Light in The Times of Darkness

“I don’t want to die, I am too young!” screamed ten year old Ma’ayan, as the strong sea current pulled her and her mom farther and farther from shore.

They had been swimming at the beach at a time when no life guard was present but the water was just the perfect temperature and Ma’ayan did not want to get out. She loved being in the water! As a matter of fact, her name means “spring of water” and she embodied that name.

My friend Lena was telling me this story of Ma’ayan as we sat in the backyard she created – a tranquil place with beautiful gardens and sculptures.

“I keep telling myself that I will quit smoking, – she said to me, – but I am not ready yet.” Our conversation took place earlier this summer when I visited her while attending the Hartman seminar in Israel.

She continued with her story: “The current kept pulling us back and we were panicking. It was so scary! But I was determined to survive! I shouted to Ma’ayan – “you must keep on swimming!” And then just when both of us lost hope, the current finally changed and we were thrown onto the rocks.

“I never felt death so close” – Lena said to me.

When Ma’ayan was finally safely on land, she turned her fear into anger. She was mad at the sea! She screamed and cursed at it and said she will never step foot in the water ever again.

And yet she overcame that fear, partially because she wanted to prove that she could be tougher and stronger than the water that wanted to kill her. Little by little, she got back to her love of swimming.

As she grew to become a teenager, she enjoyed all sorts of water sports like water gliding, surfing, and diving, seeking out and traveling to places where these activities would be even more exciting and challenging.

Lena, on the other hand, would not even venture near the shore for a very long time. She had no interest in swimming in the pool, let alone unpredictable Mediterranean Sea. She was in awe of her daughter who had completely conquered her fear.

And then October 7 happened.

Ma’ayan had just returned from the family trip to Italy. Her friend invited her to come to this amazing event – a music festival similar to that of the Burning Man – in the Negev. Ma’ayan told her mom that she really did not want to go – it wasn’t really her type of hangout – but she didn’t want to disappoint her friend. And so she set out to attend an event that has now became a symbol of one of the worst massacre scenes in the history of all humanity – the Nova festival.

Ma’ayan was killed shortly after she called her parents to tell them that there are rockets and to assure her dad, Gadi, that he should stay calm because there was a police presence and it felt safe . (We now know that these ‘policemen’ were Hamas terrorists).

Luckily, she was killed with one shot. I say luckily because we know the horrific alternative other women faced! Luckily – how strange it seems to use that word when describing untimely and horrible death of a young, beautiful, talented, strong and full of life woman!

“We are happy that it was quick. That’s how I imagined it; it’s what I would hope for in this unimaginable circumstance” – said Lena, echoing my use of the word ‘lucky.”.

There were a couple of days of hope that maybe, somehow, miraculously, Ma’ayan survived. But that expectation ended when they received a call that her body had been found next to the body of her friend Yonatan.

First, there was despair, then numbness. Somehow Lena, Gadi and Eytan – Ma’ayan’s older brother – managed to get through the routine of the coming days.

“We didn’t want to be part of the grief groups.” said Lena and Gadi. “Not even connecting with the family of the boy who was killed with Ma’ayan. It’s a strange feeling.”

Instead, Lena started going to the pool for exercise as a therapy which was offered to grieving parents. Little by little she felt it released her tension and she felt that slowly the root of life started sprouting in her. At the same time, she felt guilty for allowing herself to enjoy those brief moments of pleasure. “How can I feel good when I am supposed to grieve ?” – she kept asking herself.

At first the aquatic therapy caused her to cry but gradually it started to have a calming effect. Eventually, Lena decided to learn how to swim using the crawl style. She gained her confidence and became so proficient that on September 21 she participated in the annual event called Tzlichat HaKineret- swimming across Lake Kineret (known as Sea of Galilee). This year it marked 70 years since the start of thistradition.

While Lena and I were talking, her husband Gadi joined us in the garden as well. He shared with me how he was able to cope with his grief.“I always wanted to do this since I was a child.” said Gadi. “Then I registered for the school for artists but I never found the time to attend. Eventually, I suggested to Manchuki (the endearing name everyone in the family called Ma’Ayan) to try her talents. She used to draw – and somehow, all the characters she created came alive.

Gadi continued: When I was in IDF, I learned academic drawing and wanted to be an artist but I ended up becoming a dentist.

I wanted Manchuki to develop her artistic talent. She started at the art school but I was not convinced it would become a priority for her because she had so many hobbies and interests, many of which didn’t last. She tried acting (we were sure she would be an actress), she filmed movies, sang, even tried to join the circus. She was multi-talented and she was always very energetic and passionate.”

Ma’ayan followed her father’s advice and ended up in the same school for animation he wanted to attend. She enjoyed the atmosphere of the school. Her family – Lena, Gadi and Eytan – were her biggest cheerleaders!

She became so good that one of her animations was chosen to be displayed at the world renowned festival, Animix ,in Tel Aviv.

When her family sat shivah for Manchuki (a traditional seven days of mourning in Judaism), all her friends and teachers from the school came to visit, including the director. While speaking with the family, the director suggested that Gadi consider joining ethe school.

And so he did! All his professors were the same ones that had taught Ma’ayan, so each lesson began with remembering her and sharing stories about her. Both the fellow students and the professors surrounded Gadi with their love.

Gadi would bring piles of papers with little characters or scenes that he had drawn and Lena happily helped him to organize them. Their son Eytan also became involved in this process.

Now there is a whole wall on the third floor of the school, devoted to Ma’ayan with displays of her drawings as well as the students ’drawings about her.

There is also a screen that continuously shows her short movies. Gadi told me that when he goes to school, it feels like he is visiting his daughter. Recently, Gadi received an assignment to create a short animation based on one of life’s memories. Students had to choose a partner to work together. Gadi’s partner was an eighteen year old Maya (three years junior his own daughter). It was Maya herself who suggested she would work with 62 year old Gadi on the project.

The memory which Gadi decided to incorporate in this project was the last phone call that his daughter made to him on October 7. The memory of that phone call was like an open and raw wound on his heart and yet he decided to turn it into something beautiful.

He and Maya worked on this project for two and a half months. Gadi invested in special equipment so they could work at home. They spent hours drawing, glueing, cutting. Again, Lena and Eytan would help from time to time.like Ma’ayan was next to me. There is a fourth scene in this short movie that shows the sand and Ma’ayan is on the other side speaking into the phone. I created that scene because we can’t go to the actual place. Many parents want to go to the site of Nova – but we can’t. It is very hard. Yet I wanted to feel that I was with her and this movie gave me comfort and I now have the sense of being with her. That helped me to close the circle.”

My friend Lena was always a very creative and talented person as well. One of her first jobs when she arrived in Israel was to create flower arrangements. They were all picturesque. Now she used that skill to create a beautiful miniature garden at her daughter’s burial site. She has even included a small stream of water – ma’ayan. On her headstone it reads, ‘our sunlight” because that is who Ma’ayan was. She shed light on anything or anyone she encountered . She was a force of nature, full of life. Most significantly, she was kind to people and intuitively understood their needs as she reached out to help them.

One time, when she was a little girl, she saw an old lady sitting at a bus stop. The lady looked sad. Ma’ayan went up to her and said: “I know it’s not easy but everything passes and things will be ok.” Imagine this observation and words of wisdom – from just a little child.

She could be gentle and affectionate but with her inner strength she could be like a stormy sea that could swoosh you under its waters .at any moment.

On October 2 Jews around the world will begin to celebrate Rosh Hashanah, a Jewish New Year. This is also a period of time when we reflect on our lives and ask God to inscribe us in the Book of Life. Life is associated with light. On Rosh Hashanah we read the story of creation. On the first day, we read, God created heavens and earth but it was “tohu va vohu” – which means that the earth was astonishingly empty, darkness was on the face of the deep, and the spirit of God was hovering over the face of the water. As it is written in Genesis 1:2-3, God said, ”Let there be light and there was light.” And so on the first day of creation, God separated the light and the darkness.

That is exactly how I felt, when visiting with the Kalihman family. I appreciated that they were able to separate the light from their darkness. They chose to continue to live- for the life is sacred in Judaism. They found the strength, not only to carry on and support each other, but by their example to teach others that light will prevail. They demonstrate every day that in the face of the unspeakable tragedy they were able to lean on each other. When I spent time with them, I felt the incredible love and care and warmth with which they treat each other as well as how they treat others.

And one more final word – remember Ma’ayan’s friend who too was killed? His mother used to work in a bakery but after the tragedy, she decided to become a flight attended. One day she said to Lena, “When I am in the sky – I can feel our children.”