Aftermath of a senseless act

GALIT LEIBOVITCH

My name is Galit Leibovitch. I live in Yemin Orde, a youth village for disadvantaged children on Mount Carmel, Israel. Until the night of June 17, I was the mother of four happy children. That night, gunmen filled with hate came with their weapons and proudly returned to their homes and families where they were seen as heroes - admired for murdering a 7-year-old Israeli girl, our daughter Noam.

In that split second our lives were changed forever.

Nothing on that Tuesday morning prepared us for what was to happen. It was a day of celebration - the third birthday of our youngest daughter Shirah. My parents, my husband Shlomo and I, our 16-year-old daughter Hilah, our 11-year-old son Moshe and Noam went to Shirah's preschool for the party.

Later that day, we drove the 80 miles to Jerusalem for a family party celebrating my nephew's bar mitzvah. On the way home, we drove on the new Trans-Israel Highway when out of the darkness came loud noises and flashes of bright yellow light. Shlomo drove half a mile to the top of the hill. It was then that we checked the children. Shirah was crying and had injuries to her hand and back. Noam was silent, completely silent.

When the ambulances finally arrived, all that remained was to pronounce the time of Noam's death.

The ambulance rushed Shirah to the hospital where the doctors told us that a bullet had shattered her wrist, crushed most of the bones in her hand, disconnected ligaments and muscles, fractured her spine - finally stopping next to her spinal column. This was the same bullet that had killed Noam.

How can I describe this girl who never had the chance to celebrate her eighth birthday?

Noam required so little attention. She was a tomboy, climbing trees, playing sports with all the boys and speeding everywhere on her bicycle.

Noam wrote this poem not long before she left us:

"I think every butterfly has a flower to guard. Sometimes I think that I am a happy, little butterfly and my job is to make everyone happy - my parents, my sisters, my brother and my friends.

"But it's very hard for the butterfly to leave its flower. Could God let him stay longer and keep his friend and those he loves happy? If not, then the butterfly will listen from above and maybe come to visit.

"What happens when the butterfly goes to heaven? The happy butterfly goes to heaven to make God happy."

Shirah keeps asking about her sister. Hilah and Moshe understand too well and ask few or no questions. But this is not so for Shirah. She wants to know why her sister needs to stay with God. How can Shirah understand that future tragedies like ours and so many other families' will only be avoided by teaching the new generation the true meaning of peace - of love and respect for others? When children are taught to hate, and when killers are glorified as heroes, how can we expect them to be partners in the peace that we all seek?

How can I explain this to her?

Beth Joseph Congregation, in conjunction with the Phoenix Hebrew Academy, has raised $16,000 for the Leibovitch family.

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