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Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Carmel Bachar Life Story Family and friends share their stories Carmel was born on January 4, 2008, the third son following Rotem and Nofar, and older brother to Hadar. Dana and Avida were experienced parents by then, enough to see that Carmel had been blessed with an inner calm. He never cried or made demands, therefore it was important not to overlook him. From a young age, he was self-sufficient, hardworking, and helpful wherever needed. When asked for assistance, he would always say "no problem", and it was safe to assume the job would be done. In his workman's clothes and Redback boots, Carmel took everything easy, and whenever a problem arose, he simply did all that was necessary to solve it. He was a handsome, charismatic child who knew how to have fun and enjoy life; like his parents, he was full of love and surrounded himself with friends. Carmel chose Arabic as his high-school elective, and learned to speak it. He was fond of TikTok and liked listening to rap music at the gym, as well as standup comedy by Yonatan Barak. Carmel was the natural leader of the Moran class, joined the bar mitzvah team in the Shaldag class, and started this year in the Lilach class. In addition to being a responsible young man, Carmel was adventurous and curious. He liked wandering the streets of the kibbutz with his cousin Lotem as well as with Yuval, Lotan, and Tomer. They knew every nook and cranny of the kibbutz and even raided some food from the dining hall one night. No wonder Avida nicknamed them The Tricksters. Avida taught Carmel how to work a barbecue, and all Carmel's friends knew he had steaks and was always happy to cook them a meal. Carmel loved the sea. He began surfing at age eight and loved the waves ever since. He surfed with siblings Nofar and Hadar and their cousins, knew and followed all the professional surfers on social media, and had planned to take a surfing course in Sri Lanka this winter. The Bachars are a loving, warm, tight-knit, strong, and optimistic family. Dana and Carmel had a special close relationship. It was only out of respect for Carmel that Dana agreed to forgo her tradition and agreed to kiss him only twice a day: morning and night. On that Sabbat morning, when they learned that terrorists had infiltrated Be'eri, Carmel quickly collected four butcher knives from the kitchen and placed them on the couch, saying to his father: "Don't worry Dad, we have four knives here. We will kill them." The brave boy was gravely wounded. The hours passed, the rescue teams were late, and Carmel bled out next to his mother. With his last breaths, he asked his sister Hadar to be buried with his surfboard. He was 15 when he died. May his memory be blessed. Back 04.01.2008 - 07.10.2023 15 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Yarin Marie Peled Life Story Family and friends share their stories Yarin Marie Peled was born on Kibbutz Be'eri to Tal and Nimrod in April 2003. She had two sisters, Eli Shitrit and Lihi Peled. Nimrod, Yarin's father, works in the field of medical management, while her mother, Tal, manages the quality department at Be'eri Printing. Her parents met in 2001, got married, and gave birth to Yarin and Lihi. Yarin had another sister, Eli, from her mom’s previous marriage. Yarin always referred to her mother as "Imihu", and Yarin was affectionately called "Nini" by the family, a nickname that accompanied her until the end of her life. During her army service she used to play voice messages of her dad calling her “Nini” for her friends to hear it. Her mother says, “She had large blue eyes, a calm personality, and a smile that said it all.” A close friendship prevailed among the three sisters and Yarin was considered the family glue. She held a central place, connecting everyone – an angel who knew how to bring all the pieces together. As a child, Yarin stood out with her sharp and unique thinking, as well as her sense of humor. While other girls chose pink shirts, Yarin preferred green and orange. Even as a child, she understood sarcasm, found the hidden humor between the lines, and excelled in sports. She did gymnastics until 8th grade and throughout junior and high school she played volleyball. Yarin and her sister Lihi both played on the school team, and together they led the team to win the national championship. Thanks to volleyball, at 15 she also met her boyfriend Idan Kishinevsky, a relationship that lasted until her death. Her sister Eli recalls that on their first meeting he threw a ball at her. Later on, they discovered their shared passion for caregiving and medicine. When Yarin took tests to volunteer for first aid Magen David Adom “MADA", Idan sent her summaries of the material for her to use. They continued talking and never stopped. Yarin was drawn to the medical field from a young age. When her younger sister Lihi, at the age of seven, had a severe epileptic seizure in her sleep, Yarin was there, called her parents, and developed a strong desire to help and care for others, to know what to do and how to respond in times of distress. At the age of 15, Yarin began volunteering with MADA in Ofakim, which took up most of her free time. She loved providing first aid and dreamed of becoming a paramedic. She was adamant about becoming a paramedic in the military. She further insisted on serving in the Gaza envelope, despite its volatility, specifically in the Intensive Care Unit in the Nahal Oz base. Yarin saw it as a mission to protect her home and also to care for the people of Be'eri. Her dedication was absolute, and she continued volunteering with MADA while serving in the military. When she came home on Thursdays, she would immediately go on duty at MADA. She excelled both in volunteering and in her military service. The divisional chief medical officer asked her to stay on as a career soldier as his assistant. Although she had already started studying for the psychometric exam and intended to study paramedics and nursing at Ben-Gurion University, she accepted the offer. Her sister Eli said, "Your role fulfilled you; they fought for you to stay on, they wanted a bit more from you; they didn't want to let you go." Yarin and Idan, who was born at Mishmar HaNegev, were about to move in together. They were always competing with each other: who knew more, who was a better paramedic and who had more difficult cases. Their relationship, which lasted five years, was mature and close and they found in each other the love of their lives. They had already planned their future together and it was clear that they would start planning for their wedding as soon as she finished her service. Idan said, "We grew up together," describing Yarin as always cheerful, happy, laughing, and ready to help. They were inseparable, and Idan mentioned that “She was always there, no matter what time it was – she would come. She was always ready to lend a listening ear. There was no one who did not like her at the station. She always wanted to do as many shifts as possible even when she didn’t have the time. She was perfect, I have no other word to describe her.” Yarin's best friend from Be'eri was Nevo, but Yarin was always surrounded by friends, each receiving her full attention, ensuring that no one felt left out. Her friends from the military service described her as the social heart of the base – a soldier who loved singing Mizrahi songs loudly in the car, playing backgammon, cooking and teaching others to cook, and making everyone laugh until their stomachs hurt. Her friend Shai says, "I knew that as long as she was with me - nothing was scary." And another friend, Lia Ifergan, adds, "It was impossible not to be her friend; it was simply not possible." On the morning of October 7th, Yarin woke up in the Nahal Oz base to the sound of alarms and explosions. She and her friends ran to the open shelter, and Yarin managed to speak with her mother on the phone. A grenade was thrown towards the shelter, and Yarin, along with her friend Shir Biton, returned to their living quarters and took cover. When they encountered a terrorist, they killed him, but another terrorist surprised them in the room and killed both of them. Yarin will be remembered by her family, friends, and acquaintances as a girl full of laughter and devoted to others; the cheerful worker in the kibbutz grocery store loved and appreciated by all the members of the kibbutz; a committed and respected MADA volunteer; a volleyball player who did not stop until victorious; a daughter, sister, girlfriend, and friend who served as an anchor, providing strength, light, and joy to those around her. We carry her heart. We carry her heart within our hearts forever. May her memory be blessed. Back 08.04.2003 - 07.10.2023 20 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Noah Hershkovitz Life Story Family and friends share their stories Noah Hershkovitz was born in 1955 in the Yad Eliyahu neighborhood in Tel Aviv, the third son of Yosef and Fortune who made aliyah to Israel from Poland and Egypt. Noah came after his older siblings, Rachel and Zion, and after him came Yisrael, the youngest brother who died last year. In high school, Noah chose a course of study in biology, and spent his spare time in the Noar Oved VeLomed movement, in which, after it was joined by the “Barak” contingent of the airborne Nahal unit, a connection was formed between him and the kibbutz movement and values. Noah fought in the Yom Kippur war and the Lebanon war. Those experiences left a strong impression upon his soul, but he did not have the resources to share his burden with others. After his marriage to Ma’ayana, Noah worked in the cowshed and in the carton factory in Kibbutz Ein Hashlosha. When the family moved to Be’eri, he continued his work in the cowshed as well as in the printing house. When he was forty, he studied civil engineering, and after completing his studies, he worked as a civil engineer in the A.B. Planning company in Sderot which specialized in building reinforced rooms. Noah especially paid heed to the subject of safety, and safety mishaps would disturb him greatly. He believed that everything that had been designed, whether a building or a machine or a tool, should be durable, reliable, and safe. In fact, those were his characteristics: fairness, loyalty and responsibility. Anyone who asked something of him knew that Noah – “Nachka” – would do it for him precisely and with all his heart. Noah had golden hands. His main hobby was carpentry, and whole generations of kibbutz children enjoyed the sets that he built, the games, the toys, the doll houses and the variety of crazy inventions for which he collected spare parts, machine parts and other items that he utilized in the workshop next to his home.He loved to ride bicycles and covered large distances with friends from the riding club or during solitary hours that he needed in the fields and in the forest which enclose Be’eri. Noah and Ma’ayana met in 1975 in Kibbutz Kalia. Noah came with his group of friends and met Ma’ayana who joined the kibbutz for a year of service. Both were young, beautiful, chatterboxes, and full of life, and the fire of love burned between them from their first meeting – a nighttime swim on an off-limits beach at the Dead Sea. Several months later, Ma’ayana was drafted into the Communications Corps and was stationed in Jerusalem. Despite the distance, they continued to nurture their relationship, which was formalized at Kibbutz Ein Hashlosha in August 1978 following a nighttime telephone conversation in which Ma’ayana notified Noah that she had fulfilled her military service and that they were going to get married. Noah and Ma’ayana loved the kibbutz idea, and when they moved to Kibbutz Be’eri in 1986, they felt that they had found their home and called it a special piece of the Garden of Eden. The aspect of their relationship which supported them through the ups and downs of life over the years was their great love. In addition, they shared values and common areas of interest: their love of sports which led them to swim and ride together, love of art and culture, the world of classical music and Land of Israel songs, and the love of handicrafts in which they would combine their skills in the areas of carpentry and art, and almost always for someone else – the children, the grandchildren, nursery schools and the kibbutz school. In their warm home in Be’eri, in the “border patrol” neighborhood in which Tamir, their third child, was born, a tribe of friends of their age formed. In the common grassy areas in the heart of the neighborhood, children ran around freely and barefoot and felt at home in each of the houses in the neighborhood. Noah and Ma’ayana shared household tasks, and the friends who came in would partake of Noah’s orange cake or Ma’ayana’s wonderful cheesecake. But more than anything, Noah and Ma’ayana’s lives were dedicated to their children, Ella, Amit, and Tamir, and to their seven loving grandchildren: Amir, Daniel, Oz, Lavie, Ma’ayan, Raz, and Naomi. Noah would play with them and Ma’ayana would spend hours doing creative activities, telling stories and swimming with them in the kibbutz pool. Noah always emphasized to the children the value of a united family, and Ma’ayana was the strong woman who lived life fully and inspired them to flourish and grow. Noah and Ma’ayana were secular people who lived a life full of faith. Their faith was expressed in the respect that they felt for all people and their ability to respect and see the divine light in everyone. Back 11.05.1955 - 07.10.2023 68 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Dor Rider Life Story Family and friends share their stories Back 12.11.2001 - 07.10.2023 22 years old (Temporary worker)

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Yosi Sharabi Life Story Family and friends share their stories Yossi was the second child of Ratzon and Chana, and brother of Osnat, Eli, Sharon, and Hila. He was born and raised in Tel Aviv, in the Nir Aviv neighborhood. In his home - a four-story building, everyone knew everyone — they played together, studied together, and grew up together. The Sharabi home was always open, always full of friends who felt like part of the family. From a young age, Yossi developed a special love for the sea and for soccer. He would come home from school, do his homework, and run downstairs to play with his brother and the neighborhood kids. Almost every Saturday, they would pack a ball, towels, a cooler filled with fruit, and his mother Chana’s jahnun , and head to the beach until evening fell. Yossi used to say, “Those were the days when the simplicity of life and the joy we found in what we already had filled everyone with a happiness that sought for nothing more.” Yossi studied in Tel Aviv until ninth grade, and in 1985 he joined the youth program on Kibbutz Einat. His wish to experience kibbutz life grew from his frequent visits to his older sister Osnat, who lived on Kibbutz HaZorea. From ninth to twelfth grade, he studied at ORT Hof HaSharon High School at Kibbutz Shefayim, majoring in electronics and computers. In 1989, he enlisted in the IDF Signal Corps and served as a communications technician for four years. After his military service, Yossi traveled through New Zealand and Australia, where he embarked on extreme adventures — including bungee jumping from a height of 102 meters. Throughout his life, even as an adult, he insisted on riding every terrifying, high, and twisting roller coaster he came across in amusement parks across Europe. In 2001, Yossi moved to Kibbutz Be’eri, following his brother Eli. He began working at the Be’eri Printing Press, first on the production floor in the wrapping department, later taking on management roles in the packaging and envelope divisions, and eventually becoming the logistics and procurement manager. After a short time working outside the kibbutz, he returned to Be’eri Printing as head of security and safety, becoming part of the factory’s leadership team. Alongside his professional work, Yossi completed both a bachelor’s and a master’s degree and planned to continue developing his expertise in economics and marketing. In every role he took on, Yossi stood out for his drive to act — and to do good. He was always dedicated, professional, and motivated by a deep desire to make a meaningful difference. During this time, Yossi met Nira, a nurse in the hematology-oncology department at Soroka Hospital. The two married in 2005. A year later, their first daughter, Yuval, was born, and they became a family. In 2009, their second daughter, Ofir, was born, and a year and four months later, their youngest, Oren, joined them. Yossi, Nira, and their children became an inseparable part of the Be’eri community. The transition from Tel Aviv to the kibbutz came naturally to Yossi — he became part of the kibbutz, and the kibbutz became part of him. Yossi volunteered with other kibbutz members at Bereshit , a shelter providing hot meals and a safe space for homeless youth. He felt it was a privilege to help teenagers in crisis and never missed the monthly volunteer evenings. His specialty was the barbecue — and when new kids arrived at the shelter, the veterans would tell them, “If Yossi’s coming tonight, there’s a good chance there’ll be steaks.” The Be’eri synagogue was also close to Yossi’s heart. He served as a cantor and regularly attended prayer with his daughters from the time they were small. Over the years, he became involved in the synagogue’s upkeep and organization — during holidays and throughout the year — always with humility and quiet dedication. He was slated to take over the synagogue’s management and was part of the team planning for its future. Yossi knew how to fill his free time well. He loved watching nature and history programs, enjoyed extreme sports and soccer, liked solving crossword puzzles, and could fix absolutely anything around the house — a true handyman. But above all, Yossi loved surfing — especially with his daughters. For him, the quality time began already on the drive to the beach and continued between the waves. He cherished these moments, seeing them as the most important thing in life. Together, they created countless precious memories. On October 7, 2023, Yossi was abducted from his home and taken into Gaza. Those who were held captive with him have repeatedly testified how much his calm presence helped them — even in the darkest, most frightening moments. Yossi protected, comforted, and supported them, acting as a father figure to the younger captives until his very last day. Yossi was murdered on the ninety-seventh day of captivity — January 10, 2024 — when the building where he was held collapsed following an Israeli Air Force strike. Yossi was a man of peace. A devoted and loving family man who cherished life’s simple joys. Who is the man who desires life, who loves days to see goodness Guard your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceitfully. Shun evil and do good, seek peace and pursue it. This is how he lived.This was his way. May his memory be blessed. Back 16.09.1970 - 14.01.2024 53 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Yehudit Weiss Life Story Family and friends share their stories Yehudit was born in the HaTivkvah neighborhood of Tel Aviv to Shoshana and Ya’akov Kaminer. She was the eldest of five children. Her mother was a homemaker, while her father was an ironworker, who was often sent to work away from home for long periods. From an early age, Yehudit took on some parental duties, taking care of her younger brothers and sisters. However, even then she had clear priorities: when she went to school with money for a sandwich, she would skip her lunch, and go to the beach. When she grew up, she wanted to join a Nahal unit, but was concerned about leaving her siblings. Her aunt Sarah encouraged her to join the Nahal unit, as otherwise “there will be nothing left of you”. Yehudit recounted that this was the moment that she chose life. She met Shmulik in the Nahal unit. They underwent their training together on Kibbutz Gilgal and became a couple during a trip to the Sinai desert. They got married on Gilgal, which was where Hagar, their eldest daughter, was born. They moved from Gilgal to Kibbutz Erez, where their son Asaf was born. The family was joined there by Avishai, Yehudit’s younger brother. They arrived in Be’eri in 1991, with Yehudit being hired as a kindergarten teacher. After two years they became kibbutz members. Omer, Daniel and Ohad were born in Be’eri. Shmulik began a long career working in the garage, and Yehudit continued working in the kindergarten for a while. However, Yehudit continued developing over the years: she was put in charge of the communal dining room, went on to earn a degree in public administration, and then got a Mster’s in Business Management and Economics at Ben Gurion University. She took on the responsibility of coordinating nursing and care for the elderly at Be’eri. She worked for some time at ‘Amal’ before returning to work in Be’eri managing Welfare Services on the kibbutz. After a while she decided to limit the emotional involvement in her work with her kibbutz community, by moving her job over to managing Welfare Services on Kibbutz Revivim, until she retired. Retirement opened up new opportunities for Yehudit. She celebrated. She kept a tight schedule. In order to manage it, she color-coded her Google diary to include all of her activities: there was a set day for each of her children and babysitting the grandchildren. She also had many hobbies and pleasurable engagements. Every Tuesday she went to the movies in Tel Aviv or spent time in Ashkelon with two girlfriends. But family always came first: Yehudit answered every call from home. On that Black Saturday, Omer and his wife Zemer had called Yehudit at 3am, to ask her advice about their son who had a high fever, and before they managed to consult with the doctor on call, Yehudit had set out over to their home. Yehudit and Shmulik had a marriage made in heaven, true love. In the evenings they could be seen nodding off in front of the television, side by side, heads on each other’s shoulders. They loved spending time together: going on trips, watching plays, spending time with friends. Shmulik delighted in pampering her with the jewelry that she loved. They never raised their voices in arguments and conducted their family life with deep mutual respect. They did everything together, sharing their tasks, aside from cooking and baking. Yehudit made sure to make jachnun for each shabbat, and pastries filled with dates, halva or chocolate spread, cakes made to order for each grandchild, and for friends too. It was their tradition for Shmulik always to make a comment, and for Yehudit to laugh and accept it. Yehudit was a very involved mother and grandmother, without interfering. She only gave advice when she was asked for it. As a devoted grandmother, she went on trips with her grandchildren, singing them songs about the good old days in Israel; she bought them treats and took them to classes and plays. Shmulik and Yehudit established a warm home, full of family and friends, and people they took under their wing, like hired workers on the kibbutz, female soldiers, and others. She knew how to give everyone warmth, confidence, optimism, time, and attention. At the same time, she always managed to keep some private space for herself - to express herself, consult with people she was close to, like Rafi and Tali, and also to take walks around the kibbutz, go to the gym and the swimming pool, participate in folk dancing, sing in a choir and to read books. She would read quickly, always two or three books at the same time – on her cellphone, her iPad, and also traditional "real" books. Yehudit discovered she had cancer by chance, a few months before her death, as she had been pushed into going for tests. When she received the results, she said that everything seemed black to her, but then she decided to take the diagnosis lightly. She conveyed to everyone that everything would be fine. She even flew off for a trip before her surgery. Her children say, “She loved life, took pleasure in enjoying her life, and made sure that everyone around her enjoyed their lives too.” Even on Black Saturday, she made sure not to make anyone worry, and sent calm, reassuring messages. She was 65 years old when she died. We still do not know exactly when she was murdered, how her life ended, what she knew or didn’t know about Shmulik and about the large family she left behind her. Yehudit was an optimistic woman who loved life, loved being active, enjoyed the large and small pleasures of life, travel, family and friends. She was a mother who enveloped everyone in her “tenderness and love”, endlessly devoted to her children and grandchildren, a tower of strength, inspirational in her choices for a good life; for her humanity, for her belief in goodness and her ability to grow from life’s hardships. Her children, her daughters in law, and her grandchildren want to tell you: We are alive; we choose life, like you did. May your memory be a blessing. Back 13.4.1958 - 07.10.2023 65 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Hannah Siton Life Story Family and friends share their stories Hannah was born in Magdiel (now Hod Hasharon), the eldest daughter of Penina and Shlomo Weissblatt, of blessed memory. Her parents, Holocaust survivors from Poland, met and married in Israel, and were blessed with the births of Danny and Pessi. Penina, her mother, was the homemaker, while Shlomo, her father, worked tirelessly in agriculture throughout his life. Their home was filled with Yiddish, observing kosher traditions, and celebrating Jewish holidays. It was a modest and pleasant home, where family members treated each other with respect and kindness. It was a happy childhood, in a loving home with a large yard where her father had built playground equipment. She completed her high-school studies at the Sharon School for Administration and Secretarial Studies in Ra'anana. For two years, she worked as a clerk at Paz-Gaz until her enlistment in the army. After serving six months in the Nahal Brigade at Kibbutz Sasa, she served in the Golani Brigade and was discharged in 1970. A year later, she married Yitzhak Siton, who was nicknamed "Zizi," and they were blessed with the births of their children, Lior, Tal, Noa, and Ran. Hannah dedicated herself to caring for her children and worked as a secretary at the Amal school and later at the Hod school for special education. Hannah was a wonderful mother, granting her children freedom and independence, while standing by them in both joyful and difficult moments. She was the glue that held the family together. When her husband, Yitzhak, began working in Africa in 2001, she was always there - close to her children and grandchildren, maintaining a strong and united family unit. Hannah was a true friend to her close friends, always with a wide smile and an enthusiast for some "action", knowing how to bring everyone out for activities and experiences. Throughout her life, Hannah sought out the richness of life in every aspect. She was surrounded by many friends, with her beloved sister Pessi by her side. They embarked on outstanding trips, scaling mountains and fulfilling dreams together, as if they had just been released from the army. China, Japan, India, Nepal. During the time spent at home, she discovered a passion for art, painting, and embroidery. She was always energetic, positive, and full of love for life. Hannah and Pessi were sisters and friends in heart and soul. The were loving and supportive of each other endlessly. They never argued, and genuinely enjoyed being together. They were inseparable. And thus, they found themselves together on the evening of Simchat Torah. Hannah, Yitzhak, and their son Tal spent the holiday with Pessi and her children on Kibbutz Be'eri. The family gathered for the Friday night meal as usual. They danced and sang together in the family dining room. The next day, on Saturday, the 7th of October, at 6:30 in the morning, with the sound of sirens, they all entered the safe room. From the safe room, Hannah continued to correspond and talk with her children and friends. The connection was severed around noon when the terrorists broke into the house and the safe room. According to testimonies, Yitzhak was shot and killed on the spot while blocking the door with his body, along with Tal, who was also injured in the knee and remained wounded and bleeding while the terrorists rounded up more people from neighboring houses. For many hours, a battle raged between a large force of terrorists and IDF and security forces. Towards the evening, tank shells were fired at the house. Out of 14 residents of the settlement, two women remained alive to tell the last moments. Hannah was a people-person; she saw others truly, full of goodwill and caring towards those around her. That's why it was so easy to share experiences with her, to consult with her, and there was no one who did not love her. Straightforward and honest, she spoke the truth even when it was not easy to hear, and above all, she was genuine, free from any pretense or evil. She always acted out of love and concern for others. From the safe room, she managed to write to her children, "Lucky we are here, and Pessi is not alone." That's who Hannah was. She was 73 at her death. May her memory be blessed Back 30.08.1950 - 07.10.2023 73 years old (Pesi Cohen's sister)

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Yonatan Rapoport Life Story Family and friends share their stories Yonatan - whom everyone called Yoni and only his mom called “J.J.” - was born on April 16, 1982 on the Isle of Wight, a British island in the English Channel. Yoni was the eldest son of Omer and Noelle. He was the sole redhead among his siblings Adam, Natasha, Kenny who died in 2015, and Dan. As a child, Yoni was a curious and likeable boy, but mischievous and stubborn. Redheaded stubborn. A member of Be’eri’s infamous “Rool-Rool” group. Once he went for a puddle-jumping jaunt with his mother, and instead of wearing boots, he just lay down in the cold water and rolled with laughter. Neighbors who passed by were sure he’d catch cold, but Yoni and Noelle weren't afraid of a little runny nose. The important thing was for him to be happy. At age six, Yoni moved from kindergarten to Iris's class, which was still meeting at the local school in Be’eri. In adolescence, Yoni's stubbornness grew, and more than once he challenged the education system. The usual pranks of kibbutz boys: alcohol, cigarettes, earring, spiked haircut. Even when he didn’t manage well in the vegetable garden, work is work, as they teach on the kibbutz. Luckily, he had a sense of humor, which eased his parents’ lot. He loved to be with friends, and didn't always come home on time. On the other hand, he was quite punctual for football games. He was a gifted footballer and played on the school's football team in its heyday, when it climbed to a higher league. He was an ardent fan of Manchester United, Barcelona and Maccabi Haifa. Since Kenny's passing, the Rapoport brothers would fly together each year to a Manchester match. At Yoni’s funeral, the family chose to play the song that opens every Manchester game: This is the One by the Stone Roses. Yoni enlisted in an IDF intelligence unit in Judea and Samaria during the difficult period of the Intifada. He was a good soldier and was granted a Certificate of Merit by Israel’s president. Yet he had a very hard time coming to terms with what he saw and experienced, especially from the Palestinian side. He provided no descriptions, but the family says that something inside him changed. The things he was exposed to resonated within him and left a lasting impression. After his military service, Yoni set out alone on the Big Trek. He was always a soloist, and did not want partners. He began his journey in Thailand, and when he reached India, he fell in love with it. He returned there again and again, and over the ten years between age 20 and 30, he spent a total of two years in India. Yoni became friends with a local family in the Himalaya Mountains, followed by his siblings Natasha and Dan. In Varanasi he began playing the sitar, and returned there to study over the years. On the kibbutz, he continued to frequently play the guitar and sitar. In India, Yoni met Ola, who would become his wife and the mother of his two children. He invited her to trek with him to the three holiest Hindu temples in the Himalayas, and they returned to Israel together. They lived in Ein Kerem for some three years. Yoni became a shepherd in the Jerusalem area – work that fascinated this lover of nature, silence, and open air. When Ola became pregnant, they returned to Be’eri. They were a private couple, far from the madding crowd. They would hike in the area, and enjoyed listening to Indian music. In May 2014, their son Yosef was born, followed three years later by their daughter Aloma. Separating from Ola was difficult, but the children filled him with joy. He was proud of Yosef, an intelligent, quiet boy, and Aloma, a lively little girl full of life. As a father, he made certain to set boundaries for the children, but primarily he was with them, made them laugh, raised the dog with them, and wondered at their very existence. He was a loner in the family, but always cared about and took an interest in the wellbeing of the family, near and far. Yoni’s love for the kibbutz found expression in his work in the landscaping branch, and he became more and more versed in the field of horticulture. He completed several courses in gardening, and was about to begin another landscaping course. In this realm, he was a right-hand man for the elderly, helping them to cultivate their gardens, plant, or prune. In his own shy way, Yoni asked each one how they were doing and how he could help. He worked diligently and quietly, driving across the kibbutz roads in his Gator, loaded with pruned shrubs or hauling plants from the nursery. Only when you got into a random conversation with Yoni about the trees did you grasp the extensive knowledge he had amassed over the years and his great passion for the subject. The kibbutz loved him. On Saturday morning, October 7, 2023, Yoni was with his children in the bomb shelter. His mother Noelle notes, “He was a hero. He was in touch with me when the terrorists entered his house. He wrote to me that they had broken into his house and to please call for help. I tried, but there was no one to talk to. What we know is that before the terrorists broke into the shelter, he told the children to hide under the bed, to be very quiet, and not to leave there. The children remained in the house and survived.” “We love Yoni, and will continue what he began,” his family promises. “We will take care of the children that he so courageously saved. We will be okay. Let him sit there, calm, drinking a glass of whiskey, and be happy to see us.” Yoni Rapoport was murdered on Saturday, October 7, 2023. He was 41 years old at his death. May his memory be blessed. Back 16.04.1982 - 07.10.2023 41 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Yahel Sharabi Life Story Family and friends share their stories Yahel was a vivacious girl, a tomboy with dimples. She participated in the soccer team at the kibbutz, and loved gymnastics. She was an excellent student, even though she was unable to sit still in class. She particularly loved math. A girl who was on the ball and straightforward. Deeply attached to her parents but also silly. She was highly energetic. Always happy, always laughing and funny. Her English was excellent, and she was the family's translator. In the kibbutz she worked in the petting zoo, she was there at least twice a week. She loved walking in nature, swimming in the pool, and also putting on make-up and dressing up. The last year was the Bar Mitzvah year of the Shaldag (Kingfisher) class (the name of her year group in the kibbutz). She was involved in building the camp, in preparing the fire inscriptions, and she participated in the festive show. A love child with a place in her heart for everyone. The first to help, and the last to leave. Lianne, Noya and Yahel were murdered on Saturday morning, October 7, 2023. May her memory be blessed. Eulogy by grandmother Gill: Yahel was a bundle of energy, rarely sitting still for long. From riding her bike at breakneck speed around the kibbutz to playing football, singing and dancing to Tik Tok and YouTube with sister, Noiya and, on occasions her British cousins. Her sense of adventure never dulled as she got older, with sky diving, scuba diving and zip-lining in Thailand. She was a bright student, with a talent for Maths, and had a keen interest in the natural world. She had a telescope one year so she could look at space and the stars. She loved animals and would pet any that crossed her path, even ants and other insects had her attention. She was funny, mischievous and a joy to be with. We will never know what she could have become - a vet, an entertainer, a naturalist, maybe even the first Israeli woman in space. All we know is that there is a Yahel-shaped hole in our lives that can never be filled for her British family. Eulogy by Ian Brisley: Three years. Three years today, we speak your name. Three years today, our love the same. Three years today, though hearts still bleed, Your roots hold fast in Be'eri's seed. Three years have passed, though time stands still. Our broken hearts defy their will. The world recalls that dreadful date. Our world was changed by endless hate. 7th October 2023 That date the world now knows too well. For us, the day our heaven fell. A day that stole what none can see Our future, our hope, our family. Yahel Adventure danced within your eyes. You chased excitement beneath blue skies. You lived each day with fearless grace, A smile forever on your face. So fearless, full of youthful flame, No tomorrows ever looked the same. Three years today, we speak your name. Then hatred came in bandana green, To murder innocents yet unseen. They burned your home. They stole your breath. They wrapped your paradise in smoke and death. They came with fire. They came with hate. They came and sealed my sister's fate. They came with murder in their eyes, Beneath October's blood-red skies. Lianne reached out through Facebook's page: "Where's the army? " Fear and rage. Noiya turned to Instagram: "Help us, please... PLEASE... ANYONE! " These words escaped beyond the flames. Their desperate calls were all in vain. The world would hear their final plea. Their family heard it far too late. Too late for hope. Too late for prayer. Too late for those that should have been there. I searched for answers. I begged for truth. For something worthy of your youth. But silence met me every day. Impossible questions would not fade away. And so I watched what no brother ever should, To learn the truth where evil stood. I saw my family where they lay, Exactly as they fell that day. Those haunting scenes now live in me, Etched forever, so painfully. The truth we sought came at that cost, Revealing the three that we had lost. The home you built now swept away. Ancient olive groves once marked the way. Yet where they tore your world apart, An olive tree now guards your heart. Its roots grow deep in Be'eri's earth, A living sign of your love and worth. Though homes may fall, and songs grow still, Your memory climbs each distant hill. They stole your clarinet that day, Believing your song would fade away. But songs are carried, voice to voice, Where love remembers every choice. Be'eri wept through every street, Where empty homes and memories meet. Over a hundred lives were swept away. Each empty chair. Each silent room. Still bears the weight of grief and gloom. Yet faithful friends still held the line, Through shattered homes on borrowed time. The heart of Be'eri never died, For love refused to step aside. And slowly hope returns once more, Through open hearts and every door. My parents carry a mother's pain, A father's grief that will remain. We carry memories oceans wide, With all the tears we never cried. Now, when the world recalls that day, and speaks of terror, of smoke, of flame, We speak of music, of love, of friends. We proudly speak each precious name. Three years today, we speak your name. Lianne Brisley Sharabi My beloved sister. Noiya Sharabi My beloved niece. Yahel Sharabi My beloved niece. Loved beyond measure, Missed beyond words, Remembered forever, You three, our treasure. Back 03.10.2010 - 07.10.2023 13 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Amit Mann Life Story Family and friends share their stories The fifth daughter of David and Rachel Mann was born and raised in the town of Netivot. She was a lively girl, full of life, a beautiful and talented ray of sunshine. Blessed with an amazing voice and acting talent, she had a love for singing since she learned to speak and she sang at every opportunity. At the age of 16, she was the lead actress in a theater production of Anne of Green Gables. She attended Darca High School and graduated as a distinguished student of biology. When she was 11, her beloved father fell ill with cancer and spent three years in home hospice. Watching the doctors and nurses taking care of him, her answer to the question, "What do I want to be when I grow up?" became clear. Her father passed away when she was 14, and the following year, she started volunteering with Magen David Adom (MADA). She took out medical books from the town library, studied on her own, and later attended a medic first-aid course. By the age of 18, she completed an EMT-paramedic course, and her joy seemed to know no bounds when she successfully completed the course. She saw her profession as a mission and dedicated her life to it. She saved and helped countless people, with a special love for women in labor, helping support them to bring new lives into the world. She blended professionalism and sensitivity, humanity, and compassion, creating lasting connections with patients and their families even after treatment ended. Two months before her death, Amit was appointed as the head instructor for the paramedic course in the Negev region, at Ben-Gurion University in Be'er Sheva, making her the youngest head instructor in Israel. She planned to study medicine. About a year and a half ago, Amit began serving in medical reserves on Kibbutz Be’eri. She was on duty on Saturday the 7th of October, 2023, and, at 6:30 am, she woke up to the sound of air- raid sirens and rocket fire. Her partner, Ofir, left for his shift in Netivot and asked her to join him because he thought it was dangerous to stay on the kibbutz. Amit refused and said, "I need to stay here exactly because it's dangerous." The terrorists' infiltration began, and those first-responders who were wounded at the outset were brought to the dental clinic before 8 am. Amit, the on-call doctor Daniel, and nurse Nirit were called to the scene and started treating the wounded. Two other first-responders took cover between two parked cars and defended the clinic from dozens of terrorists who entrenched themselves in the area. Throughout, Amit stayed in touch with her family and MADA, pleading for rescue for the injured and providing consistent, professional updates on the patients’ conditions. At 1:50 pm, she messaged her family that the terrorists had returned to the clinic, and the reserve unit had no more ammunition. She wrote in the family WhatsApp group that they wouldn't survive this time, that she loved the family, and added, "Please be strong if something happens to me." In her final call at 2:13 pm, she told her family that the terrorists had shot her in the legs and murdered all the wounded. She didn't know that one of the patients had survived and would later testify that the terrorists returned and killed Amit in cold blood. The soldiers arrived too late and reported that Amit had applied a tourniquet to herself. Amit loved to watch the sunset. She arranged her schedule every day to make sure she would see the sunset, and wherever she was, she found the best viewpoint. She loved to laugh, listen to heavy-rock music, and travel the world. She was well loved by her friends and always surrounded by them. She loved life and lived it intensely. Above all, Amit loved to help people and save lives. She was twenty-two years old at her time of death. She was buried next to her father in Netivot. May her memory be blessed. Back 19.02.2001 - 07.10.2023 22 years old (Paramedic)

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Arik Kraunik Life Story Family and friends share their stories Arik. Ariko. Riko. Johnson. Born on August the 2nd, 1969, and died at the age of 54. He was the youngest son of Yochanan and Regina and brother of Racheli and Meir. Father of Chen, Tamar, Hagar, and Noa. Husband of Sigal. Jewish. Israeli. He was born in Kibbutz Be’eri. A person. Arik - a colorful and lively man. He brought energy and left a mark wherever he went. His loud voice was an expression of his heart and his endless generosity, and an attempt to reach as many people as possible, to unite as many people as possible. Arik’s smile, his main characteristic, was also like a loud voice covering long distances; “Everything can be done with a smile”, he would say, “everything can be done with love”. Arik. He wouldn’t sleep at his parents’ because communal sleeping was a social experience he loved. Indeed, what at the beginning was insistence on shared accommodation, turned into sharing as a core value during adulthood. He was an outstanding athlete who could play in any ball game. From a very young age, basketball was his favorite sport, and he was considered one of the best players in Be’eri. He could score three-pointers in basketball, in any weather condition. With or without shoes. On parquet or on tiles. He fully and deeply knew how to win and how to lose in every game – from basketball to chess. Racheli. His closest family connection was with you. You were born 11 months apart. You behaved like twins. He was your complement. You didn’t need words to understand each other’s needs. Your life paths ran parallel: you focused on education while Arik worked with youth; while you were Rosh Tzachi (head of local emergency squad), he was Lieutenant Colonel. You even took a basketball coaching assistant course together. You even shared chickenpox. Inseparable. They were a close-knit family, sharing endless childhood experiences together with Meir, his mother’s son from her previous marriage. Arik knew how to embrace him, just as his father Yochanan did, and thus, from one generation to the next, from father to son and daughter, Racheli and Arik grew up with giving as a core value. Arik. Already at the age of 16, started working in the Southern Command Preparatory Course (in agriculture and in the orchards), and by the age of 18, he was already managing the orchards. He opted for combat service, foregoing a year of civilian service, despite being an excellent athlete: he chose to enlist in the paratroopers. After the army and the “Great Post-Army Trip”, Arik returned to the kibbutz and found his calling in working with youth. He transformed the youth sector in the kibbutz. Arik was like a magnet to youth. They adored him. He truly understood them and would spend late-night hours chatting with them. Arik pushed boys and girls to utilize all their abilities. During the kibbutz’s rope bridge ceremonies, he would climb up with them, train with them, and always say: “Those who don’t succeed are those who don’t want to”. At one of the ceremonies, one of the girls broke a leg: he lifted her onto the rope bridge and helped her participate in the ceremony. Afterwards, Arik became the cultural coordinator of the kibbutz. He always succeeded in captivating everyone and expanding their horizons in his wake. Sigal, in 2000, you entered an online chat where you met your husband and the father of your children. Just like that. You joined a shared chat room and began messaging each other: Arik asked you where you saw yourself in ten years, and when you answered, “married with six kids”, he immediately asked you to call him. At first, you didn’t agree to give him your phone number, but you arranged a meeting at Ramat Gan National Park. Two hours before the date, you called him and said you weren’t going, and he said “Are you serious? I’m already here!”. It was your mother who convinced you to go. Arik told you about the youth and about what he was doing, and that convinced you. You told him you came from a religious home and his kibbutz was secular, and you didn’t know whether it could work, but a month later it was you who proposed to him, or as Arik used to say, “you didn’t ask me, you informed me”. Arik. Attentive partner. A relationship built on togetherness but also on individuality. Always supported his wife. He would never call Sigal by nicknames like “baby”, but he would send her messages like “My dear and beloved wife, thank you for being you and for what you do for the family”. Who needs nicknames with this kind of message? In 2001, their first son, Chen, was born. Arik, who was very close to his father, had always wished to name his son after his father, and so it was. “Chen”, named after Yohanan. Chen and Arik, Arik and Chen. Basketball games until dusk. Hours of driving, hours of training and games. Analyzing moves: both in the basketball court and in life situations. A year later, in 2002, Tamar was born. When she was born, Arik told Sigal he could now relax because he had his girls taking care of him. She was jumping around and was a shining star to her father’s proud eyes, and just a few weeks ago, she finished officer training, and everyone stood up and applauded. Arik dreamed of this moment, to call her "the commander" and salute the new officer of the Border Police. In 2005, Hagar was born. The wise girl of the house, that’s how he called her. His partner for Hapoel Be’er Sheva’s games and for watching basketball games together. When she went together to Chen’s games, she would analyze each move. She would call Arik when she watched the games separately to talk about the moves. Arik and Hagar, father and daughter; she learnt how to be a coach from the best. Noa, the little sister, was born in 2009. A great volleyball player to a proud father. In the past two years, he spent a lot of time with her, often driving her to school trips. Everyone remembers her dad: the funny one who played around with the kids. Arik. Father to four. Father and coach all in one. Always achieving accomplishments with a smile. Arik. A joyful man who loved music nights. He loved the old songs of Israel, like Arik Einstein’s. He knew all the lyrics by heart. Over time, thanks to Sigal, he also came to appreciate The Revivo Project. On his 50th birthday, he organized a large and enjoyable public singing event, true to his habit of not taking himself too seriously. In March 2019, Arik took on the role of Rosh Tzachi. Racheli, who was then the head of Tzachi, knew that Arik was the most suitable person for the position. He elevated the level of security for the community and ensured that elite units would come to train in Be’eri. He was Rosh Tzachi in the elite school in Be’eri. In April 2022, Arik was recognized for his dedication by the commander of the Gaza Brigade. Members of Be’eri, as well as the temporary residents and soldiers who arrived at the kibbutz, knew that Arik took care of them consistently. Temporary residents recall how Arik welcomed them into the community, opened his home to them, and hosted meals together with Sigal, always with a smile. He treated soldiers as if they were his own children. Free access to the pool, plenty of food, they knew they could reach out, and he would take care of everything they needed. Arik, on Shabbat morning, you took your gun and the M16, and then you left. Before that, you looked at Sigal and said goodbye to her. It wasn’t like you to linger for a moment before the door. Arik. Ariko. Riko. Johnson. Dead at 54. Youngest son of Yochanan and Regina. Brother of Racheli and Meir. Father of Chen, Tamar, Hagar, and Noa. Husband of Sigal. Jewish. Israeli. Born in Kibbutz Be’eri and will remain in Kibbutz Be’eri forever. In Kibbutz Be’eri. The first to take the lead, the first to fall. A person. A family of five souls, a basketball team left without its coach. He was a man, and he is no more. May his memory be blessed. Back 02.08.1969 - 07.10.2023 54 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Lianne Sharabi Life Story Family and friends share their stories Lianne was born in February 1975, in the bedroom of Gill and Pete Brisley. She was the third child, after Neil and Ian. Steve was born after her. In her youth, the two older brothers had already left home to study. Lianne and Steve grew up together and were good friends. Over the years, the siblings were scattered across the globe. Neil in Canada, Ian in Tenerife, Lianne in Israel. Steve remains close to his parents in Bristol, and today in Wales. Throughout the years, Lianne kept in touch with all the family members. They often visited each other. Christmas was the holiday when the family would reunite, and Lianne traveled there with the family every year, except during the Corona period. Lianne studied at Mangotsfield School and excelled especially in music. In her teenage years, she found herself various jobs: a vegetable store, an old people's home, and helping young people with disabilities. After she finished her studies, she worked for a short time in a law firm, then she decided to travel the world. Lianne went with her brother to France, found a job and traveled there for about three months. In April 1995 she turned 20, and she decided to try the kibbutz experience. She contacted an office in London that recruited volunteers for kibbutzim. A group of ten volunteers was formed, who met for the first time at the airport. With them she came to Be’eri. The plan was to stay there for three months. But Lianne would stay a little, actually a lot, longer. "I met Eli after several months, and I stayed for him, because of him," she said on the show "Excuse me for asking" on local television. Lianne returned to England, but after a few weeks Eli knocked on her door and proposed to her. In July 2000, Eli and Lianne got married in a modest ceremony in Bristol. Two weeks later, they celebrated their wedding at a party in Be’eri. The parents accepted the new situation, according to her "because you don't argue with a girl in love". But there was longing. For the family, the language, the humor, the English mentality, the sense of belonging, the beer. Lianne made sure to come home to England once or twice a year. Still, Be’eri became her home. Lianne's first job was at the grocery store. She was amazing with her diligence, the dexterity of her fingers on the register, and the way she remembered everything about everyone. It wasn't long before she was recruited to the printing press, where she worked for 22 years - at first in the ticket/card department, then in accounting. When the girls grew up, she allowed herself to go to school, and worked with the dentist in the treatment room and managing appointments, funny and laughing at everything. Especially at her voluntary exile in a Middle Eastern country plagued by irresponsible politicians. Lianne was an honorary member of the local Anglos, a large group of volunteers who found their homes in the kibbutz. Together they had shared meals without the natives, their partners. Occasionally, Lianne could be coaxed onstage to play the saxophone or sing from the bottom of her heart. In 2007 Noya was born, and Yahel three years after that. The girls were the center of Lianne's universe. She took care of them with devotion and protected them like a lioness. It goes without saying that she didn't forget to laugh at them from time to time, because "why would you have girls if you can't laugh at them". The girls were blessed with a special mix of Yemeni-European beauty, and Lianne made sure to educate them in the spirit of the United Kingdom, including manners and courtesy. Homework was mandatory. Lianne, Noya and Yahel were murdered on Saturday morning, October 7, 2023. May her memory be blessed. Introduction: Lianne was the third of us Brisley children, the first female born in our direct line for 100 years - unique, rare, special.....bloody right she was!! It went, Neil, Ian, Lianne and Stephen by age, but "Lianne and the boys" from then onwards. She was the named one, always. In the family home, the three children’s bedrooms were, the box room, the top room........and yes, of course, Lianne's room. Special then, and so very special now. Eulogy by brother Ian: Lianne being 7 years younger than myself created the Neil & Ian, and Lianne & Stephen pairings, so Stephen was the "Play together brother"; Neil the "Grown-up advice" brother, and me, the "How do I get out of this trouble" brother. I left the UK to go backpacking when Li was 15, and I returned to find a woman had appeared. A funny woman, ready to spread her wings, and so to Israel she flew. My working in Arabia meant contact with sis became difficult but there was always Christmas and that became more special every year because of this. Eli, then Noiya, then Yaheli appeared to complete Lianne, and her reason for living became so much deeper. Our family's spread across the globe became wider, but our love for each other became deeper and the rare meetings more special. All our families grew: Julie, my wife, gave Lianne cousins in Lewis and Tyler; Cathy, Neil's wife, gave Liam and Ellen; and Audrey, Steve's wife, gave Caitlin and Emma - the connection between us all so special then, and oh so very special now. Lianne, my little sister, thank you for all you gave to me. You are forever part of me and mine and I expect you to be the same special, my only little sister when we eventually meet again. Eulogy by brother Neil: Lianne stayed with me for a few months in early 1995 in Rennes, France, as a ‘warm up’ for bigger travels. She got a job assisting the Dean of my business school and came to know many of my international students and enjoy university-like times. Lianne joined our student ski trip to the Alps and decided she needed somewhere warmer… Cathy and I stayed with Lianne on Be’eri for 12 days in May 1996, and I have spent 27 years explaining to anybody who will listen, what a unique place is Be’eri, where Lianne chose to make her life among so many friends and new family. Lianne and Eli visited us in France for our wedding, and later in Canada for holidays. Cathy particularly remembers Lianne treating our young kids in the same way we did. As people. No baby voices, no patronization, just talking to small humans. We enjoyed several UK family Christmases together and the Summer 2014 entire family celebration in France with all eight Brisley cousins, including Ian and Julie’s boys Lewis and Tyler, and our own son Liam. Too much time passed before my 2016 Be’eri visit, and our planned family 2021 Bat Mitzvah trip went online. But in recent years, WhatsApp meant I could call Lianne much more often. Usually, she would be walking Moka around the Kibbutz and we would laugh most of the time, as Lianne ‘tells it like it is’ and does not hold back on her sarcasm and humour. This summer’s Bat Mitzvah for Yahel was so memorable. Lianne always generous with everybody. Fabulous to see Noiya and Yahel, Steve and Audrey’s Caitlin and Emma, together with our own Ellen, as the five girl cousins danced together following onscreen Tik Tok moves, sang together, had Be’eri swimming pool games and battles together with Nanny and Grandad and family splashing in the water. Seeing Tash and other faithful friends and family on Be’eri at that time helps us know how much Lianne, Eli, Noiya, and Yahel have been loved. Eulogy by brother Steve: Lianne was my big sister. Big in every way - her love, her personality, her attitude and her mouth!! We shared toys, games and a bedroom with bunk beds when we were small - we would often talk after our parents had turned our light out and then pretend to be asleep when they came in to tell us to be quiet! When sharing a room on a family holiday in Scotland, we would argue about who got the bed next to the window, as we both knew it was the best vantage point to see the rabbits that would gather in the garden there early each morning. To this day, whenever I see rabbits in the wild, I remember those mornings, just me and Lianne, crouched on the bed in our pyjamas, straining to get the best view. Throughout our teenage years, we would fight & bicker and support & help each other in equal measure, like any siblings do, but we always knew that we could rely on each other. Even when I was being that REALLY annoying little brother and Lianne was swatting me away like a mosquito, we both knew that ANYONE who tried to come between us had better be ready to face an unbreakable team. After Lianne left home for Be'eri, although the distance between us increased in kilometres, it somehow brought us closer together. We would message each other, speak often, sharing the day to day details of our lives just as easily as if we were sat across the table from each other drinking the tea we both loved! Through the visits that Lianne, Eli, Noiya and Yahel made to Bristol and, later, South Wales for Christmas, Easter and summer holidays, our bond grew ever stronger as our young families shared festive and family occasions. So many happy memories were created and they have comforted me with love and light in recent dark days. Although I can't believe Lianne's gone, I also can't believe that I was lucky enough to have had her as my sister but also, as my friend. I'll see you again sis. But not yet. Not yet. Eulogy by father Pete: I saw Lianne born on the double bed in our bedroom at 64 Mangotsfield Road in the early hours of 20th February 1975. She was a good child and wonderful company for her brother, Stephen, born 19 months later. Lianne was a pretty good student at school, although usually only in the subjects she wanted to be, which didn't include Maths! She was a gifted musician, beginning with the recorder when very young, before finding her way to her favourite instrument, the clarinet, in her teens. And, as all who have seen her perform at many kibbutz events over the years will know, she also loved to sing. As a teenager she was something of a rebel, but always very popular and she made friends easily, with friendships starting at nursery and school, with Kirsty and Sophie, enduring throughout her adult life. She wanted to travel the world with a friend, who quickly dropped out and so, not wanting to travel alone, she applied to be a kibbutz volunteer for three months. After 3 months at Be’eri, Lianne called home to say that "She had met a man and was staying on…and on…and on…", so I sent Gill on a mission to check out this man, Eli. Upon her return Gill said she had some good news and some bad news about him and said "He IS lovely BUT.....he's a Manchester United fan!". But seeing how happy Eli made my little girl, I was prepared to forgive him his poor taste in football team! Engagement and marriage soon followed, with a wonderful wedding and party in Bristol, followed by a trip to Be’eri for an Israeli "wedding party", with a feast, much drinking and dancing. As is Israeli tradition (or so we were told!!), Gill and I ended up in the pool, fully clothed followed by many others. It was obvious, from our many trips there over the course of 28 years, that Lianne was truly loved by so many on the kibbutz. It was a joy to see this in person as recently as July, when we watched Lianne's great joy in celebrating Yahel's Bat Mitzvah and her pride in Noiya's role in arranging it. Rest in peace, Lianne. I miss you so much now and forever. Eulogy by mother Gill: Our Lianne was the light of our family’s life. She had a wonderful caring nature. She would help anyone in trouble, be it physical, emotional or financial, she would be there for them. She was funny, with a dry sense of humour - sometimes irreverent, but never malicious. She fully embraced the life on Be’eri and made many friends over the years. She was a wonderful mother to Noiya and Yahel and a great support for Eli. Her love for her parents and the rest of the family here was always apparent. She never failed to keep in contact with us and we enjoyed hearing of her life in Israel and the adventures she shared with Eli, Noiya and Yahel. We will miss our girl to the end of our days and keep her in our hearts forever, tucked away with the fondest memories of her 48 years. Goodnight, sleep tight sweetheart. Eulogy by Ian Brisley: Three years. Three years today, we speak your name. Three years today, our love the same. Three years today, though hearts still bleed, Your roots hold fast in Be'eri's seed. Three years have passed, though time stands still. Our broken hearts defy their will. The world recalls that dreadful date. Our world was changed by endless hate. 7th October 2023 That date the world now knows too well. For us, the day our heaven fell. A day that stole what none can see Our future, our hope, our family. Lianne Just nineteen years when Be'eri called. Among its fields, your heart enthralled. An English girl, yet wholly theirs, Through shared tomorrows, hopes and prayers. You built a family of your own, Where kindness flourished, love had grown. You sang with joy, your laughter free, Your clarinet in harmony. Music drifted through your days. Friendship filled so many ways. You built your life so rich and true. You became a part of Be'eri too. So fearless, full of youthful flame, No tomorrows ever looked the same. Three years today, we speak your name. Then hatred came in bandana green, To murder innocents yet unseen. They burned your home. They stole your breath. They wrapped your paradise in smoke and death. They came with fire. They came with hate. They came and sealed my sister's fate. They came with murder in their eyes, Beneath October's blood-red skies. Lianne reached out through Facebook's page: "Where's the army? " Fear and rage. Noiya turned to Instagram: "Help us, please... PLEASE... ANYONE! " These words escaped beyond the flames. Their desperate calls were all in vain. The world would hear their final plea. Their family heard it far too late. Too late for hope. Too late for prayer. Too late for those that should have been there. I searched for answers. I begged for truth. For something worthy of your youth. But silence met me every day. Impossible questions would not fade away. And so I watched what no brother ever should, To learn the truth where evil stood. I saw my family where they lay, Exactly as they fell that day. Those haunting scenes now live in me, Etched forever, so painfully. The truth we sought came at that cost, Revealing the three that we had lost. The home you built now swept away. Ancient olive groves once marked the way. Yet where they tore your world apart, An olive tree now guards your heart. Its roots grow deep in Be'eri's earth, A living sign of your love and worth. Though homes may fall, and songs grow still, Your memory climbs each distant hill. They stole your clarinet that day, Believing your song would fade away. But songs are carried, voice to voice, Where love remembers every choice. Be'eri wept through every street, Where empty homes and memories meet. Over a hundred lives were swept away. Each empty chair. Each silent room. Still bears the weight of grief and gloom. Yet faithful friends still held the line, Through shattered homes on borrowed time. The heart of Be'eri never died, For love refused to step aside. And slowly hope returns once more, Through open hearts and every door. My parents carry a mother's pain, A father's grief that will remain. We carry memories oceans wide, With all the tears we never cried. Now, when the world recalls that day, and speaks of terror, of smoke, of flame, We speak of music, of love, of friends. We proudly speak each precious name. Three years today, we speak your name. Lianne Brisley Sharabi My beloved sister. Noiya Sharabi My beloved niece. Yahel Sharabi My beloved niece. Loved beyond measure, Missed beyond words, Remembered forever, You three, our treasure. Back 20.2.1975 - 07.10.2023 48 years old