Today, three young women are thriving.
The eldest completed an undergraduate degree in social work. The middle sibling earned a degree in marketing. The youngest is entering her last year of high school. All three worked part-time throughout their studies and were active in their school and local communities.
Their work ethic stemmed from their parents, who have always prioritized education, including for their daughters. Trained as a lawyer in her home country, their mother retrained as a medical device technician and works in various hospitals in Toronto. Their father, who holds a PhD in economics, is also working, though not in his field. By their second year in Canada, the family had become financially independent, never once having applied for social assistance.
Amina, Hassan and their three daughters fled Syria after their city came under attack from Islamic State extremists. Food was scarce. Jobs were gone. The girls saw their teachers murdered. The family lived under constant threat.
They escaped to Turkey, where, as refugees, they had no legal work status. The girls were placed in a school with stringent religious practices that forced them to wear head coverings and endure ongoing bullying for their Ismaili heritage. However, remaining as refugees in a third country was their only hope of being accepted by a government willing to offer them safe haven.
After images of three-year-old Alan Kurdi lying face down on a beach in Turkey surfaced, Canada stepped up its commitment to support refugees, now risking dangerous journeys to escape the region.
In 2016, Amina, Hassan, and their three daughters arrived in Toronto to the embrace of a constituent group from Beth Tzedec Congregation, who had come together to privately sponsor the family and support them through their first year. They met the family at the airport with welcome signs and warmth, and helped secure an apartment despite the reluctance of many landlords to rent to refugees.
The family brought little with them to Canada but carried deep-seated values and determination. They believe in education, equality, and building a future for their daughters, values similar to those of their sponsors and new friends in Canada.
To celebrate the end of their first year in Canada, the family created a cookbook featuring a collection of family recipes that were prepared and served to the Beth Tzedec Congregation in appreciation for their help in bringing them to safety and a new home. Sprinkled throughout the cookbook were reflections from the girls about their experiences in that first year:
“My favourite food in Canada is pizza.”
“I feel safe to say what I think.”
“I love that we have the opportunity to live in peace.”
Years later, the relationship between the family and their Canadian sponsors continues. After the October 7 attacks in Israel, it was the family who reached out to their Jewish friends who had sponsored them, “How are you? This is terrible.” A gesture that shows — when built with honesty, care, and commitment — friendships bridge cultural divides.
Among those who organized the Constituent Group at Beth Tzedec Congregation, raised money, and helped the family was Bari Zittell, whose commitment would ripple far beyond one arrival.
She explains: “We need to remember we [Jewish people] were immigrants. We see what Jews have accomplished and added to life and society. Look at us and then ask yourself, will other immigrants be unable to add that same creativity and positivity to Canada? Why would we even question that others will not do the same? Everyone deserves a second chance, and we need to see supporting refugees as giving an opportunity.
Her words echo the heart of this story — a story of shared humanity, enduring connection, and mutual respect. What began as a single act of sponsorship evolved into a lifelong mission: Bari has since helped sponsor additional families from Syria and Eritrea. She stands with them through resettlement and every chapter that follows. The friendships she has built endure to this day, proving that when we open our hearts and homes, we change our lives for the better and the future of others. It is what happens when people choose to write a different ending — together.
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