Harvesting for Sukkot: A look at the farmers who grow the holiday's Four Species

At Sukkot time, many Jews focus on the Four Species – etrog (citron), lulav (palm frond), three hadassim (myrtle twigs), and two aravot (willow branches). But for Israeli farmers who grow the in-demand seasonal religious ritual necessities, it’s a year-round labor of love.

Shdeyur Avrahami, 72, grows etrogim on Moshav Maslul in the Negev, near Ofakim. His parents arrived in Israel from Iran in the 1950s, and he was the first son to be born on the moshav where he grew up.

Whenever a certain rabbi would visit him on Sukkot, he’d urge him to start planting etrogim, Avrahami told The Jerusalem Post. 

“I told him I was a good farmer and could do a good job of it, but I’m not a good salesman. The rabbi replied, ‘Don’t worry. My whole family deals with selling etrogim.’”

“So, that gave me the push to do it,” Avrahami explained. “I’ve been growing etrogim for the past 26 years now. I also own 200 dunams of lemon orchards and some spices, particularly baby arugula leaves.” In recent years, around half of his earnings come from the arugula and the other half from etrogim and lemons.

Avrahami sells his etrogim wholesale to warehouses, although some customers like to buy their etrogim directly from him.

“The war has affected us,” he said. Before October 7, his business had relied heavily on Palestinian and Thai workers. Once the war broke out, Israel banned Palestinian workers, and the Thai workers fled the country. Without enough workers to pick the lemons, half of them fell to the ground and rotted.

At first, volunteers stepped into the breach, helping as best they could, and a couple of months later, many Thai employees returned. “Things are beginning to normalize,” Avrahami said.

The farmers of the Four Species

DAVID ANGEL, 75, lives on Moshav Beit Gamliel (near Yavne in south-central Israel). When he retired from his job in security seven years ago, he decided to take another direction.

“I have always enjoyed agriculture, so I chose something new that I liked and hadn’t done before,” he told the Post. “I work exclusively with aravot, and it’s a hobby. We work on it all year long. I have 10 dunams, and there’s always work to do, such as tending to the trees and making sure there are no weeds or damage.”

Most of the work, however, is concentrated between Rosh Hashanah and Simchat Torah. “That’s the harvesting time, and we work almost 24 hours a day,” he said.

Last year, he didn’t feel the economic crunch because the war broke out on Simchat Torah, just after Sukkot. This year, however, there’s a lack of manpower. “It’s very problematic. We used to employ Palestinians from Judea and Samaria as well as from Gaza,” he said.

“Now, we’re working a lot with young people,” Angel explained. “I have adult grandchildren. One of my grandsons has completed his military service, another is currently serving in the IDF, and one has not yet begun his army service. Because they live on the moshav, they help me year-round, though most of the work is seasonal. They also bring their friends, but we can’t rely exclusively on them, since they also study.

“As for volunteers,” he continued, “I would feel uncomfortable asking for their help because I’m a pensioner, and this is a hobby. Thank God, my livelihood is secure. I prefer that the volunteers go where their help is more critical.”

Angel has been able to hire some Thai and Sri Lankan workers. “It raises our costs a bit, but we manage,” he said.

When asked about exporting his merchandise, Angel said the quantity he sends abroad is minimal because the procedure is complicated; however, “some of my customers do, but that’s up to them.” He sells his aravot primarily to ultra-Orthodox clients in Jerusalem and Bnei Brak, particularly from the Vizhnitz hassidic community, “although I’m not from those communities.”

SHMUEL VARON, 30, manages the agriculture on Moshav Matityahu in central Israel, growing grapes, etrogim, and hadassim. He lives in the nearby city of Modi’in.

“We also have a small winery on the moshav,” he told the Post. “Because it’s a religious moshav, we decided to grow etrogim and hadassim and make it into a main business. Agriculture is not easy, but this is my life’s project.”

Varon began planting etrogim seven years ago and hadassim five years ago. 

“Etrogim are very, very special,” he explained enthusiastically. “Each one is different from the other. It’s like the heart of a person. When I go to the etrog fields, I see the differences; none of them look the same. Each one is unique. It’s unbelievable. That’s part of the passion. Some people will just see a bunch of etrogim, but when you grow them, you understand the different groups, and even within those groups, there are differences.”

The commandment regarding the acquisition of an etrog is the only one that specifies hidur (splendor). As for customers’ preferences, “the Ashkenazim mostly take one that’s in the Hazon Ish group – from the type of tree that the sage took his own and said it was good.”

(Avraham Yeshaya Karelitz (1878-1953), an outstanding talmudic scholar, one of the greatest authorities on Jewish law, and a leader of haredi Jews in Israel in the last 20 years of his life, is widely known as the Hazon Ish, the name of his magnum opus.)

“Then there’s the Yemenite etrog. Some people who came from there brought the seeds and planted them in Israel. There’s a lot of tradition involved.

“Those are just two examples. I grow four types of etrogim. There are also the Moroccan etrogim and the Land of Israel etrogim. Etrogim are a big deal for some people. Some people take two types,” he said, adding that Chabad uses the Calabria etrog, which he doesn’t grow.

According to Varon, the price of an etrog could start at around NIS 12 wholesale and NIS 50 retail, but “some are priceless. A typical avreich [man attending a kollel, or post-graduate yeshiva] will pay NIS 200-250 for a nice one and about NIS 50-60 if he is buying it for a child.”

Varon sells to organizations and individual customers but exports very little. He estimates that Israel exports approximately 350,000 etrogim annually and sells double that amount locally.

“An etrog tree is one of the weakest you’ll ever see,” Varon told the Post. “Every 12 years, we renew the trees. An etrog is the first pri etz hadar [“glorious fruit,” according to the Torah] in the world. For an etrog to be kosher, it depends a lot on the tree because it can’t be very weak. If you could put an etrog on a lemon tree, it would be a lot stronger, but we’re not allowed to do that [according to Halacha – Jewish law]. The etrog tree’s genetics are pure – no mixing.”

Interestingly, he noted, the etrog originated thousands of years ago in Asia.

“In order for me to get good etrogim, I have to start taking care of the trees around Purim,” in the spring, he said. “We work eight months a year on etrogim – from Purim until after Sukkot, because we still have to trim the trees after the holiday.”

Varon explained that “since we already had the etrog” he decided to grow hadassim as well, 

This year was unusually difficult because, as a reservist, Varon spent four months in Gaza and ‘I couldn’t take care of the trees.” Before the war, he said, “I had some Thai workers, but they all left when the war began. I also had Arab [Palestinian] workers, but then they couldn’t come in.”

It also took an especially long time to collect payment for last year’s etrogim, he said, because the customers generally pay after the holiday, and, with all the tragedy, this got complicated. “It was a loss,” Varon said. “I’m hoping this year will be better. May all the Jewish people have a Chag Sameach (Happy Holiday) – and unity!”