About 20 years ago, as is our custom, the whole family went on a desert trip in the Negev for several days.

For these trips we always had a permanent partner family. On this particular occasion we traveled together and spent two days in the desert. On the third day the other family had to return home, and we wanted to stay another night. Their son Yonatan, who is a good friend of my son Tomer, wanted to stay with us for another night. And for we agreed to it.

On the last day we travelled in a wadi called Nahal Arod, which has a challenging route. Every time we got to the area where the jeep was supposed to go through such a difficult passage, we all got out of the vehicle and waited outside for the jeep to pass. During one of the crossings we were standing on the side of the path and the tire trying to spin and cross the obstacle “threw” a stone that hit Yonatan directly on the head.

Yonatan fell down and started crying and bleeding profusely. I, who was standing next to him, immediately came to his aid and tried to stop the bleeding. We had a first aid kit in the car, and with the little I knew, I did the best I could. In the time that passed, which felt like an eternity to me, I suddenly realized that Aviel was gone. And I wondered in anger, “Where did he go and leave me alone in this difficult situation?” In retrospect, I realized that Aviel thought several steps ahead. He saw we needed outside help, and he, who was part of a rescue unit, went up the mountain to get a cell phone signal and call for help.

Archive photo: An Israeli army Unit 669 rescue helicopter. Photo: Uri Lenz/Flash90.

After some time, I don’t know how long, I heard a rescue helicopter hovering in the air and I also heard Aviel’s voice trying to steer it to land as close as possible to the scene of the incident. Soldiers of IDF’s airborne rescue force, Unit 669, came out of the helicopter with a stretcher. They picked up Yonatan and asked me to join them. Together we flew to Soroka Hospital. At the hospital, they treated Yonatan and stitched up the wound, which was very deep. After he was out of danger, Aviel called and informed his parents what had happened.

After everything passed and Yonatan was feeling better, Aviel insisted that the two families go to revisit Nahal Arod, process and cross it together and try to heal the trauma that was born there for all of us. It worked great, and after that we continued to take trips to the desert.

There are many more emotions surrounding this story that burned in my heart and left a scar there. But the reason I’m telling it now is that in the last week the social networks in Israel, as well as mainstream news outlets, are in an uproar over a celebration held by the father of the rescued hostage Noa Argamani. They called the celebration: “Back to life”

How much hate she received on the networks, how much venom and vitriol! It’s hard to believe what people are capable of. The controversy over the dancing and celebration stirred up and brought out “evil incarnate.” Noa Argamani was kidnapped together with her boyfriend while they were dancing and celebrating at the Nova festival on October 7th. For about 200 days she was held captive by the cruel and heartless terrorists. Shortly after the IDF rescued her, Noa’s mother died of cancer.

Rescued hostage Noa Argamani at the funeral of her mother Liora Argamani at the cemetery in Beersheva, southern Israel, July 2, 2024. Photo by Dudu Greenspan/Flash90.

Her father realized that something had to be done to help her escape the trauma. And he realized another thing. Trauma can be healed by revisiting some of the circumstances – in this case, on the dance floor. They decided to throw a party for all her friends, and for a moment they managed to silence the tragedy. In the midst of all the abysmal grief that this family is experiencing and that this country is experiencing, Noa’s father told her: “Dance Noa, right now dance. It will bring some healing to do the thing that cut off your joy of life in an instant.”

Magnifiques images de l’ancienne otage Noa Argamani dansant avec son père, Yaakov, lors d’une fête pour célébrer la vie !

Noa a profité de cette occasion pour faire passer un très beau message :

« Ce n’est pas idéal que nous organisions cette fête alors qu’il y a encore une… pic.twitter.com/eaErjyGaRv

— Jérémy Benhaïm (@JeremBenhaim) August 26, 2024

In addition to the negative reactions there was a positive comment that touched me. And here it is – a letter written by a bereaved father, the father of the late Sergeant Elisha, to Noa Argamani.

Celebrate life Noa.

Dance for yourself.

Dance for us.

Because we fought for you to be able to dance.

For the return of the smile that was stolen from you, we sent our child into battle.

So that you may live happily, our beloved son fought and died.

I, too, am a father bereaved of a son who fought to save you,

I was happy when my grandson… was born.

And I celebrated birthdays with a big laugh.

I danced at weddings, and even in day-to-day moments of happiness.

And it never occurred to me for a moment that I was harming his memory, or lessening the pain of his death in any way.

Because your heart-our heart-is wide, and has two chambers.

And it has room for complete joy, in one chamber, and pain for those who fell for you and for those whose return you still await, in the other.

The joy does not diminish the pain, and the pain does not diminish the intensity of the joy.

Don’t listen to the voices of the constant ‘no’ people, to the complainants.

To the “champions of sadness.”

To those who will never experience even a fraction of the agony you went through, and yet allow themselves, with endless patronages, to “frost over” at your right to rejoice.

Ignore them.

The people of Israel saved you from death not so that you would continue to die.

But for you to live.

So dance Noa, my love,

Be happy.

For your sake and for ours.

Because your smile lights up our dark days.

And your dancing makes our hearts dance with happiness.

And your smile is more comforting than any comfort.

– Hagi Lober, bereaved father

I connect from the bottom of my heart with the words of this wonderful father, and any extra word I could add would only detract.