OpEd: How Can We Find the Words?

By Ilanit Zakowski

LOS ANGELES — It did not take long to figure out what to write about. In fact, I could have written six of these articles. Six beautiful souls taken from us way too soon. So brutally. And the world is silent once again.

I turned on my phone when Shabbat ended to rumors that six Jewish bodies may have been found by our chayalim (lone soldiers) in a tunnel in Rafah. It is only rumors for now, I thought to myself. It’s being investigated, no one should be sharing any information until details are confirmed by the IDF.  I was lucky that I fell asleep before the news was confirmed. I woke up Sunday morning to hear the same things. But this time it wasn’t just rumors. It was factual. Six Israeli hostages kept in a dungeon of hell for 11 months were killed shortly before Israeli soldiers approached the vicinity in an attempt to rescue them. They were confined only about a kilometer from where Kaid Farhan Al-Qadi, 52, a Bedouin Israeli, heroically rescued about a week earlier, was kept.

This news was all so hard to wrap my head around. Hersh Polin-Goldberg and his family had become the symbol of hope and courage in the fight to bring the hostages home. We were all sure he’d be traded for some kind of hostage deal and be returned home safely. We were all waiting for that day to come. His mom was counting down for it, numbering the days of his captivity on her shirt every single day since October 7. How can they have killed him?

But this was it. This was the fate Hashem had decided for them. We couldn’t change anything. We would just have to mourn and pray together and share in the pain of the bereaved families. I tuned into the livestream of some of the funerals. I knew how painful it would be to watch, seeing the images of parents and widows who had once been filled with a longing hope, now crying over their murdered children’s bodies.

Hersh’s funeral was scheduled to be the last funeral of the six, taking place Monday afternoon. Shortly before, I said to my husband “What else is there to say? Hersh’s parents, Rachel and Jon have changed their lives for this cause and dedicated the past 332 days to advocating on their son’s behalf. What could they possibly say now after any bit of soul or life that remained within them has been crushed?” Even Chris Cuomo, American television journalist began his recent segment stating “I’m not really sure what to say,” confiding that he spent his whole Labor Day weekend “laboring” over needing to explain to the world how the murder of these six hostages actually should matter to them.

Rachel, our modern-day matriarch, somehow did find the words. Anyone with half a heart had to have been crushed by her final words of goodbye to Hersh: “Ok, sweet boy. Go now on your journey. I hope it’s as good as the trips you dreamed about because finally my sweet boy, finally, finally, finally, finally, you’re free. I will love you and will miss you every single day for the rest of my life.”

When looking back at the many videos of Rachel these past 11 months, there is a clear sense of hope and optimism in her eyes. She prayed, begged, brought her spirit for life and her belief in the good of humankind to everywhere she went. She used her entire being and any power she had to inspire others and fill us with a sense of hope too, that one day, Hersh would return. But he returned as another murdered Jew, after enduring torture for 11 months, only to be executed when he was close to being saved. I couldn’t help but feel we have gone back in time. Are we in the Middle Ages? How is the spewing of pure hate and pure evil and physical torture and murder of Jews okay? How can people possibly justify this? Where do we go from here? And most of all, how do we move on and regain hope? We still have hostages that need to be freed. It is still Oct. 7.

And then I realized that is my answer- we may not be living during the Middle Ages, the crusades or Holocaust but this is the continuation of our story, the story of the Jewish people. It’s one of strength, but suffering. One of belief, but hardship. One of wandering, but survival. We are like no one else. It is hard — it has always been — but we will survive. Just as we always have. That’s what makes us the people we are. That is what Rachel asked of Hersh as she departed from him. This time around, instead of telling him to be strong and survive, she asked him to now help his family maintain strength and survive without him.

To Rachel and all the other families in mourning: you taught us to have hope. And we will continue to have hope- Od Lo Avda Tikvateinu. We will continue to believe Hashem loves us as his cherished people and entrusted us with this very hard, but worthwhile mission. And we know better days are coming. May it be speedily in our time!

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Ilanit Zakowski is a Jewish educator, teaching and touching the lives of children of various ages in the greater LA area. She is also an English as a second language teacher and taught English to Israeli children during the many years she lived in Israel.