In the summer of 2014, during the height of that year’s war in Gaza, known as Operation Protective Edge, seven-year-old Shira Grinberg’s life changed forever when her father fell defending their country. At the time, Shira found solace and support at the IDF Widows and Orphans Organization.
Now, a decade later, at the age of 17, Shira has returned to the IDFWO as a counselor in the organization’s Otzma Camps for bereaved children of IDF and security forces personnel. In this role, she guides and supports other IDF orphans, drawing on her own experiences to help them navigate their grief.
As Shira prepares to enter the IDF herself, she reflects on how her journey has shaped her resilience and deepened her commitment to giving back to those walking a path she knows all too well. Shira’s story is not only about looking ahead but is also deeply rooted in the past, in the loss of her father, Amotz Grinberg, who embodied dedication to his country.
“My father was always a soldier,” she recalls. “Even after turning 45, when most soldiers are released from reserve duty, he continued to serve. My father said, ‘Give me a job to do. I want to be involved.’ When Operation Protective Edge began, he was already on his way south.”
AMOTZ GRINBERG’S sense of duty led him to volunteer for service during Operation Protective Edge as a volunteer reservist in the 188th Armored Brigade, although he wasn’t summoned. “There was a lot of tension at home because no one wanted him to go,” Shira remembers. On July 17, 2014, the sirens sounded in the area where he was stationed, near the Gaza border. While running to the shelter, Amotz fell and badly injured his hands.
“They told him to go home and take a few days off because he couldn’t function: His hands were bandaged, and he couldn’t move them,” Shira explains. Reluctantly, Amotz returned home. When the sirens sounded near their home in Hod Hasharon the next evening, he led his family to the stairwell to safety and told them, “I’m going back tomorrow; I’m not staying here.” Amotz assured his family that he would not enter Gaza and would stay in a safe area. Early the following morning, before dawn, he left home for the last time.
Amotz and six other soldiers were sent out on patrol in three jeeps. “My father had volunteered for this patrol and stepped in for someone who wasn’t ready,” Shira explains. “It was simply a matter of who was ready soonest. The original soldier assigned to the patrol was still getting ready when my father, already prepared, took his place.”Near the fields of Kibbutz Be’eri, a heavily armed terrorist squad ambushed the patrol. Amotz was killed in a firefight with the terrorists. After his death, he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel.
The impact of his death
The devastating news deeply impacted Shira’s family, drastically altering their lives.
The IDF first informed her father’s parents and her uncles, who lived in Yotvata. IDF representatives then arrived at the family home in Hod Hasharon, but Shira and her family were visiting her other grandparents in Yavneh at the time.
By the time the bearers of tragic news reached Yavneh, the family was on their way back to Hod Hasharon.Shira clearly recalls the knock on the door when the IDF arrived, and heard her mother’s screams when she learned of her husband’s death. “I saw my entire family there – soldiers, so many people, and more kept coming through the door. By the time they told us, the news was reporting that an officer had been killed.
“Everyone already knew, except for me.” For seven-year-old Shira, the loss of her father was incomprehensible.The aftermath was a period of profound silence and isolation for the newly bereaved child. “The entire house felt dark without him. It was as if everyone continued forward except for us. All the other families, except the four of us, were moving forward, and we were the only ones stuck,” she recalls.
“At that time, no one could be with me because everyone was in their own world. I was young, and I didn’t have my own world,” she says. “All I had was my family, and they didn’t have the ability to deal with me. Everyone stopped speaking.”
It was during this time that the IDFWO reached out to Shira and her family, offering a lifeline amid the darkness.The junior group had yet to be established, so only her older brother and sister could participate. “My siblings went to their first camp, had a great time, and told me all about it,” she says. “I didn’t have the chance to go then, but as soon as they opened the junior group, I joined.”
The IDF Widows and Orphans Organization became more than just an organization for Shira; it became a community that understood her pain, offering her a space to begin healing. “I really enjoyed it there. I’ve been going back for almost 10 years, which was not something I took for granted.”
Shira’s involvement with the IDFWO helped her navigate her grief in ways she hadn’t thought possible. “While in the Otzma Camp, everyone finds their way of coping. It was difficult for me to speak about my father without crying.” Shira acknowledges that after her father died, she felt that time had stopped. “I hadn’t had the chance to find my way of coping yet.” The use of dark humor was common. “When I heard someone joking about it, I was shocked and started crying, and asked how they could laugh about it. They answered, ‘How can you not laugh about it?’"
Over time, Shira began to see IDFWO as a crucial part of her life, offering support in ways no one else could. “I think that without them, I wouldn’t have been able to talk about it even today. Because the people there don’t make a big deal out of it. If I talk about my father, people won’t start crying in front of me.
“Sometimes, you just want to talk about your father as if he’s still here without people feeling uncomfortable continuing the conversation,” she says. “By making it something normal, they also made me feel normal – I felt I was normal.” Shira also reflects on the organization’s bar/bat mitzvah trip, describing it as one of the most profound experiences of her life.
“The bat mitzvah trip was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever done in my life,” she says. “First of all, our guides were the best in the world. I don’t think anyone could have handled us better than they did. I traveled with my best friends. I was with them the whole time, and it was just a wonderful experience.“They took care of everything.” Shira and her fellow participants visited New York, Chicago, and Toronto.
As Shira and others like her continue to grow, the IDFWO’s role remains as vital as ever. The horrors of Oct. 7, with its echoes of past traumas, serve as a reminder of the ongoing challenges faced by those who have lost loved ones. Yet, within this pain, there is a shared understanding: a communal resilience that binds them together.
“A lot of new people have joined the Otzma Camp. Sometimes I don’t know what to say to them because there’s nothing you can say to make things better. But sometimes the phrase ‘Time heals all wounds’ is so true because, although the loss is still there, time helps,” she says.
“There’s no need to fear time because the loss is there – it’s not going anywhere. Even if you don’t have many memories and moments, you still experienced loss, and it’s there. But life goes on, and you can cope with it.”Shira affirms, “Ten years have passed since my father’s death, but time does not stop. I have continued to live, though his absence is felt even more.”
Eagerly looking forward to beginning her IDF service, she hopes to serve in the Armored Corps, following in her father’s footsteps. Like her father, who was a lawyer, she also hopes to enter the legal profession some day. Shira loves to write and says that she uses her skills in this area to express her feelings of loss. “I love to speak, and I love to be with people,” she enthuses.
Shira’s story is one of many within the IDFWO community, each marked by loss but also by an enduring hope. As the organization commemorates 10 years since Operation Protective Edge ended on August 26, 2014, it also looks ahead, continuing to provide the support, community, and healing that orphans like Shira need in order to thrive.
With the strength of the IDFWO community behind them, these young people are not alone. They carry the legacy of their loved ones forward, finding new ways to live fully and honor the memories of those they have lost.And in this, there is hope – hope for a future where life, in all its complexities, can still be beautiful.
This article was written in cooperation with the IDF Widows and Orphans Organization. Contact them at www.idfwo.org/en/