"I Don't Want This Day to End" & "I Just Want Them To Believe"
The words of a little boy & a captivity survivor
I do this Substack because I want to share with you voices from Israel you won’t likely hear otherwise. Voices the English media doesn’t share.
But maybe I also do this as a bit of therapy for me— to remind myself what is true despite the headlines.
So today I share with you a post from Orit Mark Ettinger. Orit, who lost her father Miki in a terrorist attack, her older brother Shlomi in an accident on his way to work for the Mossad, her cousin Elchanan Kalmanson— who she says was like a second father to her— on October 7th as he and his brother went of their own accord to fight in Kibbutz Be’eri, saving over a hundred people before he was killed, and her younger brother Pedayah who fell in battle this war. Four family members lost.
And yet- this is what Orit has to say about a day at the beach with her son:
“The conversation with Tzur that brought tears to my eyes
And this time, not tears of sadness...
‘We'll go home, have dinner, shower and sleep,’ I said, explaining the schedule for the rest of the day.
‘I don't want to!!’ He told me stubbornly.
‘Why, my love?’
‘I don't want to eat dinner!’ He said and looked out the window and immediately said ‘Look, there's a train!!’ (Attention deficit problems from me)
‘That's right, there's a train! But my love, why don't you want dinner?’ I tried to understand what was behind it.
‘Because then there will be dinner, shower and sleep - and I don't want this day to end!’
Read that again.
Something happened there in my heart, I can't explain how deeply it touched the capillaries of my soul.
First of all, I'm proud of him for expressing himself like this and knowing what he wants. But beyond that - in essence, my child was saying he doesn't want to go to bed because he doesn't want the day to end - because it's a good day for him!
I'll take you back a little to understand my feelings. After Shlomi was killed I didn't know what it would be like to bring children into this painful world - after all, my father wouldn't know my son, and Shlomi wouldn't know my son, and what kind of life is that?!
Then Tzur was born, melting every corner of my heart.
Tzur lives in a reality where about 20 percent of our conversations (maybe more) are about the dead, about our loved ones who are no longer here. When do they come back, how are they in heaven - ‘Do they have a bicycle and a tzitzit too?’ Or an innocent question of ‘Wait, how did Pedayah even get to heaven?’
And I keep telling myself, and this is also all I lecture and educate about - that reality exists and we are the ones who give it an interpretation and choose how to live it.
And suddenly to hear my child, who lives a truly complex reality, and experienced himself the loss of Elchanan and Pedayah, two people he would meet every week! With a father in the reserves(!!!), moving aparments and our whole reality full of sad memorials...
And with this as his routine- he doesn't want to go to sleep because— he's good!
I write with tears in my eyes.
My child, who every evening tells of a moment of gratitude, who wipes my tears when I miss them, who stops every soldier who passes by (he chases them) ‘Soldiers, our champions, thank you very much’, and who knows that the pictures of the soldiers hanging on the street mean that this is a soldier who was killed. This child who compliments people on the street and sings the song ‘A Moment of Gratitude’, word for word, said he doesn't want to sleep- because he doesn't want the day to end.
And he even told me last week ‘Mom, don't we have a fun day every day?!’
Thank you!
Thank you, Lord of the Universe, for giving me the strength not only to get up and survive, but to get up and live, and to love and educate my child to cherish gratitude. To understand how much we have no idea what tomorrow will be- so every day we live life and have a ‘fun day’.
Thank you for this child who brings me life!
Omer Shem Tov, who spent 505 days in Hamas captivity, with words that don’t need any introduction: