Again, we're hearing about a stabbing attack. And again about a terrorist who broke into a settlement, and about people dead and injured. And everything brings me back to that same cursed Friday when we heard via a news app about a terrorist stabbing in Halamish and a terrorist who had entered a family's home and critically wounded three people and seriously wounded a fourth. And we saw the picture taken next to our parents' house. And we started calling and asking what happened. And no one answered. … Then we got hold of Michal, who gave us the horrible news about our family. And it all takes us back to a year ago, and what we've been through since – the heartbreak, the tears that still haven't stopped, the mother who has been left on her own without a husband, and Michal, who is raising her children alone without Elad, and Shmuel, who is still trying to rehabilitate himself and not succeeding.
And I start thinking about what lies ahead for the newest additions to the family of mourning, the small children who lost their father and the woman who will be raising them alone. I'm angry, too. I'm angry that we haven't sufficiently deterred the terrorists who still think about attacking us. I'm angry that the terrorist's home still hasn't been demolished. I'm angry that it happened again, and I'm angry on behalf of the residents, who weren't protected enough. It's inconceivable and infuriating to hear that the damn terrorist set out from the same village as the terrorist who murdered my family!
Even then, we were terrified to hear that the terrorist had left his village with the intent of entering Halamish and killing Jews. And we were terrified to hear that his family knew about it and did nothing to stop him. We were terrified to hear that only one floor of their home was demolished, and that they are trying to rebuild it, and what terrified us most of all was that the terrorist gets money from the Palestinian Authority for the loathsome murder. Then we hear that another terrorist set out from that same place, showing us the value they place on continuing to murder and that sadly, the same thing will happen to another family somewhere else.
I'm sad, too. I'm sad to hear about murderers who keep attacking us because our country doesn't do enough to deter them from it and show them that it is not in their best interest. And I'm sad because we lost the three people dearest to us, who have been taken and won't return. I don't want to think that it was all for nothing.
This week, we celebrated the bar mitzvah of Elyashiv, my sister Rachel's son. We rejoiced and cried and never forgot for a moment the people who weren't there – Dad, who would have been moved and happy, my sister Chaya who loved her nieces and nephews so much and would certainly have been happy, and Elad, who would have enjoyed himself with the kids.
So I want to tell anyone who is trying to attack us and only understands violence – it won't break us. We will carry on in our loved ones' path; we'll keep rejoicing and making others happy. May their memory be a blessing.
