A nation united in grief: No words can heal our aching hearts

“The trees are so heavy, the branches sag with fruit. ‘Tis the hour when children slumber, when the lamb goes home to its mother, lies down in the pen, and falls asleep. And the mother sheep kisses it, and calls it by its name.” 

Today, an entire country and people are gripped by grief and mourning, pain and tears. It’s a moment when two little lambs – golden babes – are finally coming home to their mother, home to us. And we, all of us, an entire brokenhearted nation, accompany them to their final resting place.

God knows this is not the homecoming we prayed for. This is not the moment we anticipated or the end we had hoped for. We imagined them coming back, their golden heads shining, their sweet, inquisitive little faces lighting up our world. And Mama Shiri, in her astonishing courage, still shielding them beneath her wings, protecting them from harm, just as she did back then, against the diabolical evil they faced at such a tender age.

That image of Shiri, her eyes wide with terror, carrying her two dazzling babies, making her way through a gauntlet of rifle butts and savages, is seared into our souls forever. It is an image that simultaneously holds the purest light, the most sublime and noble love, inconceivably juxtaposed with the most terrifying, unadulterated evil. It is an image that captures just one blink of an eye, just one moment, and that tells the whole story of the tragedy of October 7th, Simchat Torah. The essence of goodness versus the depravity of murder. And how immense this rupture is for us.

The lullaby we carry in our hearts today is an eternal lullaby, as dear, sweet Kfir and Ariel are delivered to their eternal rest together with their magnificent mother, Shiri. If there is still mercy in this world, let the beautiful faces of Shiri, Ariel, and Kfir be a heart-piercing cry; let them resonate through the four corners of the earth, let them reverberate to the ends of the world, and let them awaken hearts that have hardened, that have lost touch with their sense of justice, that have been closed. Look at us, world. Today, we are burying the sweetest and purest of your children. Open your hearts and add your voices to the tears that a broken nation cries today.

Beloved Shiri, Kfir, and Ariel. Know that from the day you were torn from us, we never stopped praying, waiting, crying, hoping against hope, that you would come back to us, alive. That along with brave Yarden, who came back to us so recently from the valley of the shadow of death, you, too, would return to your beautiful, warm home. Here, now, there are no words that can heal our aching hearts. We refuse to be comforted.

Dear Yarden and dear Bibas, Silverman and Sitton families: We are all crying with you. We are all embracing you. We are all broken alongside you. As the president of the State of Israel, on behalf of the State of Israel, I ask for your forgiveness. Forgiveness for not fulfilling our duty. Forgiveness for not protecting your loved ones on that dark day. Forgiveness for not saving them, for not getting them home safely.

In this broken hour, I want to quote the words of Ohad Ben Ami, who after coming back from the horrors of captivity said this to me: “As soon as we knew that people were fighting for us, that people wanted us back, it gave us strength, and lifted our spirits… There were six of us in a six square meter (65 square feet) space. All together. Secular and religious, soldiers and civilians. We were in horrific conditions, 30 meters (100 feet) underground, but we were together. That’s what we’re made of.”

Talk of unity does not always find its way into people’s hearts. But hearing Ohad, who came back from an unimaginable hell, talking about our unity as something with the power to save lives – that’s not an empty slogan. It is a decree with sacred and compelling resonance for all of us.

The living, beating and beautiful heart of our people, which revealed itself this year in all its glory, holds many voices; and all of us, every last part of this nation, must now look the pictures of Shiri, Kfir, and Ariel in the eye, and vow to hold on tight, together.

Together, a united and brokenhearted nation, we accompany Kfir, Ariel, and Mama Shiri, to eternal rest, while splitting the heavens with our prayer: May their beloved, pure souls be bound in the bonds of eternal life; and may we merit the speedy return of all of the hostages. Every last one of them.