Day 408 Of The War: At Our Wits’ End.

In the past three days, I was every day at the dining room in the Families’ Headquarters. The atmosphere in the building was tense and dreary, and I heard from several people that  “we must brace ourselves for a long fight”. Of course, even in our worst nightmares, we never imagined that the hostages would still be in Gaza after 408 days.

Yesterday evening, in the dining room, we helped prepare for the hundreds of family members who, like every Saturday evening, were on their way to the main rally in the Hostages Circus. Beforehand, they often gather in their special room at Beit Ariela (the main library of Tel Aviv, located in the plaza), where they rest and spend time during their visits. Many of them travel from faraway places, and this has become their home away from home; sadly, many of them have also lost their homes.

The rally, moderated by Zohar Avigdor—the brother of Hen, whose wife and daughter were kidnapped by Hamas on October 7 and returned after 50 days—was deeply emotional. Zohar, like so many family members, dedicates all his time and energy to the struggle to bring the hostages back. Last night held particular significance, as it was dedicated to the International Day of the Child, marked worldwide on November 20th.

In his speech, Zohar spoke about the children still in captivity, the children whose fathers are held in Gaza, and the parents whose two adult sons are still hostages. Throughout the event, we heard heartbreaking testimonies. Avital Dekel Chen, the mother of three daughters—including a baby born after her father, Sagi, was kidnapped—shared her story. She spoke of taking her daughters out for a day of fun and how her eldest daughter (7) saw a small chair in a store, and wanted to buy it for future rallies. She also shared how her three-year-old keeps singing, “Bring them home now.” These simple stories brought the families’ impossible reality and their unbearable day-to-day lives painfully close to home.

It was heartbreaking to witness how much the family members longed to trust the government, to believe it would do everything possible to bring their loved ones home. Yet, time after time, promises have been broken, and  hopes are shattered. We are truly at our wits’ end.

Last week, I went to see the blooming of the Sternbergia in the Negev. The dramatic yellow flowers emerging from the desert, amidst rock and dust, without any warning or preparation, reminded me of the hostages and the yellow flags symbolizing their captivity. These days, it feels impossible to see beauty without thinking of the hostages, but with the yellow flowers, the connection was inescapable.