The months-long mission to feed thousands of Israel’s elderly is more complex than it seems

For 87-year-old Irina, memories of the Holocaust remain vivid: the screams, the stench of disease, the constant shadow of death. But living in the peaceful hills of northern Israel, surrounded by friends, she felt safe – until October 7, when war erupted at her doorstep.

War frightens everyone, but for Holocaust survivors like Irina, it shatters an already fragile sense of security. As air raid sirens wail, past and present merge into one terrifying reality. Inside Irina, there’s still a seven-year-old girl paralyzed with fear. In the north, residents have just 30 seconds to reach a shelter when sirens sound. For Irina, who uses a cane to walk, it’s barely enough time – and that’s when she’s home. Overnight, grocery shopping became a dangerous task. Where would she seek shelter if caught outside?

That’s when Colel Chabad stepped in.
Meals-on-Wheels was already providing over a million free meals a year to Israel’s most vulnerable. When war broke out, the operation became even bigger. Working alongside local municipalities and the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, Colel Chabad ensured every elderly person in the north of Israel received a call or text offering them seven reheatable meals every week, worth $41. 

Each meal contains a protein, a starch, and a vegetable. It’s an enormous operation that’s far more complex than just cooking and delivering the meals — it involves consideration of the elderly recipients’ individual needs and many, many unexpected factors.

Everything has to be perfectly considered for a project of this magnitude and reach to be successful – not only in practical matters like ensuring the meals are delivered, but with the deeper mission like ensuring everyone feels recognized, seen, and never alone.

The right volunteers.
For the elderly, war means less going out to socialize, and more time to sit alone and worry. A ring on the doorbell from a Colel Chabad volunteer doesn’t just mean a weeks’ worth of food — it means there’s someone checking up on them, asking about their grandkids or chatting about the weather.

The right languages.

But it’s not like just any volunteer will do. They also need to speak the right language. It takes a massive network and extensive organization to ensure every senior is matched with someone who speaks Russian, English, or whatever their native tongue is, so they can converse easily and comfortably.

The right temperature.
The blazing Israeli sun isn’t kind to frozen food. From the moment the meals leave the freezer until they arrive at the front door, it’s a race against the clock. Some recipients live in buildings with no elevators, or in Tzfas’s old city where apartments can only be reached via cobblestoned steps, but no matter the season, the meals always arrive in perfectly edible, fresh condition.

The right approach to independence.
Along with declining strength and mobility comes the biggest blow of all — the loss of independence. When you take that away, you always chip away at each person’s dignity. Like for 91-year-old Dafna, who always enjoyed shopping at the little grocery shop at the corner so she could bake her weekly challah and make warm soup for lunch. 

When a full meal is delivered – all ready to eat – Dafna has nothing left to do. One of her last independent tasks is gone. The tasks that seniors are capable of are their badges of honor. That’s why the elderly recipients are offered a choice: either ready-to-eat meals, grocery deliveries, or a combination of the two. In Dafna’s case, she doesn’t get a full week’s worth of meals. Instead, her volunteers bring boxes of pantry items so she can still cook the foods she loves without leaving the
house.

The right diet.
The most gourmet meals can be life-threatening if they’re not a match for a senior’s health needs. Some recipients are gluten-free, others are lactose-free, others are diabetic, and others are on a low-sodium diet.
That’s why there’s no cookie-cutter meal plan. Every recipient gets a list of available meals and can check off the ones they want – the ones that fit their diet, their medical needs, or sometimes just the ones they simply prefer.

The right menu.
For the elderly recipients, food is often steeped in memories, wrapping them in the comfort of their long-ago childhood homes. Leah prefers traditional food like chicken, potatoes, kugel, or rice — the familiar dishes she’s fed her family on for decades. David prefers the food he grew up on back in der heim — hearty, filling foods like kasha, knishes, borscht, and roasted winter vegetables. Finding out everyone’s preferences and delivering meals accordingly is a mammoth task

— but the organizers know that it can make all the difference. When food is emotionally nourishing, it gives them strength in more ways than one.

The right delivery schedule.
Boris’ schedule always ran like clockwork. He went out to shul at seven, on his daily walk at ten, and sometimes entertained visitors in the evenings. But the terrifyingly-frequent sirens don’t care about his routine, leaving Boris craving the stability he once enjoyed. Today, there’s still one thing in his life that is an anchor, taking the edge of his anxiety: his deliveries from Colel Chabad. When life gets unpredictable, he has his lifeline: predictable, nutritious meals on a schedule he can – still – trust.

Meals are important for body and spirit; a well-nourished mind is a calmer mind. Recipients can continue receiving these meals, free of charge, until the volatile situation in the north calms down — so they never have to choose between being safe and being nourished. And while it’s an incredibly complex operation, the smiles on the other side of the door make it well worth the effort.