It's Friday in Israel and Eli Sharabi Speaks to Me

It's Friday in my beloved, tortured country. We are in the holiday of Sukkot, and so we will eat outside under the heavens tonight. I'm reading Eli Sharabi's book, "Hostage" and as I read, I marvel at my people.

He writes of having been with Ido Danino and Hersh Goldberg-Polin and Almog Sarusi for a short while, parting when the three were told they would be going home...only to be barbarically executed a short time later.

Eli Sharabi writes of his desperate attempt to survive, to remain positive. Born out of that desire was a tradition started among the four that remained. Each night they would think of something good that had happened that day. At first, it was a challenge but after some time, it changed their perspectives. 

Each went through the day, looking for something good so they could share it later in the day. A good thing, Eli explains to those of us who cannot imagine their lives there, could be anything from an extra piece of a stale pita to the fact that one of the meaner, more savage guards was not there that day.

His story is written without pity. A testimony of good and evil; of intelligent men captured and determined to use their minds to survive; and evil men who endlessly spout the brainwashed nonsense they've been raised with.

Israel must cease to exist - in its entirety, they are told repeatedly. All of it, not just this area or that area. The occupation they speak of Israel in its totality. We are to return from whence we came - be that the concentration camps of Europe, the ghettos of Poland, the Arab lands from which we were expelled.

The hostages grow during their captivity, learning what is truly important in life - life itself, hope, positivity. Their captors never waver, never consider the cruelty of filling their stomachs while starving four innocent men pulled from their homes, from a party celebrating light, love, life.

It's Friday and my heart is broken for what they endured, for what they lost. My soul aches for the families who will soon find out whether their loved one's body will remain, at least for now, lost somewhere in Gaza.

Tears come easily today. It is Sukkot - perhaps my favorite holiday and yet I struggle to find joy. I have decorated our Sukkah with brightness and yet I bring too much darkness with me.

We wish each other - moadim l'simcha. It is a greeting that wishes upon those we meet times of joy and yet joy is so hard to find today.

And yet, forever a living contradiction, we are filled with a hope so delicate we are afraid it will shatter if we dare give it voice. Let them come home, we whisper in prayer. Please let them come home.

Those of us on the right are bruised from the many times they told us that we don't care about the hostages and so we suffer and hope in silence while they dance in the streets.

It's Friday in Israel and perhaps the hostages will be home before Simchat Torah next Tuesday. Think positive, Eli Sharabi tells his nation. Even one positive thought can help us survive and so here is mine...

I believe, with complete faith, that better days are coming. My house is filled with the smells of roasting wings and soon the salmon loaf my children and grandchildren love.

Thank you, Hashem, for all the blessings in our lives. Thank you for returning us home. Shabbat shalom. Moadim l'simcha