The kids came back. That's all there was to murmur. Are they on the list? Are they not on the list? They will be back. Check that it's not fake. They must be on the list. They have to come back. We have to have them come back. They will be back. They come back. They came back.
Our family is usually very verbal. Really. In normal times - if anyone still remembers what this term means - very verbal. They read poetry, write rhymed greetings, and the quarrels are also incredibly stylish. Everyone talks at length and everyone "murmurs words in their ear," as Dori Ben Ze'ev once sang. But in those days everything was reduced to pairs of words and single words. Shortness of breath. They will be back. Recurring. They came back. Praise God.
Erez Calderon with his sister Sahar, Photo: Private
For two months now, the lack of words has thrown us into the arms of old songs and even older verses. To the Israeli soundtrack and the Jewish "Dinkota version". When there's nothing to say, we try to lean on some good quote. And suddenly every song becomes loaded with meaning. Every line, every verse and every word is rediscovered, and they are charged and relevant as if they were written for this moment that there is no way to name.
Ever since we finally saw the faces of the Nir Oz boys, including our Sahar and Erez, I have been reciting in the opening heart of the chapter of Psalms that we read every day since Passover. "Thank God because it is good because His grace is everlasting. They will say the redemption of the Lord, who redeemed him at once is narrow."
So many times I rolled over these solemn and old words, as a child, as a boy and as a father, and never had time to think about how redemption was really supposed to feel. What does a person who regained his life feel and say after being in a narrow hand? After his loved ones had spent days, weeks or months, in a place where their lives were not worth a penny. And suddenly comes a hug. Which is the opposite of a "narrow hand." So I guess that's what they say. Thank God that it is good. For His grace is everlasting.
And although in this squishy family I'm almost the only person who prays and feels at home among ancient verses, that's exactly what Hadas said after she was informed that they were on the list, and after she finished roaring like a lioness who had just saved her cubs from the teeth of hyenas. After extending her arms to the sky, which I think have recently lengthened by about 10 centimeters, she said, "There is a God." Which is "Thank God because it is good," the updated version.
And that, too, we will be asked to talk about. About our God and their God. About different beliefs and different believers. One wise man recently wrote that a fake diamond is not a kind of diamond, but a kind of fake. Religious extremism, he added, is not a form of religiosity but a form of extremism Religious violence is not a form of religiosity but a form of violence.
More on that later, when we breathe again. Because a world that desires life and aspires to continue respecting freedom of belief and religion will have to learn deeply and quickly, and finally distinguish between freedoms of belief that must be respected and dangerous ideologies that have no choice but to treat them as malaria hotspots do. Dry the puddles. Clog the sources of pollution. Purify the stagnant water.
• • •
Monday evening, when my family was released, was the date of the fourth phase of the deal that was accepted. The cruel meaning is clear to all. The conclusion of the deal, when it comes, will also be the most timely moment for all the enemy's antics, both expected and unexpected. Whoever doesn't come home tonight, you'll know when we'll see him again. We all worry about the Bibas family. To those cute redhead babies. In the last two months, we have become one family. All the families of the abductees, from members of the nuclear family, to wider circles of kinship of brothers and uncles, to friends who left everything and entered the largest and most shocking prisoner redemption event in our history.
Is. We're all family already. After all, we sat day after day around long, sad tables where no one touched the refreshments. We met on Zoom, in squares and in the offices of senior officials. We hugged and cried, and "Don't forget to drink" and "You have to get some rest." And again we heard each person's personal story, and we know quite a lot about each other.
One thing we didn't really know until the last few days. We didn't know what these guys looked like when they smiled. Facial muscles that hadn't been activated in 50 days, muscles that had turned into deep wrinkles, suddenly opened up to a smile. Hallelujah, how fun I got to see them smile.
We've been told, and we've too, that it's not so smart of us that we talk to and about emotion. That it is wrong for Israel to emphasize our humanity, compassion and love of humanity. They say it encourages the enemy, portrays it as weakness and raises the redemption prices of our kidnappers. In effect, we are told that in order to defeat the enemy, we must be the enemy itself. To adapt his world and adopt his values and personality.
The father who remained in Gaza, Ofer Calderon, photo: Private
I understand why they say that, but in my view it is a deep and fundamental mistake. Our identity is our strength, and it is the secret ingredient. Even if the Nazis and Amalekites despise it, and always despise it, what we transmit internally, to the Israeli heart and to the families who all have a child on the front lines, is of greater importance than the limited tactic of "how is it perceived by the enemy" or "don't say goat." We will win because of who we are, not in spite of who we are. Does anyone think otherwise?
And one more thing, and he will be critical, with forgiveness. Whoever failed to predict a ground invasion by thousands of murderers, looters, and rapists along the fence line would do well to restrain his self-confidence and omniscient by teaching us all about the undercurrents of the Gaza subconsciousness, and about the subtle nuances of the enemy's hidden psychology... Humility, friends.
• • •
The children did not return home. There's really no home at this point. But they are in the country and in an embrace. And since then everyone has been asking how it feels. There is no good answer to this question, because more than there is joy here, there is a very extreme relief here. It is difficult to breathe at first. And we do not forget for a moment that there are another 160 abductees in Gaza, a terrible number, among whom are the parents and family members of those who were released. Ofer too. Honey of a human being, and especially the father of Erez and Sahar. So how does it feel? Like stopping in the middle of a marathon to pick up a bottle of water and immediately return to the race. There's really no time for parties.
Our race is currently divided into two. The struggle to free all the abductees imprisoned in Gaza, and the effort to build Israel the day after. I very much hope that the first struggle will be short and end with good news. The second struggle will probably continue for the rest of our lives. One of the tasks is to ensure that not only Israel does everything possible so that October 7 does not happen again. Each and every one of our many enemies will shudder at the thought that something like this will happen again.
It's not clear to me exactly how it is possible to be, on the one hand, a nervous Texan farmer who spits tobacco, where no one approaches his fence without getting a bullet, and on the other hand to be attentive and understanding and realize that we no longer shut our mouths to the "snooty" observer, do not push back and do not laugh at any warning, just because the person who voiced it was just a "girl in uniform." It really doesn't work out together, but that's exactly what we're going to have to be. Such an attentive Texas farmer.
Wrong? We'll fix it! If you find a mistake in the article, please share with us