by Naama Lansky and Shlomo Diaz
Under a blazing sun, droves of young people accompany the three murdered teens to their final resting places in the Modiin cemetery • They will never cut our nation down, says Ashkenazi chief rabbi.
The three graves surrounded
by mourners on Wednesday
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Photo credit: KOKO  |
Heroes. Wrongdoers. Tragedy. Grief. Martyrs.
These are just some of the words we heard on Tuesday, from dawn till
dusk. And also: Fate. Faith. Redemption. Holiness. They said Gil-ad
Shaer was mature, industrious, steadfast, responsible, a natural leader.
Eyal Yifrach was full of love and generosity, and never refused a call
for help. And Naftali Frenkel was a precocious guitar player who knew
how to listen; though he may have appeared quiet and introverted, he was
actually quite social, active and intellectual.
A great, thunderous river of words spoken from
the depths of our hearts, yet unable to capture even slightly just how
menacing and shocking the murder of young people really is, especially
these three boys. How can you conjure up a boy through words? Our
children are manifested through faces, voices, tastes, smells and touch.
They are anecdotes, inside jokes, idiosyncrasies and plans for the
future.
A mother who had lost her son once told me
that from the moment a child is buried, the parents are lost to the
exhausting and Sisyphean struggle of collecting and preserving every bit
and piece of memory, so the child stays something much more potent than
words. But slowly, the memories fade, becoming blurry and vague.
Bereaved parents pursue them, chasing an infinite distance. They attempt
to recapture, to keep them vibrant and precise, bursting with color,
sounds and smells. Because that's what their children were. Not phrases.
Not words.
There are no words to describe just how hard
we were all hit by the kidnapping and murder of these three boys.
Peoples' actions have done the job of conveying that message. Under
blue, cloudless skies and a blazing sun, which for the moment has yet to
soften its rays, hordes of mourners flocked to the cemetery in Modiin
to accompany them to their final resting places. Quiet and respectful
groups weaved along the deer trails cutting across the edges of nearby
forests. Some individuals held babies while others held crutches or sat
in wheelchairs. The elderly pushed through with determination. Droves of
teenagers chose to dedicate the first hours of their summer break
escorting these boys to their graves. Despite the heavy crowds and lack
of even the slightest breeze, not a single person turned back.
Sitting in the back of one of vehicles
accompanying the procession, 33-year-old Eran Avidor from Kibbutz Naaran
in the Jordan Valley was wearing a blue Mahanot Ha'Olim T-shirt, which
was indeed at the center of the youth presence.
"How is it possible to go on living when these
three boys who never hurt anybody were murdered," he said. "There's an
attempt to latch this tragedy onto a specific group, but it is all of
ours. Expressing solidarity shouldn't soften the debate in our society,
but draw its limits. When teenagers are kidnapped and murdered, there's
no debate."
Alongside Avidor was Elhanan Peretz, a
19-year-old from Netivot and a student at the Derekh Hayim hesder
yeshiva. He was on a trip to Tiberias when he heard the news, and
traveled by bus to Modiin with 30 of his friends because "every Jew must
honor the mourners."
Eliyahu and Michal Asulin from Mevo Horon were
also among those grieving. Their daughter, Odelia, was critically
wounded three years ago when a bomb was detonated outside the
International Convention Center in Jerusalem. Fourteen-year-old Odelia,
who was on her way home from Ulpana where she studied, is still in a
coma.
"Just like our daughter, these three boys are
messengers," Michal explained. "When tragedies like this happen, we must
raise our eyes to the heavens and know that the Holy One, Blessed be
He, has determined our path. There are no coincidences. Each was
selected to fulfill a purpose. Perhaps, thanks to [these boys], we will
be prevented from further kidnappings. Perhaps terrorist attacks will be
avoided. Perhaps during the course of the search, weapons caches were
discovered. What certainly happened was the bringing of our hearts
closer together. Where else in the world does such a nation exist? Just
see how special, Jewish and Zionist this moment really is."
Her words provided context for others heard on Tuesday: Hope. Gratitude. Mental fortitude. Unity. Strength.
After Sephardi Chief Rabbi Yitzhak Yosef led a
prayer at the ceremony, the head of the Makor Haim yeshiva, Rabbi Dov
Zinger, also delivered a eulogy.
"Gil-ad and Naftali's place at this yeshiva's
Beit Midrash has been vacated -- third column from the right, second
row," he said. "You were kidnapped from us in the middle of final exams,
the beginning of life, so much life. Our dear Naftali -- guitar,
basketball, reading and more than anything else exceptional spiritual
talent, profound seriousness and cynicism. Beloved Gil-ad always sought
truth, was gracious, mature, caring, resourceful, the center of his
friends. Eyal, who unfortunately I did not ever meet, but whom I heard a
lot about, he believed greatly in what he did."
Chief Ashkenazi Rabbi David Lau spoke of national resilience.
"They will never cut our nation down, for we have Gil-ad, Naftali and Eyal, for all the nation and all the world," he said.
Naama Lansky and Shlomo Diaz
Source: http://www.israelhayom.com/site/newsletter_article.php?id=18555
Copyright - Original materials copyright (c) by the authors.
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