[COMMUNICATED] “Mom… I Can Breathe Here”

These days, at the Dead Sea, a place is being built, not only from concrete and steel,

but from hope, prayers, and something most of us rarely stop to think about: the simple ability to breathe.

Sometimes It Begins with a Small Cough in the Middle of the Night

Then comes another inhalation treatment.

And another.

Another sleepless night.

Another morning when a mother quietly checks whether her child managed to breathe a little easier than the night before.

There are mothers who no longer remember what it sounds like when a child sleeps peacefully through the night.

And then they arrive at the Dead Sea.

“Mom… I Can Breathe Here”

Avi (name changed), an eight year old boy from Jerusalem, sat facing the calm waters of the Dead Sea with an inhaler in his hand.

A soft breeze moved gently across the shore.

The harsh coughing fits that had accompanied him for months seemed to quiet down, if only a little, in the stillness of the desert air.

His mother stood beside him.

Silent.

She could no longer remember the last time he had slept through an entire night without waking up coughing.

He took a deep breath.

Then another.

As if his body was carefully testing whether it was finally allowed to relax.

One more breath.

And another.

Then, for the first time in a very long time, he turned to her and whispered:

“Mom… I can breathe here.”

She turned away for a moment,
so he would not see the tears in her eyes.

Some Children Don’t Wait for Summer Vacation.

They Wait to Breathe.

Some children run freely across playgrounds.

Others stop halfway up a staircase just to catch their breath.

Some complain about homework.

Others begin inhalation treatments before sunrise.

Not every child is born with the privilege of breathing easily.

Thirty Years of Mission and Compassion

For nearly three decades, the Chaim Layeled organization has stood beside critically ill children and their families with extraordinary devotion.

Nearly twenty years ago, the organization established its first healing retreat at the Dead Sea.

Since then, thousands of families from Israel and around the world have arrived there hoping for one simple thing:

To breathe a little easier.

Over the years, the center became a lifeline for children suffering from severe respiratory illnesses, Cystic Fibrosis (CF), and debilitating skin diseases.

But in recent years, the reality has grown more difficult.

Demand has increased dramatically.

Waiting lists have become longer.

And the existing facility can no longer accommodate the growing number of families in desperate need.

Not a Hotel. Not a Vacation. A Lifeline.

For children suffering from respiratory illnesses, CF, and severe skin conditions, staying at the Dead Sea is not a luxury.

It is treatment.

It is relief.

Sometimes, it is the difference between a night of suffering and a night in which a child can finally sleep peacefully.

Doctors and families alike know the phenomenon well:

The unique mineral-rich air of the Dead Sea provides some patients with relief that lasts for months after returning home.

For most people, the Dead Sea is a vacation destination.

For these children, it is their breath.

Even While War Rages Outside, the Fight for Breath Continues Inside

During months when hotels throughout the Dead Sea region stood nearly empty because of the security situation, the reality inside Chaim Layeled’s “Magical Moments” healing center looked completely different.

Because for these families, this is not leisure.

It is a medical necessity.

Even when sirens echoed through the region.

Even after shrapnel fell near the center’s courtyard.

The phone continued ringing.

And another mother asked the same heartbreaking question:

“Has a room become available?”

Because for these children, the real danger is not the sirens.

It is the moment they can no longer breathe properly again.

This Is Why They Are Building Here

Not another temporary guesthouse.

Not another partial solution.

But a new permanent center, larger, advanced, and purpose-built,

A place that will finally provide what is already desperately missing today:

Space.

A place to breathe.

A place to heal.

A place where a child can run without stopping halfway just to catch his breath.

Solid Ground. New Hope.

This week, the project entered one of its most emotional and significant stages.

After months of complex infrastructure work, plumbing, electricity, ventilation systems, and air ducts, flooring installation officially began inside the new building.

Construction dust rose into the desert air as trucks loaded with tiles arrived one after another at the site.

To the few passersby in this remote area overlooking the Dead Sea, it may seem like just another construction project.

But for the people of Chaim Layeled, this moment is almost impossible to describe.

Because these are not just walls.

These are rooms where children will finally breathe more easily.

These are hallways where exhausted mothers will no longer feel alone.

These are windows overlooking the Dead Sea for families who had nearly lost hope.

“Every Month of Delay Means Another Family Waiting”

Rabbi Reuven Sklar, chairman of Chaim Layeled, stands beside the nearly completed structure struggling to hide his emotion.

“There are moments when a mother calls asking if perhaps, somehow, a room became available.

And there is nothing harder than telling her no.

These children are not waiting for a vacation.

They are waiting for relief.

They are waiting for one night without coughing.

A few hours of peace.

A moment when their child can simply feel like a child again.”

Sometimes One Week Can Change a Life

One family that recently arrived at the center came following a doctor’s recommendation to try the unique climate of the Dead Sea.

Their daughter, who suffered from a severe respiratory condition, stayed for only one week.

But when she returned home, something changed.

“She coughs less,” her father wrote emotionally.

“And the greatest miracle is that her voice came back.”

Another mother shared that the moment that moved her most was hearing her son suddenly ask to go outside and play.

Sometimes, a small moment like that means everything.

A Healing Center That Can No Longer Keep Up

The existing Chaim Layeled center operates at full capacity all year long.

Not only during summer.

Not only during school vacations.

Also during Passover.

Rosh Hashanah.

Yom Kippur.

Sukkot.

The office phone rings again.

And another mother asks whether a room may have become available.

Sometimes the answer is no.

And sometimes, it is the mothers themselves who finally break down.

One mother recently shared:

“For the first time in years, my son slept through the night without a coughing attack.”

For one family, moments like these mean the world.

The Need Crosses Continents

Over the years, the center has become a destination for families from across the globe.

From the United States.

From Canada.

From Europe.

Families traveling thousands of miles for something most people never even think about:

The ability to breathe.

Because there are very few places in the world where respiratory and skin patients experience genuine relief the way they do at the Dead Sea.

Built in a Race Against Time

Even during a period when the entire construction industry faced severe labor shortages, logistical challenges, and delays, work at the Chaim Layeled site never stopped.

The cranes continued moving.

Workers kept arriving.

Construction continued day after day.

Even while sirens sounded in the background.

Because these children cannot afford to wait.

The Walls Are Already Standing.

But the Race Is Not Over Yet.

The structure already rises above the Dead Sea shoreline.

Rooms are beginning to take shape.

Windows already overlook the endless blue horizon.

And the dream feels closer than ever.

But in order to open the doors by this coming winter,

And to stop more families from waiting endlessly for an available room,

The journey is still unfinished.

Because behind every tile placed here,

There is a child waiting to breathe more easily.

Behind every room being built,

There is a mother hoping to finally sleep through the night.

And behind every window facing the Dead Sea,

There is a family waiting for hope.

And perhaps now, at the very moment this building is nearing completion, people have the opportunity to become part of something that will truly change children’s lives.

Not Just a Building. A Mission.

“We understood that this is the call of the hour,” says Rabbi Reuven Sklar.

“We want to reach the day when we no longer have to tell a crying mother that there is no room for her child.

We see miracles at every stage.

Good people continue opening their hearts.

Construction is moving forward.

The dream is becoming reality.

But the journey is still not complete.”

Building Hope

This center is not being built from money alone.

It is being built by people.

By people who chose to become part of something larger than another construction project.

Because there are moments when a person helps build a building.

And there are moments when a person becomes part of a child’s next breath.

Behind every completed room,

There is a family waiting.

Behind every door that opens,

There is a child waiting to feel like a child again.

Closing

Sometimes, in the middle of the construction site, all you can hear is the wind coming off the Dead Sea.

And in those moments, everyone remembers exactly why this place is being built.

One day, only a few months from now, these doors will open.

Children like Avi will walk inside carrying inhalers,

And walk outside carrying a ball.

One day, we will walk beside this new building and see a little boy running outside, laughter on his face.

And his mother will stand nearby, quietly wiping away tears of joy.

Because finally,

Her son can breathe easily.

And feel like every other child.

Most people who pass this building may never fully understand what was truly built here.

But the mothers will.

Because in the end,

this is not merely a building.

It is a place where children get to become children again.

————

To become a partner in this amazing project:

ZELLE: [email protected]

American Friends of Chaim Layeled
803 E 3rd St.
Brooklyn, NY 11218
Tel. +1347-512-0699

All contributions are tax-deductible Tax ID
Bank Name: Chase
Organization Name: American Friends of Chaim Layeled
Tax ID #: 04-3783120
Bank Account Number: 042084547465
ABA #: 021000021