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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

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Yasmin Bira Life Story Family and friends share their stories Yasmin was born in 1971 in Buenos Aires to Leon and Dora, an identical twin to Dalia and younger sister to Dana. Their parents instilled in them Zionist values and a love for their homeland, and, despite the financial difficulty, they sent Yasmin and her sisters to the private Jewish school, Golda Meir. At the age of 19, after completing high school with a focus on the sciences, the twins decided to make Aliyah and settle in Kibbutz Sde Boker, eventually drawing their entire family to follow them. Yasmin, a new immigrant, improved her broken Hebrew, adapted to kibbutz life, and at the age of 20, despite being officially exempt from military service, chose to volunteer. She joined a Nahal unit that would settle a new community in Israel’s North. In that same year, 1992, Oron, following his release from the army and after working to save some money, set out on a post-army journey: South America, trekking, beautiful landscapes, meeting new people. He worked in construction and as a roof installer. The world opened up to him. Two more years passed. Yasmin completed her service and moved to Jerusalem to live in the student dormitories. She studied in a preparatory program to prepare herself for a degree in humanities, but after a year she chose to discontinue this path, and returned to the kibbutz. Likewise, after a year-and-a-half-long journey, Oron returned to his kibbutz with his work cut out for him: he needed to take his matriculation exams, complete a degree in computer science, and integrate into work at the kibbutz factory. He would keep his love for traveling and adventure, along with his zest for life, throughout his life. In the dining hall of Kibbutz Be'eri, as they washed dishes over the large kibbutz sinks, the two met. Yasmin, 26. Oron, 29. She’d come to the kibbutz as a farmhand. Her plan was to work for a year and save some money, but she found herself, two years later, under the chuppah next to a farm boy who called her "The Light of My Life”, and didn’t cease making her laugh until his dying day. "Dad's humor" is what his children dubbed his jokes characterized by wordplays. In 2000, Tair was born, followed by Yahav four years later, and three years later, Tahel. A family was formed. Yasmin nursed all three until a late age, holding them close to her. Even the mischievous, stormy Oron became a dedicated and gentle father, a solid support for his children. In the parental division, common among many couples, Yasmin emphasized the concern for their children’s mental well-being and inner peace, while Oron encouraged resilience. If one of the girls would call home crying from an overnight school trip, saying she wants to come home, Oron would encourage her to remain, not to give in. Upon her return, he’d hug her and she’d invariably say, "Dad, it's good I stayed." Years passed; Oron advanced further and further in his work at the print shop in the field of information security and in the pursuit of the good life. Occasionally, he’d steal Yahav away, and together they’d try out Tel Aviv’s newest gourmet restaurant. Yasmin also successfully integrated into the printing factory in the coordination, production, and marketing department, and was considered a meticulous and visionary worker. But alongside her work, she always made sure to reserve half of her time for volunteering: a daycare center for toddlers in Netivot, emotional support for single mothers, integration of marginalized populations—anything she possibly could. Anything in the realm of emotional well-being. Both with the environment and with her children. Her profession as an accountant manager she learned amidst work, life, raising children, reading books, and transitioning from one diet guru to another. "She's afraid of the Sivan Ofiri," Oron joked when she settled on the diet regime of this particular weight-loss coach. Yasmin would speak openly about emotions and weaknesses, and she stood out for her candor and for her ability to see the other. Oron, for whom communication with the children was equally important, found additional ways: sports and fitness, biking and scuba diving, adventures and trips. Yasmin was responsible for the budget, and Oron for spending it. Yasmin sought to save, and Oron responded, "You only live once." Oron cooked, Yasmin baked. Oron adored the musical Banai clan, especially Ehud Banai. Yasmin adored the soccer star Lionel Messi. Oron didn't miss a single concert, she never missed a game. When Messi lost a game, Oron and the kids knew it was a day of mourning and a good idea to keep their distance. Anyone close to the family knew of their special bond. They knew that each member of the family preferred to be with the others – family taking precedence over everything. Five people, and Poncho, their dog, who was a constant companion to the family for 12 years until he, too, was murdered — all intertwined with one another. They insisted on shared meals, shared trips, language, and an “internal” family language and humor. A family where each was for all and all for one. Now only one remains. Three months before the skies fell, Yasmin and Oron went to Portugal for a couples' vacation. Missing their children pushed them to act: they entered a local tattoo parlor and requested identical tattoos. When they emerged, they sent a photo to the kids: on their outstretched arms, the children could read their names engraved on their parents’ skin: Tair, Yahav, Tahel. On Friday, October 6, 2023, the family went out to dinner and a movie. Yahav's girlfriend joined them. When they parted, Yasmin and Oron went home with the two girls, while Yahav and his girlfriend headed to his apartment on the kibbutz. On Shabbat, at 10:58, the last sign of life was heard. Tair called Yahav from their safe room. Through the phone were heard screams, gunfire, silence, and then words in Arabic. Eleven days later, all of their bodies were found in the field next to the kibbutz. Rachel the poet wrote in a poem called "My Dead” about the living dead, the dead in whom death will never thrust its sharp knife. From a distance of years, she wrote: "In whom death's sharp knife has nothing left to kill. They alone are left me, they are with me still At the turn of highways, when the sun is low, They come round in silence, going where I go Ours is a true pact, a tie no time can sever. Only what I've lost is what I keep forever.” (Translation by A.Z. Foreman) Yahav has been left with an overwhelming legacy. May Yasmin’s memory be blessed. Back 04.11.1971 - 07.10.2023 51 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Avi Mor Life Story Family and friends share their stories Avi and his twin sister, Ya'el, may she live a long life, were born in the summer of 1962 at the Assuta Hospital in Tel Aviv. Their parents, Voh and Shula Marnstein were Holocaust survivors. Changing their name to Mor and later adding a younger brother, Boaz, the family lived on Katzenelson Street in Givatayim, a small, neighborhood-oriented city where Avi grew up. Avi and Ya'el were good-looking children, and at age six, they were chosen to lead a promotional campaign for the "Sela" fashion brand. Their pictures adorned newspapers, buses, and billboards. Ya'el, shy and reserved, soon gave up modeling, but Avi continued and even excelled. He quickly learned the angles at which he should be photographed, confidently smiling and charming, and conquering the runway. At 9, he fell in love with Na'ama, a beautiful girl from his neighborhood, from whom he also received his first kiss. After finishing elementary school, Avi continued his studies at the Kfar HaYarok boarding school, returning home for holidays and festivals. The separation from his twin sister Ya'el, who continued to study near their home, was difficult, but the two remained close, and as adults, they would dream of growing old together and taking care of one another. Avi was physically active and a skilled cyclist. In his youth, he would ride extensively, even as far as Tel Aviv and the road leading to Jerusalem. The shelf in his room was full of trophies he had won in national competitions. As an adult, sports continued to be an obsession, especially the gym and tennis. But Avi was also known for his intellectual curiosity and he devoured books of all kinds. He was also a cinema enthusiast, watching countless movies, dramas, and comedies, which explains his acting and mimicking abilities. Among his friends, he was known as the joker of the group. Avi was also interested in philosophy, Buddhism, self-improvement, and spiritual development. And, like many of his peers, Avi was also a scout. When he was 16, the family went on vacation to Kibbutz Be'eri to watch a tennis match in which Avi’s brother Boaz participated. During this vacation, Avi met Tmira, the kibbutz member he fell in love with. Their love transcended geographical distances, and they were considered inseparable. While in the army, Avi would travel to Tmira by bus, crossing the country from north to south. Avi served as an infantry medic in the 51st Battalion of the Golani Brigade. The sights and experiences deeply affected him, yet he debated whether to sign on to the army as a career. In the end, he chose to marry Tmira and move to the kibbutz, where they had three children: Roi, Gil, and Tomer. During the first Lebanon War, while expecting their third child, Avi was drafted into the reserves and stationed at the Beaufort Castle. The events of this war traumatized him, and he returned from reserves a different person. He carried with him a pain that was beyond his capacity to manage, and this affected all aspects of his life, including divorce from Tmira and his relationship with his third son, which he maintained inconsistently. Despite that, Tomer remembers beautiful shared moments: nature walks, drinking sweet and hot tea together, camping, bowling games, trips to Eilat, tasty soups Avi would cook in winter, and every Saturday evening, fun ball games with Roi, Gil, and his father. Playing paddleball on the beach in Tel Aviv, building giant sand sculptures, and always making sure to send Ya'el photos. Avi loved animals. He collected pets and would sometimes be found caring for up to six dogs or a similar number of cats in his home. When it became too much for him, he would search for homes for each of them. At one point, he was raising two dogs, taking them for walks outside the kibbutz. One night, one of the dogs was hit by a car, which affected him deeply. He buried the dog and planted cacti and decorative plants nearby. Even when he was no longer raising animals in his home, he continued to feed cats on the streets and leave bowls of water in the street with extraordinary sensitivity and compassion. Later, Avi worked as a tennis coach on the kibbutz and for many years in construction, caring for the kibbutz vegetation, and finally, at the car wash. Over the past year, Avi experienced a severe emotional crisis. Old pains exacted a toll. He became more withdrawn and turned into a more reserved person. Nevertheless, he sought the good and the beauty in the world, even when it was challenging and burdensome for him. He very much wanted to rehabilitate himself and be part of society. He loved to repair and renovate things, and to tried to express himself through his attempts to improve the world around him, whether by caring for animals or by planting many plants in the kibbutz and beyond, in the cemetery, and near the garage where he worked. Poet Yehuda Amichai wrote: "When I die, I want only women from the burial society to treat me and do with my body as their pretty eyes see fit, and clean my ears of the last words I heard, and wipe my lips of the last words I said, and erase from my eyes the things I saw, and smooth my brow of worry…” On October 7th, Avi was murdered by the sons of iniquity for no wrongdoing of his own along with many other kibbutz members. We pray that the angels of heaven receive the dear face of Avi, wipe his ears from the terrible last words he heard, wipe his lips from the last pain he uttered, and erase from his eyes and from all of our eyes the sights he saw – may he rest in peace and love. May his memory be blessed. Back 27.08.1962 - 07.10.2023 61 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Haggi Avni Life Story Family and friends share their stories Haggi was born to Pnina and Amotz Avni in Be'eri fifty years ago, on the eve of Rosh Hashanah 1973. He was the second child – the younger brother to Adi and older brother to Yahel. After his father remarried, he had three step-siblings – Omri, Ayelet, and Chenni, and two half-siblings – Dandan and Sahar. Chenni, Haggi’s next-door neighbor was also murdered on October 7, together with his wife Rinat and their children Allon and Ido. Pnina met Amotz in Beit Govrin, where kibbutz members came to help new settlements. She joined him in Be'eri where they built their home. Shmulik, Haggi’s grandfather, was among the founders of Be'eri. The two had a special bond that continued into the next generation. Haggi was a handsome boy – and a handful. A good boy with a heart of gold. He always volunteered for everything. He loved sports, especially basketball. He was surrounded by friends. In school he dealt with dyslexia and ADD, in the days when such disorders were unknown and were not treated. His father was often called to school to calm him down. As he grew older, he learned to deal with these difficulties and was loved by all. Haggi was drafted when he was 18, and served as a combat soldier in the armored infantry. When on duty in Judea and Samaria, and the soldiers were required to enter civilians’ home, he would not let anyone hurt them. Later he served in an elite intelligence unit and was stationed in Lebanon. He concealed his whereabouts from his mother, not wanting to worry her. It was only years later that he told her what he had been through: One day, when they were distributing rations to the units, his AMC got stuck and no one noticed. His commanding officer continued his rounds and Haggi remained behind. Fortunately, he saw a Lebanese man approaching and, of course, managed to convince the man to help him out, and even bring help to get the vehicle moving. He always managed to get out of trouble. Following his military service, Haggi went to Eilat, where he was a successful scuba-diving instructor. It was there, at the Dolphin Reef, that he exhibited his sensitivity by identifying people afraid of water and diving, helping them overcome their fears and difficulties and emerging empowered with a sense of success. Adi also worked at the reef, where she was editing films about marine life. While diving and teaching, Haggi also sent messages that somehow found their way to Adi. They fell in love, became a couple, and married three years later. They lived in Eilat, then moved to Tel Aviv. They traveled to the Far East and Mexico. They returned to Be'eri a year after their wedding. When they settled on the kibbutz, Haggi worked in the printing house. But the closed quarters and fluorescent lights didn’t agree with him. He loved the land and preferred working in the open air, and this led to "Hagigi", the gardening and event-designing business he established. He loved this work and woke up each morning with a smile on his face. He designed most of the yards and gardens in Be'eri and created the sets for all the holiday celebrations. He bought old carts and wagons, refurbished them, and turned them into flower beds, placing them all over the kibbutz. His handiwork was everywhere. When the kibbutz was being plagued by the incendiary balloons launched from Gaza, Haggi was the first to go and extinguish the fire in the burning fields. Haggi and Adi’s love was a great one. They complemented each other and raised a wonderful family. Their firstborn, Reef, was born in 2005, and he was followed by Yam (2006), Bar (2009), Gev (2012) and Ileel (2015). Haggi was an exemplary family man, able to foster each child’s talent and abilities. Reef is a photographer, and the two of them traveled all over Israel, especially to the Dead Sea. They even went to Iceland for 10 days of photography. Yam is an actor and participated in plays staged by the Beer Sheva Theater. Haggi came to every performance, never missing a show. He also came to every soccer game in which Bar and Gev played, cheering them on and supporting them. He said that Ileel was the gift that the family received after four boys. He adored her. The family loved traveling together and going on picnics. They went on a two-and-a-half-month trip to Thailand and India. Adi was the planner. All the rest was Haggi’s domain. Spontaneous and flowing, he befriended the locals and led the family on their adventures. Haggi was special - very creative. He was always the first to volunteer and fulfill any request. He’d bring home junk and turn it into art. His creative style and his aesthetics as gardener and event designer were evident and left his imprint of endless generosity. Their house, at the edge of the Kerem neighborhood, was open to friends, neighbors, pre-army volunteers, soldiers – everyone felt free to come, enjoy each other’s company over chilled watermelon, a stack of waffles, or a barbeque. He’d pamper you whenever he could. He was known as “Haggi will do it.” Whatever the occasion, be it funeral, wedding, holidays, Haggi did it. He was essential to any and all productions, always having that magic touch that smoothed out the rough edges. He was never in the limelight, always behind the scenes, efficient and modest. On his fiftieth birthday, Haggi was in Iceland with Reef, capturing the northern lights. This meant that the party was postponed until he got back. On Friday, October 6, the whole family got together to celebrate. The sirens wailed the next morning. The shooting began. Haggi, shoes in hand, ran outside, calling back to Adi to lock the door. He was part of the preparedness unit and never thought twice – he went to fight for his home. Wounded, he managed to call Adi and say goodbye. Haggi defended the land he loved, bravely sacrificing himself. May his memory be a blessing. Back 26.09.1973 - 07.10.2023 50 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Mila Cohen Life Story Family and friends share their stories Three members of three generations of the Cohen family—grandmother, son, and granddaughter, Yona, Ohad, and Mila—each had different birthdays, but they all died on the same day, October 7, 2023. Mila was born on December 29, 2022, bringing light and love into her home. Over nine months, everyone enjoyed the family harmony that Mila created around her. A feeling of family wholeness, until that cursed Shabbat. On Shabbat morning, Ohad, Sandra, and their three children entered their secure room. Ohad fought to defend his family when Hamas terrorists tried to break through the door. His calls for help were not answered. Sandra was severely wounded. Sons Liam and Dylan survived, but Mila and Ohad were murdered. May her memory be blessed. Prayer - Avraham Chalfi I don’t know the words from which prayer is born. All words are lost to my voice, have become a mute darkness. But my eyes still see the spark in the eyes of a child, and my eyes still see: A star of unmatched brilliance, and worried-faced mothers steering their small ones to the light. What will be with them? What will be? Listen to their breathing joy in the spring, which seems as if it will never end. I will bow before the role of God even if he has vanished from my eyes. Do no wrong to the innocent, they do not know why lightning strikes a fruit-bearing tree. Do no wrong to the innocent. Back 29.12.2022 - 07.10.2023 9 month old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Idan Baruch Life Story Family and friends share their stories Idan was born on August 16, 2003, to Roni and Tami, and younger brother to Guy and Sahar. Later, the family welcomed Niv, the youngest brother. Idan’s sudden arrival caught his parents off guard, and he was born at home in Be’eri—a fact he took great pride in throughout his life. His brothers, Guy and Sahar, got to meet him even before the trip to the hospital, which forged a special bond between them. Idan was a joyful, loving child. The boys would often tease their mother, who had hoped for a daughter but ended up with four sons. Over the years, Idan became the link that held his brothers together. They would watch Japanese anime, play Dungeons & Dragons and chess together. Even when Sahar was traveling in South America, they continued their chess games, letting the family know that Sahar was reachable. In the dining hall, Idan would clear his grandfather Yitzhak’s dishes, saying, “You took my tray when I was little, now I’m taking yours.” Idan was part of the Nofar class. He was always on the move, full of rhythm, and loved drumming on anything within reach. He was an avid reader, particularly of fantasy books like Harry Potter . When he was younger, Sahar would read entire books to him, and when he grew older, he took on that role, reading to Niv. He was rarely seen without a book in hand and preferred traveling by train because it was easier to read than on a bus. After finishing high school, where he earned his full diploma, Idan planned to continue studying. He was torn between studying nutrition and pastry making, as he had a deep love for baking. He had a talent for cooking and baking, especially desserts, which he often made for the family. Idan had many interests and hobbies. He was a dedicated member of the No'ar Oved V'lomed youth movement, where he later became a devoted guide. He was hard-working, holding a job at La m'davesh , the kibbutz bike shop, where he was well-liked and highly regarded. He loved the outdoors, participated in a hiking club, and was part of a rowing team during his teenage years, where he stood out for his helpful nature and his sunny disposition. After high school, Idan embarked on a year of community service in Karkur, as part of the Shiluvim commune, specializing in canine therapy—a field that deeply resonated with him as a lifelong dog lover. He later moved to a commune in Haifa, where he worked closely with children on the autism spectrum. He created a special bond with them, caring deeply for their well-being and feeling a great sense of responsibility towards them. Both before and after his year of pre-army service, Idan was committed to guiding others, showing kindness and sensitivity to the needs of those around him. As his military service approached, Idan returned to the youth movement, joining the Nahal "Juno" group. He was assigned to the army’s soldier/teachers' course. Idan dreamed of a future that combined his love for the culinary arts and a life in Be’eri. On weekends, he cherished time with his family, which is how he spent the day on Saturday, October 7th: at his mother’s home with his beloved brother Sahar and their dog Pepsi. During that dark Sabbath, Idan was injured, and Sahar tended to him throughout. Even in his final moments, Idan’s thoughts were with his family and neighbors. We will always remember his kind heart, his sensitivity to others, and we will never stop missing him. Back 16.08.2003 - 07.10.2023 20 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Itai Svirsky Life Story Family and friends share their stories Itai was murdered on January 13. His body was recovered and brought back to Israel. On Friday, December 6, we are bringing him home to be buried in the soil of Kibbutz Be’eri, in the place reserved for him — between his parents and next to his grandfather, Bamik. Itai was born on Kibbutz Be’eri on February 17, 1985, the third child of Rafi, a member of the Garin "Abir", and Orit, daughter of Aviva and Bemik Sela, founders of the kibbutz. Orit and Rafi raised his older siblings, Merav and Yonatan, in Givatayim until the kibbutz decided to abolish communal sleeping arrangements. They returned to Be’eri a few months before Itai was born. Later, the youngest son, Yuval, joined the family. The young Savirsky family was passionately committed to the kibbutz, much like the founding generation, yet with a critical eye and a creative, open-minded approach to change. They held key responsibilities: Orit in print management and the social sphere, and Rafi in economy. Itai’s human devotion and his constant desire to be there for others was a trait he gleaned from home. Itai was a curious and sensitive child with golden curls and a timid half-smile. Even in his childhood photos, one could see his kind eyes and observant, empathetic gaze. Alongside his sensitivity, his athletic talents stood out from a young age, beginning with the Be’eri mini-basketball team, continuing through Dov’s tennis lessons, and on to soccer—a great talent that wasn’t fully realized, perhaps due to his equal knack for getting injured during play. His friends in the "Tapuach" class recall him being a level above everyone else, always teaching us a thing or two on the field. Beyond his talent and enjoyment of sports, Itai was a devoted fan of Maccabi Tel Aviv, spending much time with friends and family watching soccer games. In his teenage years, Itai’s love for music blossomed. He studied voice training, enjoyed playing guitar and piano, and especially loved the works of Eviatar Banai and Amir Lev. Merav describes their family as a "house of boys," with sibling spats that was actually a way the brothers expressed their care for one another. Itai’s second home was with his grandparents, Aviva and Bemik—a place where he could simply be himself, free of questions and demands. He spent nearly every afternoon there, enjoying his grandmother’s plates of fruit and cakes until his parents returned from work. Saturdays added his grandfather’s fries and salad, and many cousins playing on the lawn outside. Another significant home was Aviva’s apartment near Habima Auditorium in Tel Aviv, a family destination for weekend visits and annual vacations filled with the excitement of the big city. Meals at Aharoni’s Chinese restaurant, Itai’s favorite, were never missed. From a young age, Itai grappled with philosophical questions about life and human nature. In high school, he studied Jewish thought, relishing the discussions and the opportunity to explore fundamental questions with depth and an open mind. He continued to engage in philosophical debates everywhere, with a genuine curiosity and a willingness to truly listen and learn. After a delayed enlistment due to a sports injury, Itai served in the Air Control Unit. Upon completing his service, he traveled to India and upon his return, alternated between Be’eri and Tel Aviv before settling in the city. In 2010, he began studying for a bachelor’s degree in psychology and philosophy at Tel Aviv University. His quest for the "perfect path" did not skip his studies—he switched from philosophy to economics, then to general studies, later completing a master’s degree in business administration. In recent years, Itai discovered the Satya method through his mother and Aunt Osnat. Starting as a participant, he completed the coaching course in 2023 and began taking steps as a coach. Friends and family who trained with him during his studies spoke of his remarkable ability to deeply connect with people, listen attentively, and reflect what he heard. For the first time, it seemed he had found his professional calling. Curiosity also led him to Brazilian jiu-jitsu, which became integral to his life over the past two and a half years. Initially hesitant about its intensity and physical aggressivity, he overcame his fears, and his athletic talent shined through. Training four times a week, he also incorporated Muay Thai and Mixed Martial Arts, creating deep bonds with his teammates and becoming a beloved member of his club. Above all, Itai cherished time with his family, always available to help with care and concern. He shared warm relationships with his aunts, uncles, and cousins, and became the perfect uncle to Merav and Dan’s sons, Keynan and Elam. He lovingly cared for his father, Rafi, during his recovery from a heart attack, and frequently shared cherished “Tel Aviv time” with him and his brother Yonatan. His unique bond with his grandmother Aviva brought him to the kibbutz almost every weekend, showing his devotion and spending quality time. On Friday, October 6, Itai was in Be’eri with his family, as he often was on weekends. The brutal attack on the kibbutz caught him at Orit’s home. They took shelter in the fortified room amidst gunfire and shouting, and maintained a connection with the family through their family WhatsApp. Gradually, communication with family members was severed: first with Rafi, then with Itai, and lastly with Orit. She sent a heart emoji. And then another. Orit and Rafi were murdered in Be’eri on October 7. Itai’s fate remained uncertain until the family received indications he had been abducted to Gaza. Fifty days later, survivors who were held captive with him reported he had seen his mother killed and asked them to convey a plea to Merav: to do everything possible to save him. Despite tireless efforts, on the 97th day of captivity, the building where Itai, Noa Argamani, and Yossi Sharabi were held collapsed due to an airstrike. Itai survived the collapse but was murdered two days later by his captors. Even under inhumane conditions, Itai remained true to himself: resourceful, resilient, and emotionally present for others—a confidant, a listener, a source of support. Itai’s tragic death stands in stark contrast to his life and character: a man of connection, humanity, and compassion; sensitive, kind, and always seeking peace and goodness. When asked during his Satya training what kind of coach he aspired to be, he said: “Calm, humble, compassionate, and with a sense of humor.” That is who he wanted to be. That is who he was. And that is how we will always remember him. May his memory be a blessing. Back 17.02.1985 - 13.01.2024 38 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Ayelet Godard Life Story Family and friends share their stories Ayelet was a valued educator and fighter for justice, who shaped generations of people and never stopped working for the nation and the country she so loved. Ayelet was born in June, 1960, in Kfar Galim, the daughter of Rachel and Yosskeh Pereg. Yosskeh was one of the founders of Nakhbir (Be’eri’s original name). He died when Ayelet was three, and she and her sisters, Ruthie and Tami, moved with their mother to Kiryat Bialik, where they became a household of strong, determined women of action. Ayelet was an active teenager and a counselor in the local Scouts group. That was where her skills as an educator first blossomed. Her love of people, nature and hiking led her to join the army as a tour guide at Har Ha’Negev Field School. During her service, Ayelet lived in Yamit, in the final years before it was evacuated. Along with her friends, she led tours of both young and old, new recruits and General Staff officers, taking them all over the region, from Sheikh Zuweid and Bardawil Lake in the northern Sinai Desert, to Ali Muntar Hill and the “potters district” in Gaza. She was attentive to the smells, tastes, traditions and stories. She acquired a huge amount of local knowledge, and was able to add context full of humanity to the country’s spectacular mosaic. Her military service led her not only to encounter extraordinary places, but also to meet the love of her life. On one of her trips to the beach, she met Meni, Yamit’s good-looking, charismatic life guard, “the king of the beach.” They quickly became an item, “Meni-and-Ayelet,” and were married on the beach where they’d met. It was the last wedding in Yamit. The young couple wanted to live on the kibbutz, but Ayelet’s mother pressured her to acquire a vocation first. And so they moved to Tel Aviv. Meni worked as a lifeguard on Hilton Beach, and Ayelet studied special education and history at the Kibbutzim College. In 1983, their daughter Mor was born. Her name (Hebrew for ‘myrrh’) alludes to the Spice Route that Ayelet loved. After they moved back to the kibbutz, their children Gal and Bar were born. While raising her family, Ayelet was also a legendary teacher at the school, where each graduating class has a name: Savyon, Ellah and Petel were the groups she taught. She was an exceptional teacher with traditional methods, who brought nature into the classroom and took the children outside frequently. In 1997, she was appointed principal of Nofim, the elementary school. Ayelet integrated the informal education network into the school, including a petting zoo. Everything she touched thrived. Upon moving to the regional school at Ma’aleh Ha’Bsor, she stepped into the role of supervising the “Shin-shin” program members (who commit to a year of community service before they enlist in the army) in the United Kibbutz Movement. In that capacity, she guided hundreds of young people through their year of service. Over the years, Ayelet always managed to combine her great loves: family, friends, nature and good books. She went hiking whenever she could; more than her favorite pastime, it was a way of life. When the kids were grown, she set off on her big trip: she and her friend Edna travelled to India and Nepal, where she encountered the magnificent Himalaya mountains and the orphanages that operate in the region. She then informed her family that it was time for her own year of service. In 2005, Meni and Ayelet adopted their fourth child, Goni, a sensitive and captivating boy. Ayelet was an exemplary mother and a beloved grandmother. She always came up with something personal and special for each child, whether an art project, an invitation to an activity, or dough for cookie-making. Her personal attention and ability to treat every person as an equal made Ayelet a professor of human relations. She displayed the same generosity and simplicity whether hosting kindergarten children or members of the “Valley Parliament” singing troupe. Together with Meni, she kept a home that was always open, buzzing with guests, children, grandchildren, adopted children, students, family and friends—a great number of friends. Ayelet believed with all her heart in the kibbutz and its residents, and took an active part in the kibbutz life. She left her mark everywhere: on the children now grown; in the petting zoo; on the bike paths she helped plan; in the “shin-shin” communal housing she brought to Be’eri; in the cultural events she organized; in her faith that one can make a change and have an impact. She was driven by an inner fire, endless dedication, and a sense of purpose that knew no bounds. On Saturday morning, October 7, 2023, she and Meni were murdered side by side, in the home they loved, on the kibbutz that was their home. May her memory be a blessing. Back 28.06.1960 - 07.10.2023 63 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Geula Bachar Life Story Family and friends share their stories Geula was born in 1942 at the Dajani Hospital in Jaffa, to parents who themselves were Israel-born. She lived in Givatayim until the 8th grade, when her family moved to Herzliya. Her mother was a homemaker, her father, a construction worker, and Geula was the third of six children. Her relationship with her siblings was especially close. In her early childhood, fear and hardship would drive her to the bed of her older sister Etti, to find solace. Geula was quite an athletic child who loved to play soccer and was the fastest 60-meter sprinter at her school. Despite her cleverness and love of learning, she only completed 8thgrade, then moved on to help feed the family by working at a rope factory. At 18, she joined the Nahal Brigade in the IDF as part of the "B'nei Yitzhak" group. The group spent part of their service working on Kibbutz Shluhot, and that was where Geula met Yitzhak. Geula and Yitzhak's relationship was beautiful, loyal, and devoted. Their deep love helped them through life's tribulations. Geula used to tell her family that for her first birthday that was spent with Yitzhak, he bought her a mixer, and she in turn, gave him an electric kettle for his birthday six months later. In 1963, Yitzhak and Geula married at the Tel Aviv Rabbinate and started a family. First, they lived in Rehovot, where they had Yossi and Rivka. In December 1965, they followed Yitzhak's brother Chico to Kibbutz Be'eri. There, Tami, Naomi, Oved, and Meirav were born. Geula worked in the kindergarten at first, then held jobs in gardening and at the chicken hatchery, but most of her years she spent caring for seniors. She had a deep sense of professional dedication and studied geriatrics to be better qualified for what she saw as sacred work. Her sons, daughters, and grandchildren were the center of her life and a source of pride for her. In 1992, Geula's daughter Naomi suddenly passed away at just 22. Her death broke Geula's soul, and she sought strength to carry on living. She found it in her first grandson Dagan, born three months before Naomi's passing, and in the rest of her family. Over the years, Geula had 21 biological grandchildren and another 4 who became her own as well. Her heart and home were always open to her children and grandkids, who visited often. She had a unique relationship with each. Geula hated cooking. Her grandchildren enjoyed such easy-to-make treats as grilled cheese sandwiches, a special salad on Shabbat, and her famous cheesecakes – she was especially delighted when these were devoured within the day. Geula loved Kibbutz Be'eri; it was her home in every sense of the word. Like her, her children also made their homes in Be'eri. May her memory be blessed. Back 10.10.1942 - 07.10.2023 80 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Grace Cabrera Life Story Family and friends share their stories Gracie was born in Maasin, Iloilo City, on Pano Island in the Philippines. She was the third of eight children. Her parents separated when she was little, and her mother struggled to raise her children in poverty. Gracie took many of the household chores upon herself. Despite the responsibilities she shouldered, she was a cheerful and joyous child. Grace entered the workforce at a young age, to help support the family. She worked in Manila, where she met Domingo at church. During their courtship, Grace began working in Hong Kong, and she only returned home to marry him in 2006. Roughly two years later, the couple adopted Benedict, a two-month-old baby who is now fifteen years old. In 2019, Grace was able to fulfill her dream of working in Israel, the Holy Land. She spent one year as a caregiver in Ashkelon, where she met a friend who lived on Be’eri, and that was how she came to the kibbutz and began caring for Aviva Sela. Her bond with Aviva was immediate. Gracie showed appropriate concern, without being bothersome. She knew how to adapt herself to any situation, to be present or fade into the background. They liked to tour around the kibbutz together, whether taking the motorized scooter along the ring road, or the walker to and from the gate. They stopped for frequent rests, and were both always cheerful and smiling, exchanging little gestures that said everything without words. Gracie could predict what Aviva needed or wanted, and Aviva could laugh at everything, including herself. They took their strolls, went to the dining room for socializing and a healthy meal, and sometimes enjoyed simply watching the commotion of kibbutz residents and children. The many branches of the Sela family loved Gracie and appreciated the warm care she provided for Aviva. She quickly became a full member of the tribe. The kibbutz and the Sela family were her paradise. Her work in Israel enabled her to help her siblings, nieces and nephews to earn a higher education, which was her way to give them hope for a better future. Eventually, Gracie managed to bring her youngest sister, Mary Jane, to the kibbutz. They met every single day, had lunch together, and sometimes dinner. Mary Jane would buy the ingredients needed for Gracie to cook comforting Filipino dishes. Gracie was also active in the circle of foreign caregivers on the kibbutz. She was always in the middle of the action, decorating for holiday parties, organizing get-togethers, baking cakes or dishes they missed, bringing everyone together. Life went by pleasantly until October 7. Upon hearing the air-raid sirens, Gracie took Aviva into the safe room, and had time to gather all of Aviva’s medication, just in case. They waited together in the safe room, hoping the incident would end soon. But the terrorists entered the house and turned it into their headquarters. They spent roughly four hours in the house, and later brought in Adi and then Sandra, who was injured, with her two children. Despite being handcuffed and fearful, Gracie got up to help, bringing clothes and water. At around 3 p.m., the terrorists took everyone out of the house and marched them to the road. Shots were fired. Everyone scattered in all directions. From that point on, we have no clear information on what happened. All we know is the end result: Aviva never saw her beloved Gracie again. Sandra managed to get back home and hide in the safe room until the gunfire ended. She found Aviva sitting on the swing in the yard. Gracie was murdered by the terrorists outside the house. Gracie, a native of the Philippines, who was soon to turn 45, was murdered many thousands of kilometers from her home, in a war that was not hers. For her, Be’eri was a place of beauty, love, friendship and compassion. May her memory be a blessing. Back 23.12.1978 - 07.10.2023 45 years old (Nursing Assistant)

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Ohad Cohen Life Story Family and friends share their stories Three members of three generations of the Cohen family—grandmother, son, and granddaughter, Yona, Ohad, and Mila—each had different birthdays, but they all died on the same day, October 7, 2023. Ohad was the third son of Yona and David, and a member of the Ela class. He was a sensitive and intelligent boy, easy to love. Modest and radiant like Yona. He enjoyed a range of sports—soccer, basketball, and tennis. He consistently strove to excel—but without being conspicuous or competitive. He had a special connection with his father, David; the two of them would go to sports events together. After completing high school at Ma'aleh Habesor, he enlisted and served in the armored corps. After his discharge he set off on a post-army trek in the Far East and Australia, part of it together with his brother Ido. When he returned to the kibbutz, he worked in a varied range of fields. His love of music prompted him to train as a DJ and to found a company - Loud. One of the leading DJs in the south, Ohad provided music services for parties, clubs, and events. But after his father died, he could no longer enjoy parties, so he devoted himself to sports and fitness, and became adept at doing handstands. He said that he liked walking on his hands more than his feet. He excelled at this as well. Out of love for human beings, and with his characteristic generosity and dedication, he offered free workshops in this art, seeing it as a calling. Alongside this, he worked at Be’eri Printers as a data editor, expanding his knowledge in the field of computers. In recent years he worked outside the kibbutz, managing the sales force project at Elad Software Systems. He created a training course and taught it to the staff. His final position was management of the sales force for Strauss. Ohad enjoyed and was proud of this experience outside the kibbutz. He met his wife Sandra at one of his brother Itay’s basketball games. It was love at first sight, and the legend is that he immediately went to his sister to inquire about her. They married in 2013 and made their home on Be’eri, having three beloved children who filled their world. Family was, for Ohad, the highest value. After his siblings found work overseas, Ohad remained at the kibbutz and assumed responsibility for his mother. On Shabbat morning, Ohad, Sandra, and their three children entered their secure room. Ohad fought to defend his family when Hamas terrorists tried to break through the door. His calls for help went unanswered. Sandra was severely wounded. Sons Liam and Dylan survived, but Mila and Ohad were murdered. May his memory be blessed. Prayer - Avraham Chalfi I don’t know the words from which prayer is born. All words are lost to my voice, have become a mute darkness. But my eyes still see the spark in the eyes of a child, and my eyes still see: A star of unmatched brilliance, and worried-faced mothers steering their small ones to the light. What will be with them? What will be? Listen to their breathing joy in the spring, which seems as if it will never end. I will bow before the role of God even if he has vanished from my eyes. Do no wrong to the innocent, they do not know why lightning strikes a fruit-bearing tree. Do no wrong to the innocent. Back 10.06.1980 - 07.10.2023 43 years old