Levi Preger, 27, did not grow up Jewish. Raised in a small town near the German border in the Netherlands in a Christian household, he describes his childhood as typical and close-knit, shaped more by community than religion.
“It was very town vibes,” he said. “Everyone knows each other. Life is centered around that town and not much else.”
But at 17, his life changed when he discovered, unexpectedly, that he was Jewish.
While visiting his grandmother, she asked him to translate an official letter from German authorities. The letter, from the government’s reparations department, stated that newly uncovered Holocaust archives listed his great-grandmother’s maiden name among families persecuted during the war. Officials had traced the nearest living relative – his grandmother – to offer compensation.
“It’s just like a family secret that has been lost for so long. And then we found out four generations later. It’s so crazy,” he said.
The discovery sparked a search for identity. At the time, Preger was finishing high school and was considering which university he wanted to apply to and in which direction his future would go. The timing made the revelation feel even more significant.
“Something within me said, I have to know, I have to get to the bottom of this.”
He began researching his family history with help from German archives and later a rabbi at a Chabad center in the Netherlands. He learned that his great-grandmother survived the Holocaust in hiding while her siblings were murdered. After the war, she returned home, married a Christian man and never told her children she was Jewish. Within a single generation, the identity quietly disappeared.
At 18, encouraged by the rabbi, he celebrated his bar mitzvah – a moment he describes as deeply meaningful. He recalled the rabbi telling him: “You lost your family, lost a bigger family for four generations, but you found us again.”
“That was very inspirational and it really got me thinking, what does it mean to be Jewish?”
That summer, he joined a Taglit-Birthright trip, his first time meeting other Jews his age and his first real connection to Israel. The experience left a strong impression on him.
Two years later, he returned to study Hebrew at an ulpan on Kibbutz Ma’agan Michael, hoping to explore his roots further.
“I wanted to explore my Jewish roots even further, which for me meant coming to Israel to learn Hebrew. Because I feel like, learning Hebrew was the best way to connect to the roots.”
It was then that he decided that he wanted to move to Israel.
“Once I set foot in Israel, I knew I was here to stay,” he said.
<br><strong>Finding his place in Israel</strong>
At 20, he made aliyah. Today, Preger is a second-year Government and International Relations student at Reichman University. He also served as a lone soldier in the IDF’s Nahal Reconnaissance Unit, a decision he saw as essential to integrating into Israeli society and building a life there.
Preger served nearly five years in the IDF between mandatory and reserve duty. For him, the army was less about obligation and more about belonging.
“A lot of people come to Israel to draft,” he said. “I came to Israel to integrate.”
His family was not initially pleased with his decision to move or enlist, though they eventually came around. As an only child, the choice carried added weight.
The transition was not simple and he faced many challenges. Without fluent Hebrew or immediate family in the country, even routine tasks – opening bank accounts, navigating healthcare and dealing with bureaucracy – were challenging. Socially, he often felt caught between cultures, no longer fully Dutch but not yet fully Israeli.
Joining the army brought its own hurdles. As a lone soldier, he relied heavily on informal support networks. At the same time, he says, Israelis often stepped in quickly to help, sometimes complete strangers offering Shabbat meals or assistance after brief encounters.
Alongside his studies and service, Preger became involved with the Growing Wings Foundation, a nonprofit that supports lone soldiers – those serving without family in Israel, or Israelis from difficult family backgrounds – through practical and community resources. Together with the organization's founder, Max Long – a former lone soldier from the United States who took Preger into the community, and acted as his mentor during his military service – they are building the community.
The organization connects soldiers to affordable housing, scholarships, furniture and moving assistance, mental health support and financial aid, helping make independent life sustainable during and after service. It also runs programs such as Rak Lefanek, which provides access to donated goods and services, and operates shared community spaces, including a flagship building for lone soldiers in Ramat Gan.
“It is for lone soldiers by lone soldiers - that’s the idea,” Preger said. He emphasizes that the organization supports a wide range of lone soldiers, including new immigrants, Haredim who left religious life, and others who enlist without family support. Preger himself received assistance as a student. While the state provides financial help, he believes more comprehensive support is still needed.
Part of the group’s broader mission includes advocacy. In 2025, Levi Preger joined other representatives from Growing Wings at the Knesset to advocate for lone soldier reservists. Their efforts led to the IDF formally recognizing nearly 8,000 lone reservists and providing them with additional benefits, including subsidized flights, gift cards, and mental health support.
For Preger, the journey has been one of personal transformation and purpose – from uncovering his family’s past to building a life rooted in service and community. Seven years after arriving, he now feels more at home in Israel. He also feels that Israel is safer than the Netherlands, where he has witnessed rising antisemitism.
“Once you set foot in Israel, you realize this is it for me,” he said. “I can truly say I feel like I belong and this is my country where I live… it’s my home.”