In an era of growing social divisions in Israel, the Barmi family of Modiin represents a unique bridge between the religious and secular worlds. Attorney Oren Barmi, 44, and his wife, Neta Goshen-Barmi, 44, have built a life that seamlessly blends their different backgrounds while raising their three children to appreciate both traditions.

The Home: A five-bedroom townhouse with a garden in Modiin's Cramim neighborhood. The row of houses is tucked away, accessed through a parking area. A charming small path leads to the house. While each child has their own room, the family spends most of their time together in the living room.

Good Morning: The day begins around 7 a.m. Each morning, one parent prepares sandwiches and food for the children, each with different preferences for their lunch contents – "nothing spreadable except chocolate." They wake the children, and Neta drives them to school on her way to the Paatei Modiin train station for work. Oren usually leaves around the same time for his office, though sometimes he stays back to pray and have coffee at home before departing.

Students: They met during orientation week at the Hebrew University Law Faculty in 2002. Groups were divided alphabetically, putting Neta Goshen and Oren Barmi in the same sections with shared courses throughout. "We formed a tight-knit group of six or seven really good friends who lived the true student life, just like in TV shows and movies. Always going out together, hanging out. We were part of the group and good friends with each other."

Ponytail: Oren had a ponytail when they met, while Neta sported short, spiky red-orange hair. Oren took interest in Neta quite early, but she only "discovered" him, as she puts it, the day her mother gave him a haircut and removed the ponytail, which Neta found unattractive. "We started dating immediately after that."

Blend: They dated for four years, and while studying for the bar exam together, he suggested one evening that she change out of her sweatpants and dress up nicely. She immediately suspected a marriage proposal was coming. They married in August 2007. This wasn't a typical union, as Neta came from a secular background while Oren was Modern Orthodox. "From the beginning of our relationship, we needed discussions about how our shared life would look, where the children would study, and what the wedding would be like. Indeed, at every stage, you can see the blending of our two worlds."

Hot Plate and Pot: During Oren's first Shabbat at Neta's home, he arrived with a Shabbat hot plate and a pot. When she was invited to Friday night dinner at his parents' house as a surprise for his birthday, she thought "Shabbat evening" meant Saturday night. "It's worth noting that both our families embraced our mixed relationship beautifully and lovingly from day one, and that's our part in bringing hearts together to this day."

Phone and Television: The children's daily life follows religious practices: they observe Shabbat, keep kosher, pray, and so on, while Neta's secular lifestyle is present in the home. She uses her phone on Shabbat and watches television in her room. The prevailing discussion at home is that children will shape their own path when they grow up.

Consulting and Problem-Solving: Neta is an employment law expert and partner at Arnon, Tadmor-Levy, working from the Azrieli Towers in Tel Aviv and occasionally from their Jerusalem office. She provides ongoing counsel primarily to major companies, tech firms, and startups, represents clients in court, and handles company acquisition deals. "I truly love my work and enjoy it, along with the company and atmosphere at the firm."

Oren is an attorney specializing in a niche field: municipal taxation. He co-owns an independent firm with partner Haim Goldfarb. The firm serves major companies across all sectors, dealing with property taxes, development levies, and various municipal fees. "The work involves ongoing consultation and numerous proceedings in appeals committees and administrative court petitions." Oren deeply enjoys his field and the challenge of 'cracking' each case to find the best legal approach for achieving favorable economic outcomes for clients.

Modiin: Initially, they lived in Tel Aviv, at the corner of Dizengoff and Jabotinsky. Oren promised they would move when their first child was born, and when Yonatan was one month old, they relocated to an apartment in Modiin. They chose Modiin for its proximity to family and the city's character. Neta's parents live in Maccabim, one of her sisters lives in the area, and Oren also has a brother in Modiin. "Additionally, given our religious-secular background, we knew Modiin had a school that integrates religious, traditional, and secular students, which was one of the important factors for us."

According to them, Modiin proved to be a wonderful city for families and raising children. "It's like a rural city, full of gardens and green parks, activities, and families in similar situations. We're part of the 'Yachad Community,' which has many activities outside school, including community Sabbaths, which are the crown jewel. We're also part of the 'Orot HaCramim' synagogue community, which has numerous activities and especially makes Sabbaths enjoyable. We've made many friends in the city, and lots of children constantly visit us."

France: Oren was born in Paris to a Religious Zionist family and had two older brothers. In 1984, when he was four, the family decided to immigrate to Israel. "All this while his father was already a doctor of psychology with a clinic and work, and his mother was already ill with cancer, and without knowing any Hebrew. They chose to settle in Rishon LeZion to avoid living in a concentration of French immigrants." They started from scratch, jobless and spending their time in Hebrew language classes, until slowly building their lives in Israel. Oren attended a religious elementary school and a religious high school in Rishon LeZion. In the army, he served in a communications role in a classified Air Force unit.

Maccabim: Neta was born in Rishon LeZion, the middle of three daughters, to a very liberal secular family. In 1986, when she was six, her family decided to move to the then "remote" and new settlement of Maccabim before the city of Modiin or the settlement of Reut existed. Neta served in the army as an education NCO in Shivta and later as an education officer in Har Gilo. She knew she wanted to be a lawyer since third grade.

Schnitzels: Yonatan loves basketball, playing regularly twice a week in a program ("not really a team"), and has even attended NBA games during his bar mitzvah trip. He enjoys hanging out with friends in the city center of Modiin. Nadav plays table tennis in a club and sometimes even beats his father. Rotem studies drama and loves making schnitzels and meatballs, hoping to become an actress or pastry chef. "Thanks to her strong interest in reading the 'Home Visit' column, we're here."

The post How this couple brings together religious and secular worlds appeared first on www.israelhayom.com.

In the aftermath of the October 7 Hamas attack, the Tahan family's world was shattered when Rani Tahan fell in the ensuing conflict. Now, his widow Raz and their four young children are forging a new path in Kibbutz HaOgen, near Netanya, after evacuating Sde Nehemia in the Upper Galilee. While balancing grief, they are determined to embrace life and community in their new home.

Home // A repurposed kindergarten in Kibbutz HaOgen now serves as the Tahan family's living quarters. With four bedrooms, two kitchens, a living room, and a bathroom, the space is filled with children's equipment, like sandboxes and cribs. "This was meant to be our temporary home until Rani returned from reserve duty," Raz reflects. "But dreams and plans are one thing, and reality is another."

Voluntary Evacuation // "We came to the kibbutz after deciding to leave Sde Nehemia, having moved between my siblings," Raz explains. "The kibbutz took in families who self-evacuated, not those officially evacuated, so we received no state assistance. Kibbutz HaOgen stepped up to help us, but among everything else, we had to contend with this too. There's a huge financial struggle because there's no government aid for those who evacuated voluntarily."

Mornings // "Everything starts too early," Raz says, waking at 5:30 AM. "On good mornings, we spend time in the living room playing board games, and I get to relax on the couch with the children. Less successful mornings involve flying pillows and hands – if everyone's awake so early, why not annoy each other? Especially the boys."

Around 6 AM, breakfast begins with bowls of cornflakes and milk. "My children were used to their father baking fresh bagels every morning," Raz recalls. "So after cereal, the kitchen reopens. I try to recreate that, taking orders from each child." The rest of the meal involves a division of labor: one child prepares egg toppings – mushrooms, cheese, feta, cilantro, and green onion; another cuts vegetables or makes salad; one sets the table; another fries eggs; and one prepares Raz's coffee. "These moments fill the house with the smells of a normal home. Everyone sits to eat, and this time around the table is sacred – open conversation and listening."

Work // Until two months ago, Raz worked at "Peimot," an organization supporting new parents from the birth of their first child until age three. As a mentor, she says, "I usually worked with first-time parents, building a kind of 'parental vision.' It's meaningful work with a sense of mission, but now I don't have the emotional capacity to guide others through their journeys. Today, I'm fully devoted to the needs of our children."

Background // Raz, the third of four siblings from Rehovot, saw two of her siblings become religious. After high school, she served in the Givati Brigade as an operations sergeant in the Maglan unit. Rani grew up in Rosh Pina, also one of four children. "He was always curious about the world," Raz remembers. "An autodidact who learned extensively, especially about agriculture. As a child, he was eager to discover everything."

Military Service // Rani served in the Givati Brigade. "For the first time, he felt loved, appreciated, and worthy," Raz says. "He truly found his purpose. During his service, he witnessed an incident where his deputy company commander and company commander were killed. As the medic, he carried the burden of not saving them, even though it was impossible. This led to his post-traumatic stress disorder."

Their Meeting // They met at Givat Haviva after their regular service, both there for grade improvement courses. "We first met in a math class," Raz recalls. "His charm, the sparkle in his eyes, the look that said 'everything will be okay' without words – these things moved me. He was the only one who could reassure me with just a look, and I believed him completely. That's why I never thought he could die. Rani wasn't someone who dies; he was like a street cat, always managing, unbeatable. He had broad shoulders and could break unbearable situations with his humor."

Life Upended // The Tahans' life is divided into before and after October 7. "Until the war, we were a typical family – joys, fights, dreams, plans," Raz says. "On October 7 at noon, our new life began. I couldn't grasp how everything changed so fast. Rani told me he was packing a bag to 'save our home, all our homes,' despite his reserve duty exemption. He said, 'I'm going south,' asked for my blessing, and left. For two weeks, they cleared the area of terrorists and evacuated many bodies."

Displacement // Having lived in northern Israel for nine years, Raz fled south with the children when war broke out. "I thought Rani would return in days and we'd go back to Sde Nehemia. For six weeks, he fought while I moved between my siblings' homes with the kids."

New Beginnings // Two days before Rani's death, Kibbutz HaOgen offered Raz a vacant kindergarten for housing. "We told Rani, and he was excited we were moving to a place called 'The Anchor.' We all needed one. We planned to wait there for him to join us after his service."

The Knock // Raz planned to move on November 19. "On the 18th, officers came to tell us Rani had been killed in Gaza. Two days after the shiva, understanding my commitment to Rani and the children, I chose life and we moved to the kibbutz. That's when our new life truly began."

Memories // "The children started school, made new friends. We buried Rani a seven-minute drive away. Whenever we miss him or want to share secrets, we visit," Raz says. "People here no longer see us as pitiful. Our children are just like the others, and I want to keep them in this familiar place."

Looking Ahead // "I'm putting everything on the line now," Raz admits. "It's frightening, but our children's lives, stability, and security matter most. We'll soon have to leave this temporary home, so I started a crowdfunding campaign – 'Our Heart Needs an Anchor' – to buy a house here. I'm essentially raising money to choose life, to stay here, because we can't handle another upheaval."

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