I was dreading today’s schedule. As an empath, I knew it would likely be one of the hardest days I’ve ever faced—and sadly, it proved true.
Our day began at the lookout point at Givat Ha’Tatzpitaniyot (Observers’ Hill), where we gazed out over Gaza while learning about the role of women in the IDF. We paused to pray and sing in memory of those who were abducted and killed on October 7. The weight of bearing witness to the loss of these young lives, who paid the ultimate price simply by fulfilling their duty in the IDF, was almost unbearable.
Next, we visited Kibbutz Nachal Oz to hear about the horrors of October 7 and the ongoing threats and challenges that the community faces daily. We saw homes that had been infiltrated by terrorists, with bullet holes still marking the windows. Daniel, a member of the Kibbutz, shared his harrowing experience of hiding with his wife while terrorists attacked their community. The cruelty and atrocities committed against his friends, neighbors, and family were unfathomable. As Daniel spoke, we could hear bombs detonating in the background across the border with Gaza. Smoke rose in the distance, and I found a spent M-16 bullet casing. Slowly, the community is planning to rebuild, and we saw a glimpse of hope in a home that was being reconstructed amidst the destruction.
Our next stop was the site of the Nova music festival. As soon as we set foot on the bloodstained ground, I couldn’t hold back my tears, especially when we reached a tent where a Rabbi was writing a Torah scroll commissioned by the family of one of the kidnapped victims. The hope is that by the time the Rabbi finishes the Torah, their loved one, Aryeh Zalmanovich, will be safely returned. We listened to a powerful testimony from Shai Klein Weinstein, a Nova survivor who narrowly escaped the hands of the brutal attackers. He revealed that Hamas had taken drugs to help them commit these unspeakable crimes—drug-induced madness that allowed them to carry out their horrific deeds.
We then visited a compound filled with 1,560 burnt vehicles—silent witnesses to the devastation of October 7. Here, we heard an incredible story of courage and resilience from Rami Davidian, a farmer from Moshav Patish, who risked everything to save hundreds of lives amidst the chaos. I embraced him, overcome with emotion, and once again, I broke down in tears.
Our final stop was Sderot, a city on Israel’s border with Gaza, where we met with local police officers to hear firsthand about the ongoing challenges and unyielding resilience of this community in the aftermath of the attack.
It’s impossible to capture in words the deep, heavy feelings I experienced today. It was as if the air itself was thick with the presence of death—like thousands of ghosts were hovering above the land, which had just suffered the worst assault in its history. People here are trying to rise each day, to rebuild, to carry on amidst the unimaginable destruction. The heaviness of what has occurred is palpable, and the dread in the air is suffocating.
This has been one of the hardest days of my life. I feel exhausted, beaten down, angry, and sad—on the verge of screaming with the pain of it all. But amidst all of this, I hold onto the knowledge that Am Yisrael will rise again, stronger and more unified than ever.
Am Yisrael Chai עם ישראל חי
