Our story will have a good ending.
I met Sarit through an article they did about us—three mothers who lost their sons in this war.
I choose to break down this sentence word by word and reflect on each individually:
Story – Since October 7th, I’ve been developing my storytelling skills. My son Yotam, who was kidnapped from Kibbutz Kfar Aza, managed to escape captivity but was killed by friendly fire after five days during which he and his fellow captives were in Gaza, trying to find a way back to us.

Today, exactly four months ago, on December 15, 2023, you gained your freedom.
Three heroes, Samer Al-Tatlaka, Alon Shamriz, and Yotam aim.
Fate placed you together as a fighting team, battling to maintain your sanity, fighting to return home to us.
The teamwork you displayed became known to us through the words of Vician, himself a freedom fighter, who was released from captivity and told us your story in Hamas captivity.

On the morning of October 7th, we, the residents of the Gaza envelope, woke up to a day that was supposed to be filled with joy but turned into one of darkness.
That morning, my son, Yotam Chaim, a 28-year-old musician, was preparing to leave his home in Kibbutz Kfar Aza for a performance with his band, Perspore, in Tel Aviv.
He was excited, and even the rockets that began falling near his home in the kibbutz didn’t bother him. He was certain it would soon be over, and we’d be able to meet as planned.

I often wonder why the letter ו (vav) is added before the word “אהבת” (love) in this phrase. It could have simply said “תאהב לרעך כמוך” (love your neighbor as yourself), and we would still understand the concept.

Yes, for memory—this is not a mistake. A day for memory.
I will never forget October 7th, 2023. I will never ask, “When was that again? Remind me?”
On that day, my life, my family’s life, and all of our lives took a sharp, painful turn that we can’t ignore.
Another day for memory is December 15th, 2023—the day we were informed, along with my family and all of you, of the tragic death of our son, Yotam Chaim.

The words “in Hamas captivity” send chills through each of us, as their relevance today is so present.
My son, Yotam Chaim, spent 65 days in Hamas captivity and five additional days free, outside of captivity.
During those 70 days, I refused to wear a necklace that said, “My heart is captive in Gaza.” Instead, I wore a necklace that said, “Believe to see the good.”

A few months ago, I already knew I would be speaking this year at the Tikkun Leil Shavuot event at Beit Avi Chai in Jerusalem.