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Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Lilach Kipnis Life Story Family and friends share their stories Lilach was born on August 9, 1963, in Kibbutz Be'eri, to Avraham and Rena Havron. Avraham, who was born in Germany and came to Jerusalem as a child on the eve of World War II, was one of the founders of Be'eri. On the kibbutz, he was known as a renowned dairy farmer and a pioneer in biological pest control. Rena, born in Tel Aviv, was also one of the founders of Be'eri, who went on to become a writer, an expert about the land, and a teacher. Lilach, their fourth child, was a sister to Dudu, Aviv, and Shoshan. She had a forthright and close relationship with her parents, who were blessed with long lives. She cared for them with deep devotion until their final days. As a radiant and playful young girl, Lilach made a distinct impression. She was especially alert to others and sensitive to discrimination and inequity. She grew up in the shared accommodations of the time, as a member of the “Kitat Omer", where she formed strong friendships. From her parents’ house she was endowed with a love of science and writing. Additionally, her parents took her for many hiking trips which led to a love of the land, even though she later became less enthusiastic about hiking. Lilach's intelligence, eloquence, and natural leadership qualities were evident from an early age. When helping the local children, she always tried to overcome social challenges and complexities, which only intensified whenever new children joined the kibbutz. Over time, she became the youth coordinator for the junior high members of the kibbutz. Later, she left the kibbutz for a year of national service, working with youth in the city of Kfar Saba and then, as part of her military service, she transitioned into being a social worker in HaShomer Farm. There she helped rehabilitate and support troubled soldiers, who came from underprivileged families, which led to them being called “the Raful Boys.” “Raful” was a nickname for the Chief of Staff, Rafael Eitan, who happened to be a member of Lilach’s family. Hence, working with that group felt like coming full circle. After the army, the time for studies had arrived, giving Lilach another opportunity to convey her personality. She earned a bachelor’s degree in social work at the Hebrew University, followed by a master’s degree in art therapy at Ben Gurion University, and then completed a certificate program at the psychotherapy school at Bar Ilan University. While studying in Jerusalem, she engaged in political activity, taking part in the weekly demonstrations at Paris Square that were organized by the “Women in Black” movement, who expressed their stance against violence and against the occupation. At that time, she met Tari (Eviatar) Kipnis. Their souls immediately connected and never separated. Tari, who was born on Kibbutz Ma’agan Michael, was also a student and had been in the Navy. He worked on yachts in those days, and Lilach joined the adventures. That’s how they were able to travel the world, making a good living and living very happily. When they realized that they were meant for each other, they decided to go to Lilach’s kibbutz for a trial year. That year turned into a whole life on Be'eri. The couple’s two children were born there: Yotam and, two years later, Nadav. After six years of working on the kibbutz as the human resources manager at the Beeri printing office, Lilach decided to return to her original profession, social work. Many hundreds of people — including children, teenagers, soldiers, and adults — benefited from her decision. Many of them saw her as a savior of souls, a second mother, and later as a grandmother. Lilach enjoyed her family and kibbutz life. She loved to bake, host people, be silly sometimes, and also put together a respectable collection of cat figurines. Last August she celebrated her 60th birthday and, as a birthday present to herself, she chose to learn Arabic directly from native speakers: the Bedouins of the neighboring town of Rahat. At the heart of Lilach’s professional work there was always trauma. She would notice the pain around her and, in response, looked for creative ways to help each person find strength and peace within themselves. She held a deep belief that these complex situations could be treated. In her work, she combined games, movement exercises, and creativity. These methods, which she grew to believe in through her practice, she would even use on herself and her children. For many people, Lilach was a beacon of light. Even in the densest darkness, she knew how to identify and map out paths that led to the light. Even in the face of hardship and cruelty, she remained a loving and optimistic person. Lilach would always avoid judgement and remain empathetic, keeping the patient's needs at the center of her work. About two years ago, the children of the Eshkol Regional Council received a special gift: "The Trigger Song." It was a gentle children’s story, told in rhyming verse, and born out of her many meetings with the children of the “Resilience Center,” who live in ongoing states of emergency. Her book was born of the desire not to disregard children’s concerns. Instead, Lilach sought to validate the fears of those children. For the recurring motif of the book, she wrote: “Don’t be afraid, you’re now protected. Everything here is fine. Now you can relax. Slowly let go. Breathe deeply. Drink a little. Choose whatever makes you feel good.” Lilach is no longer with us, but her book is making its way around the world. It passes among parents, teachers, and educators. It gives much needed support to children all over the country. It is impossible to mistake this effect for anything but a trace of Lilach's warmth, kindness, and wisdom. In the terrible darkness, Lilach has been an inspiration to all of us. She left behind a voice of clarity and hope, which will never stop. May her memory be a blessing. Back 09.08.1963 - 07.10.2023 60 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Ziv Shopen Life Story Family and friends share their stories Ziv was born in Beersheva on October 23rd, 1967, four months after the end of the Six-Day War. Eldest son of Nicole and Eli – new immigrants from Tunisia. When he was a year old, his sister Dganit was born and when he was six, his sister Shani joined the family. He was a very happy child, smiling and bright, always surrounded by friends. Handsome. People around him would whisper, "He looks so much like Shlomo Artzi ..." As the big brother, he looked out for his younger sisters who from an early age felt that Ziv was a kind of "mini manager". Dganit and Shani cannot forget the day that he met a boy who was irritating one of them and approached him, not threatening, not shouting, he did not try to get rid of him but simply quoted a line from a song (not Shlomo Artzi's) – " You and I will change the world". Ziv arrived at Be'eri almost by chance. He and his sister Dganit attended the Yeelim School in Beersheva which was situated next to the Youth Aliyah building. One day, the two of them entered the building instead of going to school. Both children felt a special connection to the kibbutz movement perhaps because their father, Eli, who at the age of eight had made Aliyah to Israel alone, had joined the movement originally in Givat HaShlosha and then in Kibbutz Einat. There, in the Youth Aliyah building in Beersheva, they underwent entrance examinations to kibbutzim and, some time later, their surprised parents received an official letter in the post: Ziv was accepted by Kibbutz Be'eri and Dganit by Afikim. So, in 10th grade, Ziv joined the Class of 1983 (Irit) in Be'eri. This was the first class on the kibbutz which included "outsiders", and from the very first moment he integrated into the class and the kibbutz as though he had been born there. His presence, with his tight curly hair, his big smile and green eyes, was felt everywhere. This is where he met Emily, a volunteer from England, the love of his life. ("In your own way, you changed my life" she eulogised, when told he had been killed). In the army, he served in Battalion 890 of the Paratroopers Brigade, and made them proud. He had so many nicknames and private jokes about himself and the things that he did, that no one knows if they really happened or not. Like the story where he "called times" for his soldiers without even wearing a watch, or the party in Kfar Giladi to which he made an entrance on the roof of a command car. Or the story of a young Ziv who, reaching an artillery support base in Lebanon in the late 1980s was made to spin round on the spot and call out numbers for the older soldiers playing backgammon without a dice. Over time serving in the reserves they called him "Mozart," the guy who conducted and oversaw the soldiers' off-duty experiences, the unity and morale of the troops. After the army, Ziv returned to the kibbutz and went off to the Far East for 18 months. He loved to travel, mostly alone, but made friends with other travelers in the countries he visited, finding out where they grew up and attempting to learn their languages. These trips made him happy. In Japan, for instance, he got to know a family and developed a special bond. Some years later, they visited Be'eri at his invitation. When he returned from traveling, he studied refrigeration and air conditioning engineering and worked in the kibbutz, in charge of installing A/C units for all the older members who loved and appreciated him very much. He habitually attended the Friday afternoon football games for the youngsters on the kibbutz lawn and later in the evening hung out at the Be'eri pub. Ziv did not marry nor did he have children. His sisters’ children were like his own. They used to visit him for relaxing kibbutz weekends and he would take them out on trips – to sail or swim in Jaffa port, to eat shawarma in town or to visit a Bedouin tent where he had friends. He never ceased to be interested in the roots and history of his extended family, never stopped researching and collecting more and more information about the "Shopen Dynasty". He was a very proud uncle at his nephew Ben's recent barmitzvah. Ziv, a devoted Hapoel Beersheva fan, arranged for a film of the team's players congratulating Ben to be screened at the party and emotionally accompanied his nephew at the traditional Torah service. To Ziv, the immigrant child, the eternal child, the sensitive songwriter, who loved Be'eri more than anything, the kibbutz was his life. The community was his family. On the morning of that black shabbat, he was in Tel Aviv enjoying his weekend espresso. When he realized that terrorists were endangering Be'eri, he got into his car and drove home. He was stopped at four roadblocks. At each one the security forces recommended that he turn around and return to Tel Aviv. Four times he refused. Four times he continued to drive. Even when the road was blocked by abandoned vehicles, Ziv did not give up and ran on foot towards Be'eri. He succeeded in reaching the kibbutz gate, took a weapon from one of the dead terrorists lying on the grass and ran towards the dining room. He engaged in fire. Attempted to save lives. There, he fell. Ziv Shopen died in the battle for the kibbutz, which was his entire world. Two weeks before his fifty-sixth birthday. It had been four decades since he arrived at the kibbutz. On the floor of his house, among the empty rifle cartridges, lay the book "1000 Places to See Before You Die". May his memory be a blessing. Back 23.10.1967 - 07.10.2023 56 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Narkis Hand Life Story Family and friends share their stories Narkis, Narkisi, our Kisi, was born in Be’eri and had a classic kibbutz upbringing, including communal living. The fifth and youngest child to mother Simha’leh, a native of Israel, and to father Efraim (Epi), may he rest in peace, who immigrated from Iraq as a baby. Simha’leh, Narkis’s mother, ran away from her Tel Aviv home at 16 to learn and practice kibbutz living in Be’eri, fell in love with the place, and refused to leave. Epi, Narkis’s father, came to Be’eri after completing his military service, following in the footsteps of his aunt, Rachel Behor-Zaig, who was part of the Iraqi faction of the founders of Be’eri. Epi and Simha’leh met and married on the kibbutz. Simha’leh was a caretaker for young children and a cook in the dining hall. Epi started his career as a truck driver back in his military days. Later in life, he also served as a driver for organized trips to the Sinai Peninsula. Narkis, born in 1969, was a member of Kitat Hadar , which included 15 boys and girls. Even as a child, she knew how to stand her ground and was willing to work hard for what she wanted. When she was ten years old, she started taking classical and modern ballet classes. Since then, dance became a central, significant element in her life. She pursued it throughout childhood and adolescence, and for many years thereafter. An introvert, dance allowed her to express herself, imbued her with confidence, and afforded her a regal posture. Narkis looked just like a flower—tall and proud. Her kindness was apparent on her face. She was a good listener, a great helper, and very beloved by her classmates. As a teenager, she chose to work at the kindergartens and children’s housing. Like all other kibbutz youth, she was recruited to help out in the orchards and the factory. She was a disciplined, industrious, studious girl who graduated high school with excellent grades. She enlisted in the military and served as a weather forecaster at the air traffic control tower at Hatzerim Airbase. She loved her role, loved her friends, and was loved by others. It was impossible not to love her. She continued dancing all throughout her military service, and went traveling the world upon her honorable discharge. When she returned to Israel, she was accepted into the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance in Jerusalem. However, she found her studies disappointing and decided to drop out. Narkis returned to the kibbutz, where she met Thomas (Tom), an Irish volunteer. They married in 1993, when she was 24 years old. A year later, she gave birth to Eden, her parents’ first grandson. And so it happened that Narkis, the youngest of the five Tzoref children, was the first to marry and become a mother. Two and a half years later, in 1997, Narkis and Tom had a daughter, Nataly. The two divorced about three years after that, and Tom remained on the kibbutz. Thanks, among other things, to Narkis’s kind and generous nature, the two remained close friends, raising their children as a team. This was a conscious choice: Narkis made sure Tom never lost his role as their children’s father. Later on, Tom met Liat, may she rest in peace, and the two decided on maintaining a relationship, Liat in Haifa and Tom on Be'eri. They had a child together—Emily. When Emily was two years old, Liat died of cancer, and Emily moved to Be’eri to be with her father. Narkis accepted Emily with open arms, treating her as one of her own. She took her in as an inseparable part of the family, a sister to her children and a beloved cousin. Emily participated in holiday celebrations and family trips, and Narkis’s relationship with her was an example of pure, unconditional love. Narkis was a doting mother, and her children were very attached to her. Raising Nataly and Eden filled her life with joy and meaning. As the kids got older and became more independent, Narkis and her mother grew closer, always seen together. As Epi’s aunt, one of the Be’eri founders, aged, Narkis took her under her wing as well, caring for her tirelessly. Narkis was the glue that held the family together, and the one everyone turned to. Thanks to her, relatives living all over the country maintained a strong connection. But along with her devotion to her family, she never forgot to take care of herself. As an adult, she returned to dance classes with her childhood dance instructor, caring both for her body and her soul, which remained the soul of a dancer. She never allowed herself to be inactive: in recent years, she started practicing Pilates, and adopted a new hobby that filled her with enthusiasm—she enrolled in a clothes-making course in Be'er Sheva, bought herself a sewing machine, and started making charming dresses and tunics. Narkis worked for the kibbutz insurance company, a job she found enjoyable and meaningful. She was the heart of the office, always spreading love and grace around her. Working alongside her was a treat. Her patience, attentiveness, and compassion made her a fantastic employee. Clients were comfortable approaching her, and she always responded in kind. She never dodged a phone call. Every client wanted her to take their case, knowing they were in good hands. Narkis, you will be sorely missed. We, the members of Kibbutz Be’eri who survived the horror, will remember you in death as wonderful as you were in life, and will do our best to walk in your footsteps, perpetuating the values to which you always adhered. Rest in peace. May your memory be a blessing and may your soul be bound up in the bond of eternal life. Back 02.02.1969 - 07.10.2023 54 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Noya Sharabi Life Story Family and friends share their stories Noya was always a mature girl, compared to her peers in ‘Afarsek’ class (‘peach’, the name of her year group in the kibbutz). A good and diligent student, a protective sister to Yahel, she loved to cook Middle Eastern food with her grandmother. From the age of 14 she volunteered to work with children in the kibbutz who had difficulties, because she wanted to help those who were less fortunate than herself. She easily formed a relationship with the children and dreamed of working in the field of education and becoming a kindergarten teacher. She was attentive to people, and would write birthday wishes, and obituaries for memorial services. Music was part of Noya's life. She liked to go to concerts with friends. Not long before her death she went with the whole family to a concert by Hanan Ben Ari, whom the four of them really loved. Lianne, Noya and Yahel were murdered on Saturday morning, October 7, 2023. May her memory be blessed. Eulogy by grandmother Gill: Noiya’s British Grandmother was privileged to be present when she was born - a huggable bundle of beauty. The family was lucky enough to visit Be’eri as Noiya was growing from an affectionate and happy child, to a compassionate teen and a beautiful and talented young woman. Always the big sister, she looked after Yahel and was very proud of her little sister. She worked hard at school and always got good grades. She loved to sing and dance. Her dancing was very good, but, oh dear, her voice was awful!!! This she knew, and took all comments in good humour. She would often chase us around the room, singing at the top of her voice, to make us laugh. She had a caring nature and gave her time to those who were physically and mentally disabled. After doing her National Service, it was her intention to have a career in some form of social work and she would surely have made a difference to many lives. We will always treasure the memories of a beautiful and talented girl. A beacon of light extinguished too soon, but ever in our hearts, always. We will miss her smiling face. 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. Noiya So gentle was your caring heart. You healed with kindness from the start. You saw the vulnerable, you felt their pain. You gave them hope again and again. 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 01.10.2007 - 07.10.2023 16 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Chen Even Life Story Family and friends share their stories Chen was born in Be’eri in July 1977. He loved to walk barefoot on the paths of the kibbutz, and spend long hours in the petting zoo. He was a playful, adventurous boy. His friends knew that they could rely wholeheartedly on Chen. He would always be there, warm and cordial, considerate and gentle, offering help naturally, with generosity, humility and simplicity, as if everything was a matter of course. Chen served in the General Staff unit. In the unit he excelled in working with cars. As a professional, he took the skills he had developed and brought them back to the kibbutz, and after his release worked in the fields. He studied land and water at Ruppin College, and was well versed in all fields of agriculture in Be’eri. He was a true farmer, hardworking, and loved the land. He was a combination of a responsible adult and a mischievous child, always with one or two children on his shoulder, or on the tractor, or on some other agricultural vehicle, on the way to or from the fields. And in between he rescued vehicles of friends or of strangers who got stuck in the mud while seeking out the magnificent anemones during the "Red South" festival. Chen liked to go on off-road trips, which included chasing floods in the Negev. He went on nature trips with his family, sleeping in tents in the field. He loved the kibbutz very much, and was an equally rough and gentle kibbutznik. He met Rinat when she was working in a paid post-army kibbutz job at the Hatzav kindergarten. The spark ignited immediately, and they became a couple. Opposites are complementary in many ways. Great mutual respect, love and deep friendship prevailed between them. The house of the Even family was warm and open. Chen would take care of the children, who were the center of his life and the source of his pride. Rinat cared for the whole world, always available, always concerned. The Even family home was a center of support and love on the kibbutz. They were humble, surrounded by friends, loving and loved by everyone. Chen was murdered on Saturday morning. Messages from rescue seekers were later found on his phone. Everyone knew they could rely on him. Tomer and Nir, the whole kibbutz stands with you. Forever. He was 46 years old when he died. May his memory be blessed. Back 15.07.1977 - 07.10.2023 46 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Carmel Gat Life Story Family and friends share their stories Carmel was the eldest daughter of Kinneret and Eshel Gat, a big sister to Alon and Or. She was the first grandchild to Ruta and Eliyahu from Be'eri, and the second to Tova and Naim Dahan from far-away Kibbutz Degania. This made her bond with her grandparents especially strong. During visits to Degania or on the lawn at her grandparents' house in Be'eri, the children loved to play wildly, and Eliyahu would occasionally have to step in to separate the bundle of energetic kids. The young family lived in the bustling neighborhood of Mishmar HaGvul, a lively area full of children. Afternoons spent playing together and shared holidays created lasting friendships and a deep sense of community. At home, Carmel, who was relatively mature for her age, worked alongside her mother, Kinneret, to shape the cultural world of her younger siblings. She decided what books they would read, which TV series they’d watch together on the couch, and what music they’d listen to on MTV—guiding them on which bands and artists were "in" and which were "out". Alon and Or were grateful to Carmel for paving the way with their parents, setting precedents that allowed them to go to concerts, hang out at the beach with friends, and attend parties. She was not only their inspiration and role model but also their support in difficult times—always with humor and laughter. In school, in "Petel" class, they called her "Meli", and she held a special place there. The girls of Petel didn’t usually join the boys in their mischief, but occasionally they shared in the spoils. Carmel stood out as a strong-minded child, principled with a keen sense of justice. She followed her internal compass and did what she believed was right, never swayed by the crowd. She was the first in her class to move to the big city, a refuge for classmates who found themselves there. Whenever she visited the kibbutz, she made sure to meet up with the Petel kids. After studying the Grinberg Method, every meeting and conversation with Carmel came with her healing touch. During conversations, her magical hands would press the right spots, releasing tension both physically and emotionally. Life in Tel Aviv brought Carmel many odd jobs: delivering sandwiches to offices, assisting a disabled student by taking notes and summarizing lectures, and more. Her hallmark was always her interpersonal communication. In a shared apartment in Tel Aviv, Carmel met Robi, and together they spent 14 years filled with love, laughter, music, friends, and their beloved dog, Zoe. Carmel was a people person, someone you could have deep conversations with and gain a new perspective. Her path naturally led her to study occupational therapy, where she chose to work with mental health patients. For the last three years, she worked in the "Eshnav for Education" program, showcasing the qualities that made her so beloved by her friends: she could see the best in everyone, make them feel special, and amplify the positive. She loved people without letting them off the hook, and her care, commitment, and ability to bring reality into the room were palpable. She was a magnet for good energy, and everywhere she went, she created circles of friendship: in the kibbutz, during her years working as an au pair for an Israeli family in Switzerland, at university, and even in Degania, when visiting her grandparents. When she and Robi parted ways about a year and a half ago, Carmel set out on a new path. She returned to the kibbutz, planned a trip to India, and intended to come back for the final year of her master’s degree. During that time, she also supported Uri, her first serious boyfriend from the end of high school, as he faced the challenges of his illness. Quietly and creatively, she accompanied him, his wife, and their children until the very end. Throughout her life, Carmel maintained a deep curiosity for people, places, and ideas. She traveled extensively in Israel and around the world, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends and family. Her special bond with her parents was also reflected in the trips she took with them, together and individually. In recent years, she visited India more frequently, returning to the same village she had stumbled upon during the pandemic. She was always learning something new—Feldenkrais, yoga, and various therapeutic methods. In the past few years, she took courses in Arabic, history, and Israeli geography, often alongside her mother, Kinneret, who was proud when Carmel's grades were higher than hers. Carmel read voraciously and loved listening to podcasts and music in all kinds of styles, so she was always seen with headphones. And she loved to dance, drink wine, and enjoy a beer by the sea. About four years ago, Gefen was born to Alon and Yarden, becoming the new focal point of the family’s connection. The frequency of family gatherings increased accordingly, and Carmel was a joyful aunt, constantly coming up with a thousand ways to entertain and play with Gefen, testing her flexibility, reading her stories. It was the same on that Saturday morning. The kids were either about to leave or had just returned from abroad, making it a particularly joyous gathering. Carmel and Alon were getting ready for a run—their new shared hobby. Instead, they found themselves in the bomb shelter. Carmel was reading Gefen a story when the terrorists entered the house. Kinneret was taken and murdered near the house. Alon, Gefen, and Yarden were kidnapped in one car, while Carmel was taken in another. She was supposed to be released two days after Yarden, but the deal fell through. The family threw themselves into the fight for the hostages' release, becoming leaders in protests, media outreach, and rallying public opinion in Israel and around the world. Facing the daily challenge of bringing up the issue of the hostages again and again, without giving up, they held onto the belief that Carmel would hold on until her release. The birthday celebration in the square and the Friday yoga sessions held across Israel and the world made Carmel a symbol of the struggle. After 50 days of uncertainty about Carmel’s fate, Alma and Noam Or, who were kidnapped with her, returned from captivity. Inspired by Carmel, they kept a daily journal, practiced meditation, and did yoga as a way to maintain their mental and physical health. They shared how Carmel had been their guardian angel, as if her entire life had prepared her for the incredible ability to survive, support, heal, and be a pillar of strength in the darkness of Hamas captivity. They also revealed that Carmel had seen her mother murdered because the car she was in drove right by the scene. For 328 days in captivity, Carmel didn’t know what had happened to the rest of her family. Carmel was a unique blend of softness, warmth, compassion, and love, combined with intellectual curiosity and endless inquisitiveness. She knew how to break conventions while maintaining the freedom to live life her way, always attuned to her own body and soul, as well as those of others. She had a natural, healing presence, a deep and understanding gaze, a captivating smile, a ponytail and curls, and the strength to stand tall, embodying the spirit of her mother, Kinneret—a whole world that came to an end after just 40 years. May her memory be blessed. Back 16.05.1984 - 29.08.2024 40 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Hana Kritzman Life Story Family and friends share their stories “After a person is gone, what remains of him? Not his possessions, not his wealth, but his story, whether he wrote or told it. And my story I now present to you,” wrote Hana Kritzman in the opening of the book she penned in recent years describing her family’s history and her own as well. Her writing abounds in sensitivity, humor and wisdom, all of which also characterized Hana, the active, loving, lively woman with a zeal for life throughout her eighty-eight years. On March 27, 1935, a baby girl named Hana was born in Warsaw, Poland, the daughter of Simcha and Hadassah Gutsdiener. Her young father sensed the winds of antisemitism blowing and decided to set out for Eretz Yisrael. After having found a job and a room in an apartment for his family, he greeted his wife and baby daughter as they descended the ship in Jaffa port. Hana recounts, “My mother wondered, ‘What will my love bring me when we meet? A flower? Jewelry?’ And Father presented her with….an orange! This fruit was so expensive and rare in Poland that it was a truly romantic gift in my mother’s eyes.” As a child, although Hana excelled in sports and the long jump, it was the stories that she read and wrote that transported her to the most distant and magical realms. She entertained her younger siblings Yaffa, David, Tzvia and Sara for hours on end as she read and acted for them. Her teacher would read Hana’s compositions to the class in the Yechieli School in Neve Tzedek. When Hana turned fifteen, a bold new world called “fulfillment” (hagshama ) became revealed to her through her activities in the HaNoar HaOved Zionist Youth Movement. The rumor that the Hagshama Movement was seeking youth to pioneer and settle a new kibbutz being founded not far from Gaza called “Be'eri” excited her tremendously. As Hana wrote, “At those very moments, I forgot that I’m the eldest daughter with the burden of the house upon my shoulders. I could only see my dreams and desires, to fulfill and establish my nation.” But Hana did not speak to her parents of her dreams for the future. “Mom, you didn’t understand me,” Hana writes. “I want to go to the kibbutz now with my friends! We will live together, work, eat and share everything for the success of the kibbutz.” Her father ended the discussion: “Over my dead body are you going to the kibbutz! If you go, I will not allow you to return to this home.” Despite the threat, Hana packed a small bag in the dead of night. Together with two of her friends from the youth movement, she boarded a bus headed south. Reaching Kibbutz Sa’ad, the small band of youth decided to continue their journey to Be'eri on foot. When they were warned of the presence of fedayun (terrorists) in the area, they were equipped with guns. “Two fourteen-year-old boys,” writes Hana. “Without knowing if they even know how to shoot, I’m following them, feeling enormously secure. I’m accompanied by two armed men!” When they caught their first glimpse of Kibbutz Be’eri, Hana writes, “In the distance we could see a small campfire with several young people sitting around it and singing. Sometimes people now ask me, Hana, aren’t you afraid of kassam rocket attacks?’ I reply, ‘If you had seen that campfire, you would know that no kassam can move us from here.’” Hana worked in several branches of the kibbutz, describing them in long letters to her mother. She told of the vegetable garden, her work in the dairy farm, of the sole alarm clock on the kibbutz which she was given, of the common living quarters in tents, of the very difficult, yet very rewarding work. One day, her father appeared at the kibbutz gate together with her brother. It turns out that her mother had read him all the letters Hana had written, and he now broke his long silence with a fierce hug. When Simcha died at the age of 87, he requested to be buried in the kibbutz earth. Hana writes, “And perhaps in his request to be buried here, he wished to ask my forgiveness. Not forgiveness in words, but in an act that demonstrates that he will remain in Be'eri for eternity….My mother was buried at his side.” After this city girl had settled into the kibbutz, a new fellow appeared in her life. Tzvi Kritzman, “Tziki.” “I didn’t think I had any chance with him. He was quite handsome. There were girls who looked like beauty queens, and those who were great dancers. I was very shy, and unlike those girls, I didn’t even try to compete for him. Maybe that’s the reason he chose me! A girl has to show some apathy around a guy and not get too excited. He was my first boyfriend. The very act of holding hands seemed tempestuous to me!” Hana received two proposals of marriage. The first was not romantic enough to her liking, nor terribly inspiring, but as she wrote, “The guy that I loved proposed marriage, that’s the main thing!” And yet, on Hana’s 80thbirthday, Tziki surprised her with a ring and even recorded a love song for her. “So, what could I say? We already have four children!” Hana and Tziki’s first-born son, Tzafrir, was followed by Zohar, Noga and Ziv. But Hana was not only the mother of her children, and not only the grandmother of her grandchildren (Amit, Stav, Lior, Omer, Yotam, Sahar, Paz, Ido, Arad, Dotan, Yael, and Noam) and of her great-grandchildren (Yonatan, Itamar, Guy, Adam, Be'eri, Romi, Yarden, Ben, Neta, and Ohr). Hana raised, educated and nurtured many more children as a nanny, a kindergarten teacher, and a teacher. These children became parents of children and grandchildren who also listened to Hana’s stories with sparkling eyes, loved her and wanted to be near the woman who loved children with all her heart, who knew how to calm and hug. In Hana’s words, "Educate just a little, and most importantly, do not interfere with a child’s growth." How do you do that? In Hana's eyes, this was not complicated: Do not say “no,” “don't,” “if,” or “that’s not allowed.” You don’t tell a child, ‘If you do X, then you will get…" Instead, say: "If you do this quickly, we’ll have enough time to do something else!" There is no problem or sadness that cannot be solved by a story. The child doesn’t want to sit? No need to get excited. A child can also move around!" Establishing Kibbutz Be'eri’s library was truly Hana Kritzman’s life work. She sorted the books, and personally designed the library’s very special, inviting interior. There she held Story Hours and acted out stories for her rapt audience. In time, the library became a bustling cultural center for parents and “graduates” to attend lectures, events, and meet-the-author sessions. Hana later became the cultural director in the kibbutz movement, travelling daily to and from Tel Aviv by car. She was a teacher and a grandmother who loved to entertain all her grandchildren, organizing summer day camps - renowned across Israel - for the children and their friends. Hana was affectionately called “Chaneleh” by all, a nickname that perhaps also indicates her kibbutz roots, but chiefly the love, admiration and closeness felt by all who took part in her life’s journey. Many saw Hana as family. She was a mother for all and a grandmother for all, but in her own family – nuclear and extended – she was the head of the tribe, the activator, the one who brought cheer, the magnet that connected everyone to each other, the writer who connects all the stories into one. On Saturday, October 7, Hana, Avigail the caregiver, and Tziki were in their home. During the early-morning rescue by the IDF, as they sat in their handicapped vehicles, they were shot. Tziki and Hana were injured. They were evacuated to Meir Hospital, where Hana fought for her life. At that very moment, just two floors below, Hana’s tenth great-grandchild was born, the son of her grandson Lior. Although anesthetized and ventilated, when Hana was told the good news, the indicators jumped. This infant entered the world with the name Ohr (“light”). In her book, Hana wrote, “I love my family so very dearly that if God forbid my day will come, I will miss them very much. When the day comes, I ask that it happen painlessly, quickly, when I am in my home.” Hana Kritzman died on October 21, 2023, at the age of eighty-eight. May her memory be blessed. Back 27.03.1935 - 21.10.2023 88 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Yitzhak Siton Life Story Family and friends share their stories Yitzhak, known affectionately as Zizi among his family and close friends, was born in Cairo, Egypt, as the eldest son of James and Rosie Siton. At a young age, he moved with his parents to Israel, where his sister Amalia was born. He attended elementary school at Komemiyut School in Bnei Brak until sixth grade. When the family relocated to Ramat Gan, he transferred to Yahalom School and later continued to Ort Vocational High School. Yitzhak enlisted in the IDF in 1966, serving in the Armored Corps. He fought in the Six-Day War and the subsequent War of Attrition. After his release, he began working at "Amca," where he worked for ten years and later married Hannah. He fought in the Yom Kippur War as a tank commander, when their eldest children, Lior and Tal, were born. Later, he worked at the first international bank for three years, during which their younger children, Noa and Ran, were born. In 1985, Yitzhak began his career in the diamond industry. In the early years, he specialized in polishing and planning rough diamonds; he was also a partner in a diamond purchasing and processing company. In 2001, he moved to South Africa and served as a production manager for several diamond companies. After nine years there, he moved to Namibia and became the operations manager for several diamond polishing companies. Yitzhak was a hardworking man, dedicated to his job; even at the age of 77, he continued to work diligently in a significant and meaningful position. His colleagues saw him not only as a professional mentor but also as a true father figure and a genuine friend, instilling values of closeness, caring, gracefulness, and constant mutual respect. There was no one who worked with him and did not appreciate him both professionally and personally. In the years he lived and worked abroad, his unique nature required the calmness and rhythm of Africa. He was a simple man who spoke little and loved seemingly simple things: health, sunlight, coffee by the sea, a bed to sleep in, a shower, and something to eat. Above all, he loved his children, his wife, and his extended family. On the joyous evening of Simchat Torah, Yitzhak, Hannah, and their son Tal, visiting with Pessi, his sister-in-law, and her children, were together at Kibbutz Be'eri. The extended family gathered for their usual Friday dinner, dancing and singing together in the family dining room. The next day, on Saturday, the 7th of October, at 6:30 in the morning, as the sirens blared, everyone rushed to the safe room. According to testimonies, Yitzhak was shot and killed on the spot while blocking the door of the safe room with his body against the cursed terrorists, along with Tal, as they protected his wife Hannah and his sister-in-law Pessi. The connection was severed around midday. It later became known that the terrorists rounded up additional people from neighboring houses. For hours, a battle ensued between a large group of terrorists and security forces and the IDF. Towards the evening, tank shells were fired towards the house. Out of 14 residents of the settlement, two women survived to tell the tale of the last moments. Throughout his years abroad, Yitzhak maintained a strong and constant connection with home. His children were a source of endless pride for him. He always loved to remind them that they were perfect in his eyes, and they saw him as the best person in the world: straight as an arrow, honest, loving, with an open and astute mind, a wide heart, and an infinite capacity for giving. He was a man to whom everyone was drawn and wanted to be around, especially the children, with whom he used to fool around - they were his source of energy, and through them, he was a child at heart. In his life and in his death, he was a fighter, a precious and loving man. He was 77 years old at his death. May his memory be blessed Back 12.06.1947 - 07.10.2023 76 years old (Pesi Cohen's brother-in-law)

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Yoram Bar Sinai Life Story Family and friends share their stories Yoram Bar Sinai was the son of Avraham Borisonik and Miriam Eckstein, of Kitat Dror , and a member of Kibbutz Be’eri. Yoram was born in July of 1948, at the height of the War of Independence. The young kibbutz was built on a patch of land in the northern Negev, just a stone's throw from Gaza, on the "Eve of Eleven Points" – Yom Kippur, 1946. At that time, there were only men and single women. The married women and the children, among them Miriam and Yoram’s older brother Udi, remained in the training camp in Gedera. Due to unusual circumstances, Miriam, already in the advanced stages of pregnancy, had to go down to the Negev to relieve the medic. When she felt her first labor pains, she was taken by command car to Rehovot. The driver dropped her off at the beginning of the path to the hospital, and by the time Miriam reached the ward, Yoram had practically wriggled himself out. Yoram was taken directly to the children's house, where children slept apart from their parents, but together with their peers; he and Meira even shared a crib. In 1951, the kibbutz became a permanent settlement. The women and children were transported from Gedera to the kibbutz by trucks, together with the iron bed frames and the straw mattresses. The young parents lived in tents, along with an additional "friend" (the kerosine lamp known as a “primus”). The children lived in one of the two remaining abandoned houses and witnessed the kibbutz’s first – and last – snowfall. One night, Fedayun (a group of Palestinian militants) snuck in from Gaza and stole all the coats. While communal education was difficult for his mother, Yoram thrived. He was a very sociable child, trusting the world, content with his lot. He liked to wander through the fields, walking on his hands, running and jumping; he was always curious. Rivka’le, his preschool teacher, enchanted him with her stories. Like all kibbutz children, Yoram participated in every aspect of farm life: calving in the cowshed, working the fields, picking fruit in the orchards. His father, an amateur astronomer, taught him the names of constellations and their paths in the sky. At his grandparents’ home in Nesher, he saw his first synagogue and restaurant, and his three siblings provided abundant opportunities for lively clashes. Kitat Dror was the young kibbutz’s third class. The majority of the students were from the kibbutz, with an ever-changing contingent of "yaldei hutz " who lived on the kibbutz, but whose parents lived elsewhere. Yoram was a good student and a well-behaved child. He learned from his house-mother, Hasya, how to wash floors (making sure not to overlook the corners) and mastered all thirteen pre-Bar Mitzvah tasks (including learning how to sew a button). Additionally, because he was skilled in calligraphy, he may have been the one who wrote the sign “We pledge our allegiance to the flag and to nothing else.” It was no surprise that he would take the youth movement’s leadership course. The friends he made there remained with him throughout his army service and his entire life. He loved working in all the different branches, and learned a little of everything: carpentry, plumbing, welding, auto mechanics, and milking cows. Like all the kibbutzniks of his day, he finished school with an abysmal knowledge of the multiplication table but a deep familiarity with all three volumes of The History of the Labor Movement. In between all his other activities, he learned to play the mandolin and guitar, took drawing lessons, grew a glorious pompadour, and knew how to park a tractor and trailer in reverse. During his third year of community service, he was a counselor in a branch of the youth the movement, HaNoar HaOved in Holon; from there he went on to the army. To his delight, he was drafted into the Seventh Brigade. He loved the jeeps, the terrain, the cheerful vibe in his squadron. He did his part, drawing caricatures of all his friends and of the commander, Shlomo Baum, who had come from the legendary Unit 101. His comrades relied on his innate navigation skills, the campfires he built, and the coffee he prepared at every opportunity. And then there were the chocolate "snakes" his mother Miriam would send from the kibbutz. At the conclusion of his military service, Yoram returned to the kibbutz and relieved Omri in overseeing the orchards. He learned to remove caterpillars from the apricot trees, to thin out peach blossoms, and to organize groups to pick fruit. He was tanner and handsomer than ever. This was when he met Nili, his future wife. They were both guests at friend Ariel’s wedding, he from the groom’s side, she from the bride’s. When she saw him walking across from her, rejoicing at the prospect of seeing his friends, she couldn’t resist the temptation and stopped him. Asking him to show her his hands, she said, “If you don’t have a ring, I want to marry you.” He was naïve and didn’t realize she was serious. Meanwhile, Yoram began studying in a preparatory program for the Technion. When the Yom Kippur War broke out, he was called in for reserve duty. He spent eight months in the sand dunes of Tasa, while Uziel helped prepare him for the entrance exams in architecture. He was surprised, and pleased when he was accepted. During his five years of study, he married Nili, and had two children, Michael and Ruthie. Every two weeks he returned home to his family, working a Shabbat shift in the cowshed, organizing meetings, working in the orchard, and assembling groups to work in the cottonfields. When they returned to the kibbutz, his wife gave him an ultimatum: either they did away with communal sleeping arrangements for the children, or they moved back to Haifa. Yoram understood what this entailed but agreed to broach the topic anyway. He facilitated discussions, attempted to convince the old-timers, participated in local politics, examined the economic feasibility, negotiated with the movement – whatever was necessary. By the end of the year, the decision was ratified: they would make the change. The conditions were agreed upon: an extra room would be built for every house, the transition would take place in a single day, and the public services would be at a higher level than the private houses. And so it was. Yochai was three years old when he left Ofarim; Noa was born into sleeping at home. Yoram planned the expansion of the houses. He was also asked to help out with building, as everyone who came back from studying had to serve the kibbutz for a year. He poured cement, learned from Brandy how to supervise the execution of architectural plans, and led the Dagan class. At the end of the year, he was told that the teacher of the Kitat Haruvi had left, and so he, Yoram, would have to take his place. Architecture would wait another year. Finally, he began his work in the planning department, studying under Vittorio Corilandi. He loved sketching houses and trees with B6 pencils, drawing maps with special markers, and studying his impressive set of rapidograph pens, back when they still erased ink from parchment paper with an exact-o knife. Eventually, he specialized in planning settlements. He had a comprehensive understanding of the rules of planning and construction, mastered the politics of the local and national planning committees, and assisted many kibbutzim through the exhausting process of getting their building plans approved. His expertise in planning agricultural settlements brought him to Africa. His favorite project was Elda Nova, a village in Angola where people wanted to build an agricultural cooperative for soldiers released from both sides of the civil war. Not far from there, he also planned and built a neighborhood for wealthy expatriates who had returned home. There were other projects, and dreams of projects, in a range of places – from Senegal to China – but the house he loved most was Kibbutz Be’eri’s print shop. He was particularly excited by the ability to build The Calanit Site – the new division of credit cards – that was carried out according to the highest international standards. And all within one hundred days. In his personal life, Yoram was a beloved space cadet. Most people forgave his chronic lateness and absent-mindedness. They loved his intelligence, his gentleness, his equanimity, and his remarkable ability not to fight with anyone, ever. He simply refused to get drawn into any power struggles or hidden agendas. He was a decent man, the kind of kibbutznik proponents of cooperative education envisioned: a hard-working, cooperative man with a socialist and politically-aware conscience – and at the same time, a creative individual. “The grandfather who can do anything,” he liked to say when people asked him to repair something. On Shabbat morning, when he realized that the terrorists had infiltrated the kibbutz, Yoram took the automatic pistol he’d received from his grandfather Yehoshua, got on his bicycle, and rode to Ruthie’s house halfway across the kibbutz. He went out to her porch, chose a good lookout point on the stairs, and stood there with his coffee in one hand and his gun in the other. He was killed while trying to prevent seven terrorists from forcing their way into his daughter and grandchildren’s home. He was seventy-five years old. This is how we will remember him: The story of the Tree Project is best told by the trees themselves. Some of them ten years old, the tallest of them are those that were planted at the edges of the rows of jojoba trees, allowing them to be attached to the nozzles of the irrigation pipes. They were initially supported by wooden stakes, and marked in a different color every year. He checked on them whenever he rode his bicycle, and once every two or three weeks he would go with his golf cart and his blue barrels of water, the electric saw he’d recently purchased, and his top-of-the-line pruning shears. He tended to every tree until it was a head taller than him; then he took it out for financial independence. Eventually, Dan and the grandchildren joined the project, along with members of his kibbutz and his unit. May he rest in peace among the carob-tree plot that he planted, at the fork between the road leading up to Nahabir and Derekh Habitzurim. Back 25.07.1948 - 07.10.2023 75 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Galit Majzner-Carbone Life Story Family and friends share their stories Galit, whose given name was Ginnette, was born in Sydney, Australia to Simon and Marinette Majzner. Following the Six-Day War, her fervent Zionist parents immigrated to Israel in 1968, settling right from the start in Kibbutz Be'eri. Galit, the eldest, and her younger brother Danny, born four years later, were both natives of Australia. Her younger sister, Kinneret, was born in Israel. Galit joined "Kitat Rimon" with the other children on the kibbutz, but her soul often drifted into a world of its own, with English books, music, and movies. She lived in her own world but created meaningful relationships with many people in the community who held similar feelings of being a part of, but not quite belonging. A “girl-woman” with a compassionate soul, she was empathetic, served as a confidante, was supportive, while acknowledging the uniqueness in each person she encountered. Galit served in the Air Force in the Ramon Air-Force Base during her military service. After the army, like many others, she went on to a year of service on Kibbutz Yitav (now a moshav) in the Jordan Valley. Following her additional year of service, she traveled to Australia. Upon her return, she settled back on Kibbutz Be'eri and joined various branches of work. At some point during those years, she pursued studies at Seminar Hakibbutzim College. In her mid-twenties, she met Alex Carbone, who came from Italy to volunteer on the kibbutz. They soon became a couple, and later, had three children together: Maia, the eldest, Tom, the middle child, and Nicole, the youngest. Only after the birth of their second child did the couple officially marry. They divorced after 20 years together. Over the years, Galit worked in various branches of the kibbutz. For many years, she worked in the printing house, and before her retirement, she returned to her great love – books - serving as the kibbutz librarian. In recent years, her four grandchildren were a continuous source of pride, and provided her with great joy. She was a loving grandmother and took tremendous pleasure in spending time with them. On Saturday, October 7, 2023, when the terrorists burst into her home, she was able to speak with Nicole until the very last moment, uttering her parting words just before she was murdered. Galit will be remembered by the members of the kibbutz and other friends and as a wise woman with a sense of humor, humility, and kindness, whose smile left its mark in the hearts of so many people. She was a true heroine. May her memory be a blessing. Back 20.9.1957 - 07.10.2023 66 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Gil Boyum Life Story Family and friends share their stories Gil was born 55 years ago in Kibbutz Mesilot in the Beit She'an Valley, second son to Nathan and Tamar, after Yaron. He was followed by sister Shiri. In April 1973, when Gil was five, the Boyum family was involved in a serious car accident. Nathan was killed. Later, Tamar met Ephraim, a member of Kibbutz Be’eri, and the family moved to the kibbutz. There, Gil's half-brother, Lior, was born. Be’eri became Gil's home, where he later married his wife and where he raised his own wonderful family: his life’s achievement. Gil, a member of the “Hadar” cohort (Kibbutz Be’eri’s 21st cohort), did not like to study; his passion was the fields. From the age of 16, he was involved in cultivating field crops, cotton, wheat and potatoes. He spent long hours alone on the tractor, just him, the sky in his eyes and music in his ears. Music was one of Gil’s great loves. In his youth he was a DJ in the kibbutz pub. He served in the Armored Corps in the army. After his discharge, he flew with Shai Davidi, a kibbutz friend, to spend time some time in Thailand. After returning to Israel, he began working in field crop cultivation and was later promoted to operations manager. Gil was a man of the land and the fields – yet his hands were always clean and neat. In 1997, Gil met Ayelet, from Sderot who was at the time living in Tel Aviv. Ayelet's father, the late Shimon Revivo, who worked in Be’eri, planned it all and hit the nail on the head. That year, Ayelet's parents, Shimon and Simcha, insisted on inviting half the kibbutz to the Mimouna (a celebratory dinner on the night following the 7 days of Passover) event at their home. There, Shimon introduced the two young people to each other. Gil's shy smile and huge blue eyes attracted Ayelet. A month later they were already a “couple.” They talked on the phone from the moment they woke up until they bid each other good night. Ayelet soon moved back to Sderot and then joined Gil in Be’eri. They married in June 1999. The henna ceremony was held in Sderot, and the wedding took place around the kibbutz pool. Many of the guests jumped into the water in their clothes. And the joy had just begun. Ayelet and Gil wanted a large family. Their eldest son, Inbar, another victim of October 7, was born in 2000. Fatherhood was seventh heaven for Gil. He adored taking Inbar for rides on the tractor. Omer was born on Shavuot 2003. Anog was born in 2005 and Adi in 2007. Gil was a warm, devoted father. The Boyum family's living room overflowed with games, laughter and joy. Gil would carry the children on his back like a horse. They would cuddle closely together. His love for them was all-encompassing. Gil was also very devoted to his mother and mother-in-law. Ayelet's mother always said that she had gained another son. When Ayelet's father passed away 15 years ago, her brothers looked up to Gil as the paternal figure. In 2005, Gil retired from field crops and joined the Be’eri Printing Press. It took this man, who since boyhood had loved quiet fields and open spaces, some time to get used to working long hours under a roof in a factory and amidst machines, but Gil soon became an integral part of the business. He began on the shop floor and worked his way up to managing the Max credit card production site at Be’eri Press. Gil was loved by all the workers, both those from in and outside the kibbutz. He was a thoughtful and professional "boss." A man of peace. He never raised his voice, and for the most part, a man of few words. But when he had to say something, he said it. And when he did, everyone listened. Gil loved to travel in Israel and all over the world with Ayelet and his family. Ayelet would dream, and Gil would fulfill her dreams. This is how they ended up on a family caravan trip to Portugal. Gil and Ayelet also dreamed of buying a small house facing the sea in Cyprus when they retired. As music lovers, their home was filled with music, and they attended many concerts when traveling. Gil also enjoyed collecting gadgets, and he was also obsessed with the news. He always had to be aware of all the current information. Upon his release from reserve duty, Gil joined Kibbutz Be’eri’s security patrol. Gil was happy during the last week of his life. The family enjoyed a lot of time together, and during the intermediate days of Sukkot, he took the entire family to visit his father's grave at Kibbutz Mesilot. Upon their return, he said to Ayelet: "I’ve fulfilled my role. I did what I was meant to do. " Early in the morning of October 7, 2023, Gil was ready and waiting for his weekly bike ride with his regular group of cyclist friends – his brother-in-law Ilan Weiss and his friend Gal Shremek. At 6:13, Ilan messaged that he was foregoing that day’s ride, so Gil went back to sleep. At 6:30, he, Ayelet and Adi moved into their safe room. At ten to seven he was ordered to join the security patrol. Ayelet begged him not to go, but he said he had to. He got on his bike and set out to defend the kibbutz, the house he loved so much. At 7:35 a.m., he was shot and died of his wounds. At the same moment, his son, Inbar, was murdered elsewhere. Gil – "Gili" to his mother, "Gilgul" to his friends, "Mami" to Ayelet, "Abush" to Anog, and "Daddy" to his three sons – spoke little but loved with all his heart. He had a big, enveloping and confident hug. He was a generous and loving spouse and father. Every night, until his very last, he told Ayelet that he loved her. Gil is gone, Gil's embrace is gone. May his memory be a blessing. Back 06.02.1968 - 07.10.2023 55 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Rinat Even Life Story Family and friends share their stories Rinat was born in August 1979 on Kibbutz Nir Am, the daughter of Batya and Moti Segev and granddaughter of founding members of the kibbutz. Rinat may have been the baby of the family, but she knew how to hold her own. She was a leader in the kibbutz youth movement and stood out in her own unique way – she never aligned herself with the majority and always acted according to her own beliefs. Her rebelliousness was expressed in subtle ways: she loved Zehava Ben and Beitar Jerusalem. In the army, Rinat served as a squad leader in the Nahal Brigade. After her discharge, she worked in Nir Am and later in Be'eri. That's how she met Chen. Rinat devoted herself to social work. She completed her master's degree and aimed toward her PhD while working with struggling families and at-risk youth. In the kibbutz, Rinat was the coordinator of the social committee and was in charge of the memorial ceremonies. She treated every role and task as her own personal mission, moving heaven and earth to find what she thought were the ideal solutions. Rinat enjoyed a variety of pastimes. A year before her death, she attended the World Cup in Qatar with her brother Amit. She learned Arabic on her own, and when she went to the Sinai, in September 2023, she already knew enough to get by. Asked if she wasn't afraid to travel, she replied that “you only live once.” And she certainly knew how to live and enjoy life, without hesitation and with great delight. Chen and Rinat got married on September 1, 2005, in a modest ceremony held beside the kibbutz pool with family and friends. The loving couple had four children. The Even family home was warm and inviting. Chen took care of the children. They were the center of his universe and his pride and joy. Rinat took care of the whole world, always available, always compassionate. The Even family home was a center of support and love for the kibbutz. Humble, surrounded by friends, loving and loved by all. Tomer and Nir, the entire kibbutz stands together beside you. Forever. Rinat Even was 44 at the time of her death. May her memory be a blessing. Back 25.08.1979 - 07.10.2023 44 years old