“Are You Sure You Don’t Want Them for a Month?”

When our camp secretary called the administration of a small village school in western Ukraine to request permission for two boys, Artom and Sergei, to attend our Pesach camp, the response was immediate and striking: “Are you sure you don’t want them for a month?” It wasn’t a joke. These brothers were considered difficult, disruptive in class, and hard to manage. But at Camp Yeka, they were seen beyond the labels.

This wasn’t their first time at Yeka. At our previous winter camp, Sergei had a moment that said everything about how far these boys had already come. On a group outing, surrounded by non-Jewish teens, Sergei initially kept to the side, embarrassed to be seen with a visibly Jewish group. But when one of the local teens made a derogatory remark, Sergei responded not with shame but with pride. He lifted his cap, revealing his yarmulke, and stood tall. It was a quiet but powerful act of Jewish courage.

By the time Pesach arrived, something deeper began to stir in both boys. One evening, Artom sat with a counselor and softly began to sing one of the camp’s signature songs about longing for connection to Hashem. What began as a moment turned into something much more. He continued singing for over an hour, his voice full of yearning and sincerity. It wasn’t just a melody anymore; it was a soul returning to its roots.

As the final days of Pesach approached and the Yizkor prayer drew near, their counselors quietly wondered how it would affect these boys. Having lost their Jewish mother years ago, would they relate to the moment? Would they even participate? They did, and not just outwardly. Artom and Sergei stood alongside their counselors, fully engaged, davening with focus and quiet emotion for their mother’s neshamah. It was one of those moments that speaks louder than any speech, where you realize just how much impact one and a half weeks can make.

This summer, Artom and Sergei will return once again to Camp Yeka, alongside over a hundred other Jewish boys from across Ukraine, each carrying their own story of struggle and hope. For many of these children, Yeka is not just a camp. It’s the place where Jewish boys get Brissim, celebrate their first Bar Mitzvahs, decide to transfer to Jewish schools, and even go on to yeshiva. It’s the place where they discover what it means to belong to something greater than themselves.

You can help make that happen. Donate now at Charidy.com/Yeka and be part of changing a Jewish child’s life forever.