Perhaps Pictures are the Right Words to Use

On Facebook, I see a picture. A before and after image that the world sees. It is a picture taken in a vacuum, something our dear ignorant Secretary General of the United Nations would adore. Look at the beautiful beach the poor, deprived Palestinians living in utter squalor used to have and look what big, bad Israel did to it! What an outrage. And, as expected, the outrage for this beach is greater than the outrage for murdering "around 1,200 Jews" (the original number of 1,400 was determined to include 200 terrorists). Far greater, was the outrage for this beach, than for the raped women, beheaded bodies, kidnapped infants.

Hamas knows they need this picture to drive away the others. So to fill in the picture, I too mourn for this beach. How pretty it was before they brought their ugliness into our homes, our cities, and even our beaches. Today, their ugliness has been exposed. 

Horrible words - rape, beheading, torture, kidnapping. Babies murdered. Families devastated and separated. Couples who promised eternal love are now separated forever in the lifetime of the one left behind.

So here is a lovely picture of a beach in Gaza before Israel responded to Hamas aggression/terror/genocide. Crystal clear water, beautiful trees. 

But far more tragic than the devastation of a beach in Gaza is the devastating culture of death that thrives there. It is that culture, and not the Israeli army that destroyed their beach, a devastated our communities, our families, our homes, our country. Their martyr/death culture is why my son is in Gaza now and why I cry day and night and live with fear in my heart.

It is why, once again, my heart is torn open, always a part of it longing to know where David is, if he is okay. Where Shmuli is - as he too now joins the fight. I know where Elie is...he's home after 5 weeks in the Reserves and will go back in the coming weeks.

And I know where Yakov and Chaim are, they doo are in this fight. I am worried about them all, though I have the blessing of having Yakov and Chaim's mother close by, finally, and so the worry of her sons is mine but carried first and foremost by her. And together, we worry, as all the mothers (and fathers) of soldiers do in Israel.

And as I looked at the picture of this beach they want us to mourn, I see the desolation. It has indeed been erased, as their "culture" of death needs to be. And I begin to think about OUR pictures. The beauty of the gardens they planted, the homes they loved and cherished.

Ironically, the people who lived in these Israeli communities were likely the greatest advocates for the Gazans. The residents welcomed the Gazans into their homes, employed them, treated them well. Some drove Gazans from the border for medical treatment; many provided them with work.

And in exchange, they came, those who perhaps swam at the beautiful beach and brought destruction and death with them. 

Courtesy: Haaretz
(https://tinyurl.com/2rcf8bxn)

The Israeli families welcomed Gazans into their homes and the knowledge of who lived where, how many children they had, if they had a dog was collected and used to destroy the communities. 

A woman who goes away every week for Shabbat stayed home that tragic day and survived because Hamas had told its murderers that this woman's home is always empty on Shabbat and there was no reason to go into it. 

Each piece of information given to the terrorists filled in the pieces to the puzzle of the unprovoked, brutal massacre perpetrated against children, babies, women, elderly and unarmed men dancing at a party celebrating love and light and peace.

This is a map - a dot for each murdered person. A trail of blood and death and torture - this is what they brought to my beautiful country on October 7.

So before you show me the picture above and expect my shock and tears, before you accept their narrative, just look at the timing. 

On October 6, people went to the beaches in Gaza and in our beautiful villages, Be'eri, Nir Oz, they went about their lives in peace, planning for the weekend, for the holiday, for a day with friends and family. On October 6 at night, 5,000 Israelis gathered to dance the night away, under the stars and as the sun rose, they danced and celebrated life and light and peace.

Before that beach was destroyed, 1,200 people were murdered, 240 people dragged into captivity. Women were raped, forced to watch their children being murdered before their eyes. 

Lives were cut short, ended without mercy. People were burned alive. Grenades were planted in dead bodies to further the agony. And beautiful villages that had been full of trees and flowers were burned.

When you look in horror at the beach that was in Gaza, don't be the Secretary General of the United Nations, excusing away the horrors that preceded the sad destruction of a beach. Instead, look at the people and the homes and the villages that were destroyed FIRST. 

Look at the remnants of the massacre, of the blood left in the rom of children. The massacre that brought us to the determination that this would be the last time Hamas attacks us. Could any nation draw a different conclusion? 

So it was decided. So we will do. We will rebuild Be'eri and Nir Am and Nir Oz. We will rebuild all of these villages and find a way for these communities to be even stronger than they were. What was destroyed will be beautiful again. 

As for Gaza, I can only hope that once Hamas is eradicated, and it will be, perhaps they will choose this time to build beaches, schools, hospitals and parks and zoos for their children, as we do. 

So here's a warning - Gaza - if you again choose to build tunnels, buy rockets and rifles, then what you rebuild will likely be destroyed again and the cycle of terror and violence they demand and start each time, it will never end. 

For now, we fight. Our sons and daughters fight and we mothers...we cry, we try to sleep, we worry, we pray.

 q