* Translation by Yehoshua Siskin ([email protected])
1.
This past Shabbat morning there was a brit milah for the son of Yedidya Eliyahu HY”D, who fell in Gaza four months ago. No words can describe the atmosphere in the event hall where the brit took place. A connection between joy and sorrow, between a new life and a life that was missing, between heaven and earth, between this world and the next.
The grandfather, Rabbi Yoram Eliyahu, was the sandak (godfather), the one who held the baby during the brit. In the father’s absence, he blessed the boy: “Who sanctified us with his commandments and commanded us to enter him into the Covenant of Avraham our father.” Meitar, the mother, blessed “Sh’hechiyanu” and “Hagomel” over the brit and the safe delivery. The mohel asked those assembled to pray. “These are holy moments,” he remarked. When there are no words to express what we feel, our prayers pierce the heavens — prayers for the baby, for his mother, for the soldiers and the wounded and the hostages, prayers for everyone and everything.
And his name in Israel shall be called: Porat Avia.
I previously wrote how Yedidya Eliyahu HY”D would answer when asked “How are you?” “Living the dream,” he would answer. When I was leaving after the brit, Ziva Eliyahu, his mother, told me with eyes full of tears, but with a smile: “We will continue to live the dream, but differently.”
2.
Sensitive to loss, looking forward to joyful occasions
It happened on Shabbat morning. It was one of many emotional outpourings I have witnessed over the past few months, yet it uniquely grabbed my attention. The eyes of Shlomi Cohen were red and full of tears. I know him as a young and energetic photographer. Since the start of the war, he has accompanied Shai Graucher and The Israel Forever Foundation in fulfilling their mission through acts of lovingkindness — by attending funerals, comforting mourners, and visiting amputees and other wounded soldiers in rehabilitation centers. Shlomi always finds the right angle at which to position his lens so as to capture the moment in the most meaningful way.
On Shabbat morning we were at the brit of the son of Yedidya Eliyahu, who fell in Gaza four months ago.
Shlomi was present at this inspirational event, but because of the holiness of Shabbat, he was not holding a camera. For once, he had an experience that would not be documented with a photograph. Yet, as he told me, it was also the first event he attended where he cried.
May we be sensitive to the loss around us but, from now on, may we experience, with God’s help, joyful occasions exclusively, and hear only good news.
