A perfect Jerusalem evening. The mountain breeze at 800 meters above sea level has overcome the desert heat. Just right for a modest outdoor bar mitzvah party. Despite the war, the chronic worries, and the protracted heartache, we can pause to celebrate an Israeli boy’s coming of age.
Etnachta
Etnachta. That special Aramaic word for “pause” is also one of the biblical cantillation symbols the boy has learned to chant his Torah portion on Shabbat. The hard part is over. Now the bar mitzvah boy, his family from Israel and abroad, and his merry classmates can relax. We need joyful breaks like this to bolster our resilience as the war continues.
The 13-year-olds are on the cusp of adolescence. How good and pleasant it is to see them together. Etnachta. Soon they will be tall and brawny and preoccupied by the thorny decisions about military service that uniquely face Israeli teens. Before they can puzzle out what they want to be when they grow up, they have to find their path in serving their country.
A DJ puts on Israeli music. Nearly everyone gets up to dance. Noa Kirel’s song “Unicorn,” Israel’s 2023 Eurovision entry, is playing. Kirel said the song references her difficulties at age 13 when she faced criticism for her musical career.
At one of the tables, the bar mitzvah boy’s cousin, let’s call him S, stands up to join the dancing.
S has a techy-looking black brace on his leg.
I know S because I am privileged to meet the wounded soldiers at Hadassah Medical Organization’s two campuses.
Like a film rewinding, I think back to the beginning of the war.
OCTOBER 6. Half the soldiers usually stationed on the border with Gaza are elsewhere. Many are on holiday leave. Others are repositioned to areas considered in need of protection.
Before the Simchat Torah holiday begins, well-intentioned civilians visit the bases bringing barbecue equipment and kebab skewers. Those who remain on the bases are encouraged to celebrate Simchat Torah with a festive meal and dancing.
Nearby, the Supernova Sukkot Gathering festival has received last-minute permission to set up in a large field, considered safe. Other Israeli locations have been rejected. Raves have become very popular around the world. Some 4,000 music lovers, from Israel and abroad, have registered for the party, even without knowing the exact location. Finally, they learn it will take place close to Kibbutz Be’eri, also near the headquarters of the IDF’s Gaza-area defense. A second, smaller rave with 100 participants called Psycuck is approved in the open fields between Kibbutz Nir Oz and Kibbutz Nirim, two km. from the Gaza border.
As the sun is rising at 6:29 on Oct. 7, the largest-ever barrage of missiles is fired on Israel. Thousands of terrorists break through the security fence or enter Israel on motorized paragliders and by sea.
Just waking, our soldiers are surprised by terrorists infiltrating their bases. They are outnumbered by the well-trained Hamas terrorists armed with heavy machine guns, rocket-propelled grenade launchers, and land mines. Still, they engage in combat.
S is one of the young heroes who fights off the terrorists who entered the outpost near the humanitarian crossing, where Gilad Schalit was abducted in 2006, ironically called Kerem Shalom, “Vineyard of Peace.” S is wounded by shrapnel but continues fighting. Then he is shot in the legs.
For 10 hours, his parents don’t know if he’s alive. At last, they hear he is being heli-vacked to Hadassah Ein Kerem. His father will later say it was one of the happiest moments of his life. They will find S in the intensive care unit after his first surgery.
I remember S in intensive care before and after his numerous surgeries, and then in the new Gandel Rehabilitation Center. The soldiers never fail to inspire with their courage.
I remember him speaking – his first time addressing a visitor – when US Ambassador Jack Lew came to visit the war wounded on the ambassador’s second day in his new position. S spoke of the importance of defeating terror.
Eight months have passed. S, like thousands of wounded soldiers, is still in rehabilitation. I have seen him grimacing through the routines of physical therapy and occupational therapy.
It has paid off. He can dance at his cousin’s bar mitzvah.
Heroism
THE ATROCIOUS mistakes that made Israel so vulnerable on Oct. 7 need to be fixed. They can be. But let us not forget that the counterweight to the horrors of Oct. 7 is the heroism of the soldiers and civilians whose initiatives contained the attack and who continue to fight, with valor, an enemy both above and below ground.
Day after day, the wounded soldiers summon the emotional strength and fortitude to undergo rehabilitation.
We attend funerals and memorial ceremonies. Our hearts are ripped by the knowledge that the hostages are still enslaved. We are relieved when the IDF spokesperson has no new dead to announce on the morning news.
Let’s not forget the war wounded. They deserve our best ongoing support, without the distressing stories of soldiers having to fight for their rights and the support they deserve. We do not publicize the challenges of the wounded. We count on Israeli medicine and Israeli innovation. We pray for heavenly help.
In the physical therapy room where S works out, I ask the soldiers, police, and civilians where they were wounded. They answer: Jabalya, Zeitun, Kerem Shalom, Gaza City, Khan Yunis, Kissufim, and – the latest, the newcomers – Rafah. They are privates to generals, rookies to commanders, 19-year-olds to men and women old enough to be parents of the younger soldiers. Among them are civilians gravely wounded by rockets and terrorist attacks. They are fighting not only for our people but for the people of the entire free world.
In the physical therapy room, there is suddenly loud laughter. A soldier, a father of four, recovering from his injury, has received another call-up notice for reserve duty. I think it’s an error, but he says he will go back. That’s the kind of hero you meet in the rehab building.
Or on a bar mitzvah dance floor.
Everyone sings along as the song of strength and resilience plays.
"I’m gonna stand here like a unicorn, out here on my own, I got the power of a unicorn, don’t you ever learn?"
The writer is the Israel director of public relations at Hadassah, the Women’s Zionist Organization of America. Her latest book is A Daughter of Many Mothers.