Features
Sandra Caplan’s Jewish Journey
Recently we received an email from Sandra Caplan from her Florida wintertime home. Sandra told us that she had given a talk to her synagogue sisterhood about her life and wondered whether we might be interested in reprinting it.
Sandra’s life followed a path that would be familiar to many Winnipeg Jews (both present and former). So we thought it would be interesting to reprint the story of Sandra’s life here:
The following document, titled My Jewish Journey, was presented to the Sisterhood of Congregation B’nai Israel on March 10th, 2024. I hosted a brunch at my condo in St. Petersburg and spoke of “My Jewish Journey,” the current Rosh Chodesh topic. I am sending a copy of this to my family so that they will have a better understanding of my life. I wrote this in two sessions without an outline. The words flowed from my heart to my brain, my fingers and then to the written page. Please don’t fact find!!
I had two photos that I always bring with me. One is of Barry and me, the other of my family on my eightieth birthday. I also had an atlas so I could show the Floridians where Winnipeg is located. Now on to my story.
The following document, titled My Jewish Journey, was presented to the Sisterhood of Congregation B’nai Israel on May 10th, 2024. I hosted a brunch at my condo in St. Petersburg and spoke of My Jewish Journey, the current Rosh Chodesh topic. I am sending a copy of this to my family so that they will have a better understanding of my life. I wrote this in two sessions without an outline. The words flowed from my heart to my brain, my fingers and then to the written page. Please don’t fact find!! I had two photos that I always bring with me. One is of Barry and me, the other of my family on my eightieth birthday. I also had an atlas so I could show the Floridians where Winnipeg is located. Now on to my story.
MY JEWISH JOURNEY
I am a Snowbird and live in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. Before I speak of My Jewish Journey, I would like to give you a few facts about Winnipeg. It is in the center of Canada and is 2200 miles northwest of St. Petersburg and 500 northwest of Minneapolis. It is a prairie province, and the terrain is flat. The winters are so cold that we often plug our cars into an electric outlet, so that the engine doesn’t freeze. A mild day in the winter would be considered 0 F and a cold day 20 degrees below that. The population in Winnipeg is approximately 750,000 people.
Winnipeg has a Jewish population of about 8,000 people. However, in the 1930’s it was about 20,000. Many young people now leave for what they consider cities with more advantages, such as Toronto, Vancouver and many US cities. Also, families are now smaller. My Mother came from a family of seven and my father from a family of five. Winnipeg has been actively involved in promoting Winnipeg to the Argentinian Jewish community and now has a large group in our community. We also have a large French Canadian, Aboriginal and Filipina presence.
Growing up I always considered that Winnipeg had two areas that the Jewish people lived in-the north end and the south end. I was born in 1939 and lived in the north end. My first recollection is living in a duplex owned by my paternal grandparents who were born in Europe. I was told that the railway line at one point in time ended in Winnipeg and that is why so many Jewish immigrants settled there. Another reason was that there was a homestead plan offered in Manitoba through which new immigrants would be given a plot of land for free if they developed the land. As it turned out the winters were harsh, and the land was inhospitable. The Jewish immigrants were not necessarily experienced in farming and once settled gave up the concept. They turned to commerce and a large percentage of Manitoba’s small towns had Jewish owned general and other stores.
My father was born in Pinsk, Poland. In Winnipeg he became a furrier after high school. My mother was born in Winnipeg and opened a dress shop, Sandra’s, after I was born.
As a young child living on Flora Ave. In the early 1940’s, every house on our street was occupied by Jewish residents. At that time there were about eleven small Orthodox synagogues in the north end. I remember sitting in the balcony at the synagogue with my mother. It was a block from our home. My mother’s parents lived about 10 minutes from our home on Selkirk Ave. My grandmother was a milliner, and her shop was at the front of her home. When my paternal grandparents passed away, the house was sold, and we moved to the south end of the city. I was 5 and after that point can recall much of my Jewish Journey.
In 1945 the south end was considered an upscale area. By this time my father had a men and ladies clothing shop in the Time Bldg. on Portage Ave. My mother still had her shop, Sandra’s. Our family grew with the addition of my brother Frederick (Fred).
Our home on Oxford Street had several Jewish families. The school that I attended for grade one had very few Jewish kids. It was at the time that my parents decided it was time for my Jewish education to begin. There was not a synagogue in the area, but there was talk of the Shaarey Zedek, which we belonged to moving to the south end. So, as I entered grade two, my Jewish education began, and I attended after school Hebrew classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. The other 2 days were for the students in grades four to six. The classes were held in the basement of a home in the area.
My recollections of those days are quite clear. The kosher butcher delivered twice a week. Since my parents both worked, we had a housekeeper who was an excellent cook. On Friday nights we often had company for dinner. I was Jewish, went to Hebrew school had a strong sense of my religion, but attended the synagogue only on the High Holidays and celebrated other important holidays such as Pesach and of course, Chanukah.
In 1949 my sister Marcia was born. In 1950 my father won the Irish Sweepstake. It was a grand sum of $39,500.00. I tried to translate it to today’s dollar. My thinking was that our home at that time cost $12,500.00. We could have bought 3 homes. That large home today of 4 bedrooms, a den and a finished basement could be worth $800,000. So, I estimate it was like winning $2, 400.000.00 today. With this fortune my father bought property on Portage Ave and built Fredric’s, a large store that sold ladies and men’s wear, sportswear, lingerie, had tuxedo rentals and had a bridal shop on the mezzanine floor.
It was about this time that the synagogue in the south end of town opened. It was a beautiful building on the river. I was able to attend Hebrew school here. It was a gathering place for Jewish children. I was a brownie and a girl scout, and both these activities were at the synagogue.
At that time the synagogue was the center of my Jewish and social life. In 1952 I had a Bat Mitzvah. This was a new ceremony at the conservative Shaarey Zedek synagogue. It was held on a Friday night. The Bat Mitzvah celebrant wore a loose, blue satin mid length long sleeved gown. It had a round collar and a white bow at the collar. I recall standing in front of the ark and reciting a prayer that started—O God and God of my Fathers. With grateful heart I stand before thee—. I also recited a haftorah which began-Vah yishlach Shlomo el Hiram laimor. Atah yadatah—. Obviously, I rehearsed this many times so that sixty-one years later I can still remember a small portion. After the service there was a reception in the social hall. We had party sandwiches, a Winnipeg specialty and favorite to this day, dainties as referred to by non Winnipeggers as squares and cookies and luscious cakes and cookies. Winnipeg Bar and Bat Mitzvah tables are well known in Canadian Jewish circles as are our baking is renowned. I can even remember several gifts that I received. A glass duck with a filling of bubble bath and a small wooden chest filled with note paper and envelopes. I still have that chest today. It was a glorious and happy celebration and did not end my Hebrew studies.
I continued going to Hebrew school until I was confirmed at the age of fifteen. For that ceremony I received a white leatherbound prayer book for the High Holidays which I still have today. When I was a teenager, I sang in the synagogue choir on Shabbat and the High Holidays. Our synagogue had a choir loft which was curtained and on the second floor behind the ark. We had about 20 members led by a choir master.
In Winnipeg in 1956 you could enter University after grade eleven, which I chose to do. So, I was sixteen when I enrolled at the University of Manitoba. Everyone with a few exceptions stayed at home to go to university. In those days we had one Jewish sorority, Iota Alpha Pi which I joined and became the president of in my second year of university. We also had 3 Jewish fraternities known as the Sammies, Zebes and Apes. I took Commerce but did not get my BCom because at the end of my third year I got my MRS.
So, this takes me to dating years in Winnipeg. My friends and I would never think of going out with anyone but a Jewish boy. We all married Jewish boys and married very young. I was nineteen when I married Barry who was a doctor and twenty-six years old. We had a large wedding at the Shaarey Zedek the synagogue that my family attended. Looking back, I feel that I was very young, unworldly leaving my parents to go to Los Angels where Barry would be a resident. I was a young girl in a new and different world! It was a challenge. Our Jewish life as we knew it was at a standstill. I had one Aunt and a few cousins that we could visit and we knew one couple from Winnipeg. There was no time to celebrate holidays and no one to really celebrate with.
California, however, was a nice place to live. We had no Winnipeg winters to deal with but also had no family to be with. Four years passed quickly, especially since we had two children. A daughter Susan who was born in 1962 and a son Bruce born in 1963. I also was fortunate to work at AT&T for 3 years.
Although as I previously said we felt like we had lost some of our Jewishness, a Bris was a ceremony that was very important to us. It was up to Barry to make the arrangements. He spoke to some of the Jewish attending doctors at the hospital. He got the name of a mohel and told my mother, who had come to help me, that the mohel had a request. The baby was to wear a cap and gown. I had no knowledge of Brises and my mother thought this was a little odd. However, we were in the United States. Traditions could be different. When Bruce was 4 days old a cousin came to babysit while my mother and I went shopping for a cap and gown. We found Christening gowns and other outfits for babies. Nothing was suitable for a Bris. I heard of a store in Long Beach that perhaps could help us in our search. I had never been to Long Beach but with directions managed to find the store. We found what we thought was a perfect outfit. It was a white cotton Carters gown that was tied at the bottom with a matching bonnet that was tied under the baby’s neck. The day of the Bris arrived and we met the Mohel. His first question to Barry was “did you bring my cap and gown from the hospital”. As an excited father Barry was so happy to find a Mohel he heard only the cap and gown and assumed it was for the baby. Fortunately, we lived a few minutes from the hospital and Barry was able to ge the cap and gown for the Mohel. Later the Mohel remarked that he thought the baby’s outfit was a little strange. Our first, but certainly not our last adventure with our son.
In 1963 we returned to Winipeg and a whole new Jewish Journey for me was established. Barry had a very large, observant family on his maternal and paternal side. So, I became immersed in all the Jewish culture of his family. My side of the family was small, and we were not as close as the Caplan/Stall family. I was twenty-three. A mother of two, naive, inexperienced and the product of a sheltered life. How did I survive? I guess that necessity was a factor. We adapted to life in the city, made friends, and carried on. The Caplan family belonged to the synagogue in the north end of town. My family belonged to the synagogue in the south end. Until our daughter Susan was twelve, we went to Rosh Pina with the Caplans. One incident that I clearly remember took place on the High Holidays in about 1969. We never joined the synagogue as Barry’s parents looked after our High Holiday tickets and with Barry’s work schedule as a Urologist who was on call every third weekend and every third of fourth night, he was not able to commit to going to shule. To get back to the holiday service the Rabbi spoke about membership in the synagogue and its importance in Jewish life. I felt he was looking directly at me as he made this appeal. On the way home I said to Barry that we must join the synagogue. It is a priority in our lives. As Susan’s Bat Mitzvah approached, I had a problem. Our children attended Ramah day school but lessons for your Bar /Bat Mitzvah and the ceremony, took place at the synagogue that you belonged to. In my mind I had no choice. To drive twice a week to the north end when it could be very cold, icy streets and a huge distance of a half hour was beyond my scope of reality. So, we joined the south end Shaarey Zedek Synagogue. Our son Bruce had his Bar Mitzvah in 1976 at the Shaarey Zedek and our son David who was born in 1971 completed this cycle.
While raising my family I was involved in Hadassah and National Council of Jewish Women. I became president of the chapters that I belonged to and was actively involved in both. I also volunteered at the Shaarey Zedek in a lunch program for seniors. Being in shule, whether as a volunteer or at a service or program was always an important part of my life. When my husband Barry retired in December 1999 we started coming to St. Petersburg for the winter. One of our first projects was to find a conservative synagogue. How fortunate we were to discover CBI.When we got home that spring, we started going to service every Saturday and this continued until Barry’s passing. I continued to attend until Covid and the two-year remodeling of our synagogue began. Our renovations are almost complete, and my family and I will be able to return to our beloved Shaarey Zedek for the holidays this year and I will return to my weekly Saturdays at shule.
Jewish holidays are a special time in our family. Last Rosh Hashanah my daughter Susan and I continued the family tradition of a luncheon on the first day of the holiday. This was held at her home. How wonderful that first to fourth cousins, machatunim and those close to the family gather to enjoy this holiday. I have been in touch with a cousin in Winnipeg to check on the first Seder for this year. My children are coming to Winnipeg from Vancouver, and we look forward to enjoying the Seder with the extended family again. This year we will probably have thirty attending but often there are many more.
When I speak of the synagogue and the importance of it in our family life, I cannot help but think of the day of Barry’s passing. I came into his hospital room and his first word was shule. I immediately called the synagogue, spoke to Rabbi Green and within a half hour he was at Barry’s bedside, singing and reciting prayers. How fortunate we are to have a religion and a life that makes us feel involved, loved and able to pass away in what we would consider a dignified and peaceful manner. As I write these words tears stream down my face and I realize how fortunate I am to have been born Jewish.
I truly feel that I could end my Jewish Journey here, but life goes on after the loss of loved ones. For six and a half years I have been a widow. My friends hate that word, but I can’t say that I am alone. That is not true. I have a wonderful family, friends and a full life. I come to Florida for the winter, I can travel with my daughter, I visit my children and grandchildren in Vancouver, I enjoy the cultural life in my two favorite cities and much more.
I feel that life has been good to me. I have three children, six grandchildren, many friends, good health and the ability to enjoy life. I have truly been blessed.
BACK ROW L – R: Sheri Winters, Bruce Caplan, Sandra Caplan, Susan Billinkoff, David Caplan, Cindy Switzer
Front Row L – R: Asher Billinkoff, Maia Caplan, Annie Caplan, Layla Switzer-Caplan, Max Switzer Caplan, Jordan Billinkoff
Features
The Torah on a Lost Dog: Hashavat Aveidah in a Modern Canadian City
A neighbour’s dog wanders into your yard on a Wednesday morning in May, dragging a leash and looking confused. You have a choice. You can close the door and assume someone else will deal with it, call the city, or take a photo, knock on a few doors, and try to find out where he belongs.
For most people in Winnipeg and elsewhere in Canada, that choice plays out in a flash of moral instinct rather than reflection. The hand reaches for the phone and the walk around the block begins. The neighbour, if it goes well, is at the door before lunch. The decision feels minor, but it matters more than it looks.
In Jewish tradition, the act of returning a lost animal sits at the centre of one of the oldest practical commandments in the Torah. Deuteronomy 22, near the end of Parashat Ki Teitzei, contains a passage that has become the foundation for an entire body of Jewish ethical law: “If you see your fellow’s ox or sheep going astray, you shall not hide yourself from them; you shall surely bring them back.” The verse goes on to extend this duty beyond animals to any lost property. “So shall you do with every lost thing of your brother’s which he has lost and you have found.” Then comes the line that has occupied rabbis for two thousand years: “You may not hide yourself.”
The Hebrew name for this mitzvah is hashavat aveidah, the returning of a lost thing. It is one of the more practical commandments in a tradition full of practical commandments, and the rabbinic literature surrounding it is unusually thick.
A small commandment with big implications
The reason hashavat aveidah occupies so much rabbinic attention is that, on closer reading, it sets a high ethical bar. The Talmud, particularly the second chapter of tractate Bava Metzia known as Eilu Metziot, devotes pages to questions a modern reader would immediately recognize. How long must you wait for the owner to claim the item? How hard do you have to look for them? What if the animal needs feeding while you search? What expenses can you recover, and what counts as fair? What if the item is too inconvenient to safely return?
The rabbis answer all of these. The answers are not always intuitive. The finder is obligated to feed and shelter the animal while looking for the owner. The animal must not be put to work for the finder’s profit. The owner, when found, repays reasonable costs but is not on the hook for unreasonable ones. If the search takes too long, there are procedures for what to do next, none of which involve quietly keeping what is not yours.
Underneath the legal detail is a moral assumption that is easy to miss in a hurried reading. The Torah does not say to return the animal if it is convenient. It explicitly forbids the act of hiding yourself, of pretending you did not see, of crossing to the other side of the street. The commandment is as much about the person who finds as it is about the animal that is lost.
What this looks like in 2026
Most people who encounter a stray dog in a Winnipeg neighbourhood today are not thinking about Bava Metzia. They are thinking about whether the dog is friendly, whether they should call the City, whether they have time. The instinct to help is usually present. The question is what to do with it.
The practical infrastructure for hashavat aveidah in this country has changed considerably in the last decade. A finder in Winnipeg in 2026 has access to a regional humane society, a network of local Facebook groups, neighbourhood newsletters, and a handful of national platforms that gather sightings and missing-pet alerts across more than 180 Canadian cities. The mechanism is straightforward. A clear photo and a location pin can reach the right owner within hours when the system works, which it usually does.
The most underused of these resources, in any community, is the simple act of posting a sighting. Many people who find a stray feel they need to first catch the animal, find it food, take it home, or in some way solve the problem in full. The rabbis would actually disagree with that framing, and so does modern pet-recovery practice. The first responsibility is to make the sighting visible. The owner is almost certainly already looking. The finder’s main job is to surface what they have seen.
For people in Winnipeg looking for a place to start, a practical guide for what to do when you find a stray walks through the basic steps. Take a clear photo, note the cross-streets and time, check for a tag, and post the sighting where local owners will see it. The work is small. The effect, on the owner who has been awake for two nights and then sees a photo of their dog with a phone number underneath, is much larger than the work itself.
The ethical centre of the commandment
There is a strain of Jewish thought that reads hashavat aveidah as a kind of training in noticing. The deeper commandment goes beyond returning what is lost. It asks the finder to be the kind of person who sees what is lost in the first place, who does not cross to the other side of the street, who does not pretend not to have noticed.
That reading lines up with another Jewish ethical concept that often gets paired with this one: tza’ar ba’alei chayim, the obligation to prevent unnecessary suffering to animals. The Talmud derives this principle from several places in the Torah, including the rest commanded for animals on Shabbat. The two principles overlap in the case of a lost pet. The animal is suffering. The owner is suffering. The finder is, briefly, the only person in the position to do anything about it.
In a small way, the entire Canadian volunteer ecosystem around lost pets, from neighbourhood Facebook groups to national platforms to the dog walker who recognizes a posted photo, is an example of this ethical structure in action. People do not necessarily think of it in those terms. The framework is there anyway, doing its quiet work.
A community-scale point
Winnipeg’s Jewish community has always understood itself as a network of responsibilities to others, the kind that get described as chesed when they are visible and assumed when they are not. The work of returning a lost animal sits comfortably in that frame. It is not heroic, does not make the bulletin, and is exactly the kind of small obligation that knits a community together when nobody is paying attention.
The dog in the yard on a Wednesday morning in May, leash trailing, is one version of the question Deuteronomy asks. The answer, then and now, is the same. Do not hide yourself.
Features
Basketball: How has Israel become one of the best basketball countries in Europe in the last few years?
When Israeli Deni Avdija became the first Israeli to be drafted as the highest Israeli draftee in NBA history in 2020 – then emerged as a key NBA wing in Portland, it was not so much the breakthrough it appeared to be, but a portent of things to come. Israeli basketball development has been decades in the making, and in recent years its clubs have made Europe take notice.
This is why Maccabi Tel Aviv, Hapoel Tel Aviv, and the national basketball team of Israel are now the subjects of serious discussion in European basketball. It is only natural that fans and bettors reading form, depth of the roster, and momentum would look at our Euroleague predictions and then evaluate how Israeli teams would fit into the continental picture.
A rich history: The Maccabi Tel Aviv mythos
The contemporary narrative dates back to before Avdija. Maccabi Tel Aviv won its maiden European Cup in 1977, beating Mobilgirgi Varese and providing a nation under pressure with a sporting icon. Tal Brody’s declaration: “We are on the map” became not just a quote, it became a declaration of Jewish confidence, Israeli strength and a basketball dream.
Maccabi turned out to be the team of the nation since it bore Israeli identity past the borders. Maccabi has been a cultural ambassador before globalization transformed elite lists into multinational conundrums. Its yellow jerseys were the symbol of excellence, rebellion, and identification for the Israeli people at home and Jewish communities abroad.
The six European championships for the club provided a benchmark that has influenced the Winner League and Israeli basketball. Children were not just spectators of Maccabi, they dreamed of Europe as something accessible. Coaches studied in the continental competition. Sponsors and broadcasters realized that basketball had the potential to be the most exportable Israel team sport.
The modern pillars of Israeli basketball’s success
The recent ascendancy of Israel is no magic. It is the result of history, astute recruiting, youth-building and pressure-tested league culture. The nation has made its size its strength: clubs find talent at a young age and enhance the potential with foreign professionals.
Nurturing homegrown talent: The Deni Avdija effect
The most obvious example is that of Avdija. He was a high-ranking contributor in the system of Maccabi Tel Aviv, was chosen as a teenager, and was picked number 9 by Washington in the 2020 NBA Draft. His career was a reminder that an Israeli prospect could be more than a local star; he could be a lottery pick with two-way NBA potential.
Israeli NBA player Omri Casspi had already opened that door, and Avdija opened it even further for the next generation. Their achievements captivated the expectations of youthful players in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Holon, Herzliya, etc. An Israeli teenager is now able to envision a path from youth leagues to the Winner League, the EuroLeague, and ultimately – NBA minutes.
It is that dream that has been followed by investment. Israeli clubs put more emphasis on skills training, strength training, and analytics, as well as international youth tournaments. The success of the national program in the face of the best of Europe has also helped.
A global approach: The role of international and naturalized stars
The other pillar of the Israeli basketball program is the openness of Israel to global talent. The Winner League has been an important destination, not a stopover, for American guards and forwards. Most come in with NCAA or G league experience and become leaders due to the fact that the league requires scoring, speed and tactical flexibility.
It is enriched with naturalized players and Jewish players, who are able to use the Law of Return to come to Israel to play. Inspired by legendary players like Tal Brody, current imports who can bond both professionally and personally with Israelis have provided teams with uncharacteristic diversity in their rosters. The outcome has been a mixture of Israeli competitiveness, American shot making, Balkan toughness, and European spacing.
Making waves in Europe: Israel’s modern Euroleague footprint
Even in challenging seasons, Maccabi Tel Aviv has remained the flagship team. Currently, Maccabi is out of a playoff spot in the EuroLeague, but Hapoel Tel Aviv has shot up in playoff discussion. That juxtaposition speaks volumes: Israel is no longer represented by one lone, iconic club. Its profile has expanded.
Nevertheless, it is true that the reputation of Maccabi in the EuroLeague does count. Menora Mivtachim Arena in Tel Aviv is one of the most intimidating arenas for EuroLeague teams to play in: loud and emotional. Recent security and travel realities have affected the usual home-court advantage but the name of the club is still a potent brand.
It is the reason why there is an interesting betting discussion within Israeli teams. The name Maccabi still retains a historical impact, but analysts also need to quantify the present defensive performance, injuries, substitution of venues and guards, and fatigue in the schedule. The emergence of Hapoel has provided another Israeli point of reference and markets have to regard the nation as a multi-club force.
What’s next? The future of Israeli basketball on the world stage
Sustainability is the second test. The Israeli national basketball team desires more serious EuroBasket performances and a future world cup. It requires Avdija types – fit and powerful, more domestic big men, and guards capable of playing elite defense to get there.
The pipeline is an optimistic one. Israeli schools are more professional, teams are bolder with young talents, and the Winner League is a test ground where potential talents have to contend with older, tougher imports each week. Not all players will turn into an Avdija, yet additional players ought to be prepared to participate in EuroCup, EuroLeague, and even NBA games.
To the Jews in the Canadian diaspora, the impact is not only sporting, it is also emotional. Israeli basketball brings pride, drama and a common language to the continents. To the European fan, it provides tempo, creativity and unpredictability. To analysts, it provides a sign that a small nation, with memory, ambition and adaptation, can rise to become a true basketball power. Israel has ceased to be the unexpected guest on the table of Europe. It is a part of it, season after season.
Features
In recent years, we have been looking for something more than a house in Israel – we have been looking for a home
For many Jewish families in the diaspora, Israel has always been more than a destination. It is the land of tefillah, memory, family history and belonging. But in recent years, many families have begun asking a practical question too: should Israel also become a place where we have a home?
Not necessarily immediate aliyah. Sometimes it begins with a future option, something good to have just in case, or simply roots with a stronger connection to Eretz Yisroel.
But what does it mean?
A Jewish home is shaped not only by what is inside the front door, but by what surrounds it: neighbours, synagogues, schools, parks, local services, safe streets and the rhythm of Jewish life. For observant families, these are not small details. They are the things that turn a house into a place of belonging.
This is not a new idea. It is a need that has helped shape Jewish communities in Israel before. The Savyonim idea is rooted in the story of Savyon, the Israeli community established in the 1950s by South African Jews who wanted to create a green, safe and community-minded environment in Israel. It was a diaspora dream translated into life in the Jewish homeland.
That idea feels relevant again today. Many Jewish families abroad are now making plans around where they can feel connected in the years ahead.
Recent figures point in the same direction. Reports based on Israel’s Ministry of Finance data showed that foreign residents bought around 1,900 homes in Israel in 2024, about 50% more than the previous year, with Jerusalem emerging as the most popular place to buy. In January 2026, foreign residents still purchased 146 homes, broadly similar to January 2025, even as the wider housing market remained cautious.
For Lior David, International Sales & Marketing Manager at Africa Israel Residences, part of the continued interest may lie in the fact that today’s residential projects are increasingly built around the wider needs of Jewish families abroad: not only buying a property in Israel, but finding a setting that can support community, continuity and everyday Jewish life. That idea is reflected in Savyonim, the company’s residential concept, which places the surrounding environment at the heart of choosing a home.
This can be seen in Savyoney Givat Shmuel, where the surrounding environment includes synagogues, parks, educational institutions, local commerce, playgrounds and transport links, and in Savyoney Ramat Sharet in Jerusalem, located in one of the city’s established green neighbourhoods.
For families abroad, these things matter. Jerusalem and Givat Shmuel are never just another location. They are home to strong Jewish communities, established religious life and surroundings that allow a family to imagine not only buying property, but building a Jewish home in Israel.
Together, these projects reflect a broader understanding: that for many Jews in the diaspora, the decision to create a home in Israel is not only practical, but rooted in identity, continuity and community. The Savyonim story began with a Zionist community from abroad that succeeded in building a real home in Israel; today, that same vision continues in a contemporary form.