A Cradle of Grief: Mourning Ravid Haim while Fighting for the Living
Today we buried Ravid Haim Gez z”l, a baby only 15 days old.
A child who never breathed the scent of his mother.
A child who never gazed into his mother’s eyes or felt the warmth of her arms.
Ravid Haim z”l will never know the embrace of his three brothers, the joy of childhood and the sound of laughter.
Ravid Haim was marked for death before he even took his first breath, targeted by a terrorist whose hatred knew no bounds.
Yet in his short time in this world, he felt the fierce love of the entire Jewish nation and his father, Hananel, who, summoning unimaginable strength, cradled his wounded son and whispered a final prayer.
Today, Ravid Haim was laid to rest beside his mother, Zeela z”l.
At their graves, Hananel said, through pain no human should ever know:
“No one will break us.”
What faith. What courage. What defiance in the face of inhumanity.
We are living in a world where babies are murdered, their stories flicker through the headlines -and then silence.
Dark and bitter silence.
Ravid Haim joins the names we say through tears: Ariel and Kfir Bibas and countless other children, innocent, beloved, lives stolen by sadists and monsters.
Amy, my colleague and friend, said to me today, “Jewish life was cheap in Russia, in Europe.”
And we both know the truth:
It still is.
Yes, we have a state. Yes, miracles shield us when missiles from Gaza, the Houthis, or Iran land in empty fields and not on crowded terminals.
But has anything truly changed? Or are we still walking the same haunted path?
She asked me, “Why does the world hate us?”
I answered: Because we are different. Because we endure.
Then I thought: Because radical hatred cannot tolerate those who choose life, who hold faith, who love fiercely despite centuries of loss.
You cannot negotiate with evil that sees your very existence as a threat.
We spoke about the hostages – 600 days in hell.
Now, every surviving soul is a humanitarian case.
Yet, Hamas still holds the power to decide who lives and who dies.
Parents of the hostages are forced to plead, to prove their child’s suffering, just to be considered.
But Israel is not in control.
Not yet.
How much more suffering must there be before the world dares to stop looking away?
May Ravid Haim’s memory and the memory of every murdered child burn in our hearts forever.
May all our hostages come home – quickly, safely, alive.
No one will break us.
