Eulogy
by Rav David Moriah, who was Esther’s
teacher in 10th grade in Neve Chana: (Translated)
Esther,
we stood today at the site of the murder. We prayed and said the
dreadful psalm 94:
“O
G-d of vengeance, Hashem,
O G-d of vengeance, appear!
Arise, O Judge of the earth,
Render recompense to the haughty.
How long shall the wicked – O Hashem –
How long shall the wicked exult?
…Your nation, Hashem, they crush,
and they afflict Your heritage.
The widow and the orphans they murder.
And they say, “Yah will not see,
Nor will the G-d of Jacob understand.”
…They organize themselves against the soul of righteous,
and the blood of the innocent they condemn…
He turned upon them their own violence,
and with their own evil He will cut them off,
Hashem, our G-d, will cut them off.”
Esther,
I apologize for speaking to you in the presence of so many people. I
know how your modest and introverted character would have hated someone
speaking about you, especially with such a crowd. But it is because of
your
quiet personality and because you always fled from the shine of the
floodlights, that many people are not understanding the size of the
tragedy, and how enormous the loss is. I had the tremendous zchut
to be your high school teacher for a year. It’s not so much time, but
it was enough to realize your qualities.
I
once announced in class that the sh’at mechanech would be used
to make up some material that we didn’t finish. The class decided not
to give away the period. When I got to the class I found it empty
(everyone went somewhere else and one of the girls gave a pe’ula).
I went back to the teacher’s room.
The
next day I found an anonymous letter that later I found out was from
you.
“I don’t know what exactly to say about what happened during
that period. I agreed to what we decided to do in class, but now I think
that if my chanichot
would have done the same thing I would go crazy. So that’s it, I think
that we owe you an apology… we didn’t mean to insult – I hope you
didn’t take it too hard.
–
Someone (who thinks that others think so
too)”
You were always so
sensitive to what others feel, and G-d forbid not to hurt them. You
were so good that I don’t believe there is one friend of yours here
that came to escort you to your final resting place that would say you
hurt them. You were such a good friend to the girls in the class who
were socially weaker.
I remember we spoke about a shlichut
you went to, and as someone returning from a shlichut
I identified with your
descriptions.
Esther,
today we know that all of your short life was a mission. This was
apparent in all your deeds, and every time you made a peula for your chanichot
in Ezra. You volunteered for a whole year with an autistic boy. When I
asked you to sum up that work, you said it in one word: ‘Fun.’ Your
fun was to give.
Everyone who knows you
realizes how much effort and devotion you invested in sherut
leumi. You never lost hope
and you never gave up. How desperately we need that quality of yours
today.
I so badly want to promise
you that we did everything we can to prevent this murder, but I can’t.
Yesterday after the murder of Gilad Zar we decided to block the road as
a furious reaction to the murder. We discussed whether to do it in the
early afternoon with anyone who could make it, or to delay it to 16:30
and try to get more people. In the end, we decided to do it in the late
afternoon, but for you it was already too late. The road was blocked
because of your murder.
What a pity it is that we
are so thoughtful and we don’t have any spontaneous fury or a basic
understanding of our right for security. I am sure that the only thing
that is bothering you now is not your short life, since you took
advantage of every moment. I’m sure you’re crying up there, Esther,
but not for yourself. Your life was so concentrated, and you utilized
every second to do lots of good. You are crying for your parents and
your brother – they truly did not deserve this.
You are hurting for your
parents who lost this treasure that is called Esther. This is no
consolation, but you, Esther, are the terrible price that we must pay
for our blindness. What we need is surgery for the removal of blindness.
Your
death shouts Esther’s call to Mordechai “Go, assemble all the
Jews.” Unite, open your eyes! Do not continue being scattered and
divided, or being busy with your own feasts. Open your eyes before you
reach the bottomless pit, before the floor collapses on us. If
we wake up and open our eyes before it is too late, then your painful
death will prevent many others.
Esther knew how cruel the
enemy is and understood that we were “decreed to destroy, to slay and
to exterminate,” and gave her soul “And if I perish, I perish… for
how can I bear to witness the disaster which will befall my people? How
can I bear to witness the destruction of my homeland?”
“On
the third day, Esther donned royalty” – you wear with majesty the
dress that is stained with blood, and fearlessly presented yourself to
the King of the World who cannot refuse your request.
Esther, I remember the song
that we sang on Yom Hazikaron in Efrat, and
which we heard in our heads a lot:
We
are all one living tissue,
and if one of us
leaves our nation,
something dies in us,
something stays with you.
Yehi
Zicrech Baruch
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