Remembering Gili
A Dvar Torah by my student, Gefen, offered on Shabbat Shira at Beth Israel in Waterville. Her words were offered in memory of her best friend, Gili, who was murdered on October 7th.
(Gefen frames her dvar Torah with the words of Shai Li Atari with her iconic song “With Us at Kindergarten.”)
Shabbat Shalom!
כי היום לא ארוך וניפגשים שוב מחר – Because the school day is not long, and they will meet again tomorrow
חוץ מאלה שפתאום לא חוזרים יותר לגן –Except for those who suddenly don't come back anymore to our kindergarten
אמרו לי שהם רק עברו דירה מעבר לענן – I was told they just moved to a different apartment beyond the clouds
One song that has recently regained popularity in Israel and especially resonates with me is Shaylee Atary’s אצלנו בגן (In Our Kindergarten). In fact, just like thousands of others, Shaylee and her family were under direct attack on October 7. On that dark day, before Shaylee and her husband Yahav even had a chance to react and seek refuge in their safe room, armed terrorists infiltrated their home. Yahav immediately instructed Shaylee to take their newborn baby and run. Mortified, she ran for her life, clinging tightly to her one-month-old daughter. Shoeless, phoneless, and without her much-needed cane, she raced through Kibbutz Kfar Aza, located on the Gazan border, and took cover in a garden shed. Ultimately, Shaylee made her way to a neighbor’s safe room and was rescued with her daughter 27 hours later.
Several days after, Shaylee, as a celebrity artist and a 10/7 survivor, was interviewed by UK’s Sky News. The interview was live, in real-time. As Shaylee narrated the unimaginable horrors of that day, viewers heard a phone ring in the background. Off screen, her mother answered followed by the shrill sounds of painful, deep, and sorrowful wails. In that moment, as Shaylee was being filmed, the devastating news that had, in an instant, become Shaylee’s reality was revealed to the world: Shaylee’s husband was shot point-blank in the head while trying to protect his fellow kibbutz members. She was now a very young widow with a newborn baby in a broken and stunned country that was about to retaliate fiercely in the name of its people.
The song אצלנו בגן was originally released by Shaylee in July 2014 during the then-war. Ten years later, its lyrics and sentiments remain just as poignant and relevant. Shaylee’s song tells the story of innocent and naive 5 and 6 year-old kindergarteners who are learning about friendship and love for the first time. They play in the sandbox, swing high above the treetops, and leave school each day happily because the school day is not long, and they will meet again tomorrow. Well, at least most of them will. Some, sadly, do not return the next day because they become the latest statistics of the war and have moved somewhere above the clouds.
The children in Shaylee’s 2014 song are just like those from 10/7 who also moved above the clouds and to the heavens. They are the most innocent victims, and, through her music, Shaylee beautifully weaves conflict, sorrow, and unimaginable loss in a powerful song that since October 7 has been re-produced and re-released by different artists. Her song, much like the story of the Israelites’ escape from slavery, is timeless. Despite the years, the values, lessons, and traditions taught through the Torah remain relevant and important today. Shaylee’s musical sentiments, a decade later, also remain on-point. Time has moved on, but the lessons we need to hear, the values by which we should live, and the sorrow that penetrates through our bodies and souls have not changed.
This week’s Parashat B'shalach (also known as Shabbat Shira, or the Shabbat of Song) is both ironically and perhaps quite appropriately about the power of song. In this parasha, after the children of Israel escape Pharaoh’s army and safely pass through the Red Sea, freedom is on their horizon, so Moses, Miriam (Moses’s sister), and the Israelites sing songs of praise to God; it is a very special biblical moment and also the first time a woman leads the People of Israel.
In this parasha, song and music united the Israelites in celebration, but now, today, and in the last few months, it is hard to celebrate anything. Our world is on hold; as a people we have paused. We are stuck in time, on October 112 to be exact, and so the meaning of this parasha falls on deaf ears. Tragedy is nothing new for the Jewish people. Before Parashat Shira and the exodus from Egypt, the Israelites were gravely mistreated by the Pharaoh's leadership; they were held captive, enslaved, and slaughtered. About 80 years ago, we endured the Holocaust where millions upon millions were annihilated, and, of course, there is October 7, a nightmare from which we are still waiting to wake up, a nightmare that has forever changed the landscape of our homeland, and a nightmare that has left a permanent scar in the hearts of my family and dearest friends, the Adars whose 24-year-old daughter Gili was murdered at the SuperNova concert.
Gili was by far the most positive and fearless person ever. While in high school and then again after completing her army service, she spread her love for Israel at American summer camps where she left an indelible mark on her campers, co-counselors, and host families. Then, last year, in Gili fashion, she took off to Central America with a backpack, some clothes, hiking boots, a bit of money, and zero plans. Her itinerary: to see the world, experience its glory, meet Israelis along the way, and return home when her funds ran out. She navigated this unknown part of the globe with poise and intelligence. She took nothing for granted.
Gili lived her best life and returned to Israel with countless pictures, memories, and great stories. My mom, sisters, and I had the honor of having dinner with Gili and her family in their home in Israel last summer; it would be our last time together with her. As she enthusiastically shared stories of her trip, we admired her confidence, sense of adventure, and super cool jewelry.
Orna, Gili’s mom, called her in Hebrew “Gili, chaim tovim,” which means Good Life Gili. She has inspired me to create the best of every situation. Her memory will remind me to savor the refreshing stream water between my toes, enjoy the light of the stars in the night sky, and feel the warmth of the sun’s rays. My heart is shattered, as Gili was taken way too early and way too violently from a world that she adored deeply.
But Gili’s life and the way Israelis and Jews around the world have united since October 7 is perhaps the most powerful message of all. In fact, one of the most meaningful ways Israelis have risen and endured this horrendous tragedy is through their resilience, much like Moses, Miriam, and the Israelites did in the parasha.
Before October 7, I was a study abroad student at Tel-Aviv University. When Hamas waged war on Israel, Tel-Aviv University was forced to urgently send all of its international students back to their home countries, and courses switched to zoom in our hometown living rooms. Following our departure, Tel-Aviv U offered a last-minute October 7th online lecture series, in which I immediately enrolled. Each lecture was led by different experts in Israeli politics, military, history, religion, and psychology, all in connection with October 7. Speakers included professors, lawyers, doctors, former Knesset members, and IDF leaders.
In one particular lecture, we unpacked the role of resilience in times of tragedy and learned how resilience serves as a protective shield against depression and anxiety. Much like post 9/11 here in the US, resilience and solidarity among Israelis increased significantly following 10/7, and their resilience manifested itself in many different ways. For example, my grandparents, who live in Israel for several months out of the year, recently traveled there with my mom to support the Adar family. They protested at the hostage center in Tel-Aviv, said a prayer by Gili’s gravesite, toured the site of the SuperNova massacre, and got a play-by-play by an IDF general of the October 7th events in an effort to retrace Gili’s final moments.
Their form of resilience was standing strong by the Adars’ side, holding them up as they crumbled, joining them at these meetings and events, and not giving up on uncovering Gili’s truth, which we may or may not ever know. In addition, while there, my grandparents were asked to welcome a lone soldier to stay in their apartment while not on duty; they did not think twice and immediately handed over the keys, because this is what resilience is; it's about coming together and supporting one another. It’s being strong for each other and literally opening our arms and homes to anybody. This is what resilience looks like in Israel in 2024, while in Exodus it surfaced through Moses’s moral and mental strength to resist opposition and put himself in danger for the sake of his people, just as so many of our young IDF soldiers are doing day after day after day.
From history, we, as Jews, know that we can rise from the ashes. We believe in the power of the human spirit and in resilience. When we overcome this current crisis, we will remain true to who we are— as is told in the stories of our ancestors -- and renew our faith in the goodness of humanity. Now is the time to embrace the guidance and hope of the Torah. As we are instructed in Parasha Shira, we WILL sing (and dance) again, and Gili, without a doubt, will be right here by my side.
If you’d like to convey feedback to Gefen, feel free to pass a note onto me at risaacs@colby.edu.
Outside Waterville:
UPCOMING: A CONVERSATION WITH RABBI ELLIOT COSGROVE OF PARK AVENUE SYNAGOGUE FOCUSED ON OUR PIECES IN SAPIR, AND NAVIGATING THE RABBINATE IN A POST OCTOBER 7TH WORLD. YOU CAN REGISTER FOR THE EVENT HERE. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 1,2024 AT 7:00 PM.
A thoughtful piece by Yehuda Kurtzer on the war published by The Forward. What impressed me the most was the extent to which he acknowledged what he did not and could not know. Refreshing.
An intriguing conversation between Andrew Sullivan and Jonathan Freedland (The Guardian) on Israel, antisemitism, and UK politics.