rented a house for a month, but they quickly realized they wanted to settle there permanently, buying land and building a house. "We did it immediately, as quickly as we could, and settled in the settlement. Today, we raise our five daughters here and are very happy, Baruch Hashem. Each of the children has a pair of bicycles, and they ride to kindergarten and schools within walking distance. We have a huge area, a large animal corner, lawns, a fish pond, and a swimming pool, and we're having a great time. We have everything here; it's like living in a cabin for a long weekend that never ends..."
David's wife, Yael, is an accountant by profession and works locally, while David engages in woodwork. He builds pergolas, wooden houses, cabins, and more. He also dedicates his time to something else. "I strive to prevent as many cases of animal suffering as possible," he says.
What do you mean?
"Since I returned to faith, a special compassion towards every creature has developed within me. I saw all the time how much Hashem is compassionate, and I felt that I must adopt his attributes. Hashem is merciful to every creature, and I can't ignore that. This led me to raise dogs at home that came from the street, a kitten whose mother is unknown, and also many chickens. These are older hens whose egg-laying capacity has declined. Unfortunately, I discovered that in large chicken coops throughout the country, hens are raised for only a year and a half. Then, when they see that they lay fewer eggs, they are electrocuted to death, and a special truck is ordered to throw them in the trash. They don't even bother to make food from them for animals. When I understood this was the case, it hurt me deeply and touched me personally. I felt there was unfair exploitation. So I decided to take up the cause and raise the glove to establish a kind of pension for these chickens. I plan to build a giant chicken coop for hens that have finished their role but want to age with dignity.
"I already have a four-dunam area," he adds, "I have a place with a shed, and now all that's left is to set up the coop, and for that, I've also turned to crowdfunding. These hens can live an average of seven more years; isn't it an obligation to help them?"