

Letter to Yarden Bibas
Dear Yarden, It’s 4:30 am. I wake up thinking about you. That must sound crazy, but I’m certain I’m not the only one. One of the things that I fell in love with since the aftermath
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Dear Yarden, It’s 4:30 am. I wake up thinking about you. That must sound crazy, but I’m certain I’m not the only one. One of the things that I fell in love with since the aftermath
I’m not one to express feelings in public. And I’m not one to leap onto passing trends like water rushing down a shower drain, pulling everyone with it. Even when that water is the compiled tears
To be the mother of a little ginger boy means you whisper in their tiny ears that they got their blazing locks from David HaMelech, who everyone knows was gorgeous. To be the mother of a
I don’t know how we’re going to feel after this war in Gaza. My only point of reference is how we felt after the 1973 Yom Kippur War. I remember the pain, the sorrow, the communal
In the shadows where I used to hide,
Thoughts like chains, they pulled me inside.
Days felt heavy, nights dragged on,
But deep inside, a spark was drawn.
I’ll rise from the ashes, I’ll find my way,
Leave the past behind, it’s a brand new day.
The storm may linger, but I’ll learn to dance,
With every heartbeat, I’ll take a chance.
Like a thousand chimes at midnight[1]
A reminder
what Great is[2]
Showing their color[3]
Have they heard?[4]
Have they been afraid?[5]
To what end?
Is this,
the Marathon we heralded[6]
Powerful emotions pulsating
through my veins
every breath a challenge
as I struggle in my chains
In the bleakness of a tunnel
far below the light of day
never knowing never speaking
slowly dying there I lay
Will they save me
from this nightmare
My name is Yoni, and I am an IDF soldier;
I’m to greet the four-year-old old hostage just released;
We’re told not to answer questions about parents;
I’m glad to have direction about what can and cannot be said;
It’s hard though I know both parents are dead
You can deny deny deny deny and deny
But I can never wash
What I saw out of my eyes
I am a teacher and mother of six
We live in the town of Kfar Aza
Before October 7, 2023
I was an ordinary Chevy pickup truck,
But after that day everything changed.
No one or thing will ever be the same.
This is my story: My owner is Moshe Sati.
He’s a devoted husband and father.