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Blessed Are The Cheese Makers

One of the most common responses I get when I say (or write) something highlighting the horror occuring in Gaza right now is:

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE HOSTAGES???

As if, my heart breaking for the families trapped in Gaza somehow means that I have forgotten about the 101 hostages that are still held captive. 

So for the record, I have thought about the hostages for more than 400 days and absorb videos from their families and loved ones as they become available on YouTube. 

For the first 54 days it felt as if I couldn’t breathe, as my friend’s son was trapped in a tunnel. Once he was released, I could at least exhale somewhat, but the plight of the rest of the hostages has stayed at the forefront of my heart. 

But my heart is big enough to hold the families in Gaza in that same space. 

It actually boggles my mind that this duality seems to be so rare. 

That it has to be one or the other. 

I get told over and over again that if I still lived in Israel I would feel differently. That it’s only from the distance and comfort of living in Australia that I can speak up for the people in Gaza.

Thing is, I know lots of people in Israel who share my values…and there are plenty of people far away, right here in Melbourne, who only care about the hostages. 

I really don’t believe it’s got anything to do with location whatsoever.  

Thankfully a friend of mine in Jerusalem forwarded an article to me about someone who has no distance between himself and the horrific situation that is happening.

The article is about a man called Yuval Or. Which translates to Yuval Light. A very apt name. I honestly feel as if Yuval brings much needed light into this very dark chapter of history. 

Up until now, I haven’t heard much about Yuval. I have seen photos of him in various articles about October 7th. But this was the first time I was able to read about his perspective. 

Yuval is the grandfather of my friend’s son. 

Yuval had three grandchildren kidnapped into Gaza.

Initially everyone thought that his son Dror and Dror’s wife Yonat were also kidnapped. 

Within a few days Yonat’s body was identified as being killed on her kibbutz. 

A wonderful woman, a daughter, a mother, a wife…and a furniture designer, gone. 

It was months later that we received the devastating news that Yuval’s son, Dror, had also been killed, and was not alive and held hostage in Gaza as we had believed all this time. 

Dror, a wonderful man, a son, a father, a husband, a yoga instructor….and a cheese maker, gone. 

Yuval has every reason to rage with hatred and seek revenge for his family being smashed into a million pieces. 

I anticipated finding the article my friend forwarded challenging to read.

Instead, the words were brimming with wisdom that transcends understanding. 

Here is a father and grandfather living through hell, and he says:

Hamas did the worst to me, and still, I’m one of the people who think that plans for revenge and the flattening of Gaza is to put out fire with oil. The only way forward, is to sit down and talk and find a way to make peace with our enemies. 

Wow. 

Just wow. 

There’s really not much more to add to this…except to say Amen. 

No more parents should have to bury their children in the sand of the “Holy Land.”

https://www.haaretz.co.il/news/politics/kolkore/2024-11-13/ty-article/00000193-21c3-d76b-afd7-a3d349710000