In a matter of seconds, homes turned to rubble. Families were left with nothing — just days before Pesach.
Standing amid scenes of mass devastation, Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu described the aftermath of the Iranian missile strike in Arad in stark terms: “It was a very difficult night for the State of Israel.”
His remarks came on Sunday afternoon, March 22, just hours after the Motzei Shabbos attack, in what officials described as one of the largest and most destructive missile barrages since the outbreak of the Iran war. The strikes hit residential areas with terrifying force, leaving widespread destruction and hundreds of casualties.
Rescue teams worked through the night — pulling victims from the rubble, treating the injured, and searching desperately for anyone still trapped beneath collapsed structures. Entire buildings were reduced to ruins. Families fled in panic, many escaping with nothing but the clothes they were wearing. Streets that had been alive only hours earlier were transformed into scenes of chaos and heartbreak.
In Arad, dozens of apartments were torn open. Possessions were buried beneath debris. Lives were irrevocably altered in a single moment.
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PM Netanyahu at the site of the missile strike in Arad. GPO/Avi Ohayon
But beyond the headlines and casualty figures lies a deeper, more painful reality.
170 families are now homeless.
Families who lost everything in an instant — no homes, no belongings, no sense of normalcy.
And Pesach is almost upon us.
Pesach. The Yom Tov of dignity. The Yom Tov of family. The night when every Yid is meant to sit like a king.
But for these families, there is no table. No kitchen. No clothing prepared. No sense of what tomorrow will even look like.
Children who should be asking the Mah Nishtanah at the Seder are instead asking where they will sleep. Fathers who should be preparing the Seder are trying to hold their families together.
And yet — Klal Yisroel did not remain silent.
With open hearts and extraordinary generosity, Yidden across the world stepped forward. With urgency and with heart, they gave. They cared. They refused to let their brothers and sisters stand alone.
Because of that, most of the families have already been helped. They have a place. They have what they need to enter Yom Tov with at least a measure of dignity.
But not all.
Forty-eight families are still waiting.
Forty-eight families with nowhere to go.
Forty-eight families watching the hours slip away.
Two days to Pesach.
Two days until the night when Klal Yisroel sits together and declares, “Now we are free.”
This is the final moment. The last chance.
In two days, it will be too late.
Help the remaining 48 families bring in Pesach, like true Bnei Chorin.