I was born in Cleveland in 1984 and my family made aliyah to Ginot Shomron when I was a year old. People often comment on how dangerous it is to live in the Shomron. I am very happy living here, but the reality can be challenging.

In Israel, it is traditional for sixth-graders to organize the annual Purim festival. We had been looking forward to this festival since first grade and worked hard on it. When we got to school the day of the festival, our principal called us into the auditorium. She told us that there had been a horrible attack in Jerusalem on Ben Yehuda Street, with many killed and wounded. She explained that due to the situation, we would have to tone down our festival. As an 11-year-old, all I could think about was how unfair this was.

Kids my age innocently went out to eat and would get blown up in restaurants. Little kids in Hebron were shot at on the way to school. Every time I heard another horrible story, I’d think: Is it really worth it? Is Israel worth dying for?

I learned that answer when I realized how much Israel is worth living for. The summer of 2000 I spent at my cousins' house in New Jersey. I was envious of their lifestyle. They weren’t afraid to travel the roads or go to public places. Their brother would not have to serve in the army. I thought they were so lucky, and hoped that one day I would also be able to live freely in America.

The following September, I went with my school to Poland, to visit the tragedy that befell our nation and uncover our roots. That trip changed me. I never felt prouder as I walked with my friends along the train tracks leading to Auschwitz with an Israeli flag in my hand. The Nazis' goal was to destroy us and, where Jews were once marched to their deaths, 60 years later young Jewish girls from Israel demonstrated that we are still here.

This year we learned about the history of the Jews during the last 100 years. I learned to better appreciate Israel, which was built, to a large degree, by the bare hands of teenagers who came to Palestine from Europe, leaving their families and bringing nothing but their hopes and their dreams. They dreamed of a country where Jews would not have to hide or be ashamed. These young people were the original building blocks of our settlements, our cities and kibbutzim.

We’ve had a tough year. My neighbors have lost children and parents. Every time there is an attack, we pray and ask G-d to have compassion on His children. In school, our principal tells us it is important to be strong and to keep living our lives as usual. We try, but it is not easy to go to sleep at night wondering whether you are going to live to get married and have children. It is hard when your brother is in the army and you have no idea how he is doing or when you will see him again. It is hard when you hear about a shooting in Jerusalem and you stop breathing because you know that is where your sister lives.

After Simchat Torah I wanted to go to the second Hakafot in Jerusalem. I knew it was dangerous to travel at night, but it was very important for me to be there.

As soon as I got to Jerusalem, I knew I would not regret the trip. Thousands of Jews were dancing with Israeli flags in their hands and with joy and hope in their hearts. A stranger observing us would never guess that our country was at war.

At the end of the last Hakafa, thousands of voices joined together to sing "Ani Ma'amin ... I believe with a perfect faith." Fortunately, it is this strength that has helped us survive through the generations. And it is this same strength that keeps us going today.

Now, when people ask me if Israel is worth dying for, my answer is a definite "yes!" But I prefer to answer that "Israel is worth living for."