From a letter by Eugene, Anzhelika & Family
Camp Yonnie brought the joy of Shabbat back into our home. Since moving to the United States more than half a year ago, one of the things I have missed most has been celebrating Shabbat as part of a Jewish community. We never stopped observing Shabbat. Every Friday evening, we lit the candles, said the blessings, and gathered around our family table, but naturally, something changed. What had once been a joyful communal celebration gradually became a quiet family evening. It was still meaningful. It was still warm. But for a child, celebrating with two parents is very different from celebrating alongside dozens of families, hearing children sing together, watching friends welcome Shabbat, and feeling that special excitement shared by an entire community.
Then Benjamin came home after his very first day at Camp Yonnie; he sat down with his LEGOs and quietly began singing, almost without realizing it himself: “Baruch Atah Adonai…” I simply stopped and listened.
A few days later, during Shabbat, something happened that I will probably remember for the rest of my life. Benjamin asked if he could make the “bracha,” blessing, over the challah himself. He stood at the head of our family table, recited the blessing, cut the challah, dipped it in salt, and served every member of our family. No one asked him. No one reminded him. No one encouraged him. It came entirely from his own heart.
At that moment I looked at my husband, and without saying a word we both understood the same thing. As parents, we can preserve traditions. We can explain them. We can remind our children. But we cannot make a child love them.
Somehow, Camp Yonnie had accomplished something we ourselves could never have achieved. The bracha had stopped being something Benjamin repeated because adults expected it. It had become his own inner need. And Shabbat itself changed.
Shabbat was no longer simply the peaceful end of another week. It became a true celebration again. Not because we insisted. Not because we persuaded him. But because our son himself brought its joy back into our home.
I don’t remember the last time Shabbat brought tears to my eyes, not tears of sadness, tears of gratitude. Because every Jewish parent hopes that one day traditions will be embraced by their children, not because they have to, but because they genuinely want to. For our family, Camp Yonnie gave us that gift.
I believe Camp Yonnie is valuable not only for Jewish families, but for every family raising children in America. One of the things I admire most about the camp is that nothing feels forced. Jewish traditions are not presented as something children must accept; they are simply lived: through friendship, music, cooking, celebration, kindness, and everyday experiences. For Jewish children, this strengthens a connection to their own heritage. For children from mixed families, it may help them discover another part of their own story. And for children from completely different backgrounds, it offers something equally valuable: not religion, but understanding.
Children learn that another culture and faith are not something distant or mysterious. They belong to real people: their friends, counselors, and neighbors. To me, this is one of the greatest forms of education. America is home to people of different nationalities, religions, cultures, languages, and histories. Children do not become stronger by knowing less about one another. They become stronger by understanding one another better. When a child has celebrated a Shabbat dinner with friends, baked challah, learned a Hebrew song, or simply asked questions without fear or embarrassment, that experience stays with them.
Years later, they are much less likely to judge an entire people based on stereotypes or someone else’s opinion. Real experience is stronger than prejudice. Knowledge is stronger than assumptions.
Children who are encouraged to ask questions, to experience different traditions, and to understand the people around them grow into adults who think independently instead of accepting ready-made narratives. That is one of the greatest contributions any educational program can make. Camp Yonnie does not ask children to become the same.
It teaches them that people can remain true to their own identity while genuinely respecting the identity of others. That is an incredibly important lesson for the next generation.
Even without its Jewish mission, Camp Yonnie is simply an exceptional summer camp. Many camps are known for exciting field trips, others are known for sports, and others focus on arts and crafts. What impressed me about Camp Yonnie is the remarkable variety of experiences children receive within a single summer. Even on days without excursions, children are constantly engaged in meaningful activities including: cooking, creative arts, painting clothing, working with clay, sports, swimming, team games, building, creating, and exploring. They are not simply entertained. They are constantly discovering something new about themselves.
During one summer a child has the opportunity to try activities they may never otherwise encounter. Perhaps they discover they love tennis, hockey, horseback riding, art, cooking, or perhaps something they had never even imagined trying before. That is incredibly valuable.
By the end of the summer, parents are no longer guessing what might interest their child during the school year. They have already seen genuine enthusiasm appear naturally.
The camp becomes a place where children safely explore their own interests before families invest time, energy, and resources into year-round activities.
As a parent, I also deeply appreciated something that is impossible to measure in schedules or brochures: safety. Not only physical safety, emotional safety.
The feeling that every child is noticed, encouraged, included, and respected.
Benjamin never came home simply telling us where he had been. He talked about his friends, counselors, who helped him, whom he helped, what surprised him, and what he wanted to do again tomorrow. To me, those conversations say more than any advertising ever could.
For our family, Camp Yonnie has been far more than a summer camp. It has become a place that brought joy back into our home, strengthened our son’s connection with his heritage, expanded his world, and reminded us that preserving one’s own identity and becoming part of a diverse American society are not competing ideas; they strengthen one another.
Thank you for everything you have done for our children and for our family. We will always be grateful.