Margalith is Rebecca’s sister

Thank you for being here.

This is our last evening of mourning in the shive. Tomorrow we continue the count in the “30 days” called the shloshim. On February 20 – at the end of the shloshim – the stone on Rebecca’s grave will be unveiled.

Also on behalf of Asher, I would like to share a few words. According to Jewish traditions, after the funeral follows a week of mourning, the shiva, during which the family is supported by the community, friends, and family. This is known as “shiva sitting” because it is customary to sit at home on low chairs.

During the first two days, we sat in our temporary home in Kfar Maccabia, where hundreds of people who knew Rebecca from the army, her Mechina, and Habonim, as well as those who only knew her story, came to express their support. On the third day, we flew back to the Netherlands.

For the past three evenings, we chose to sit shiva in the three living rooms that were a “home away from home” for us and for Rebecca: the synagogue in Scheveningen, where she almost literally took her first steps; the beautiful Liberal Jewish Community in The Hague, co-founded by Mom’s ancestors, where Rebecca attended Jewish classes, became Bat Mitzvah, taught, and led services.

And today, we are at this evening organized by Habonim Dror, where many of Rebecca’s ideas were formed, and where she gained her first leadership experience. We heard inspiring stories yesterday and last Thursday from Rabbi Katzman, Rabbi Soetendorp, and other speakers. Tonight, many will also speak about Rebecca, as a member of the communities, as a madricha of Habonim, and so on. However, we would like to say something about how she inspired us as a sister, continues to inspire us, and will always inspire us.

In this regard, I want to focus on a sentence we often sing at Habonim and also sing at home regularly: “kol haolam koelo gesher tzar meod vehajikar lo levachet klal,” which means the whole world is a narrow bridge. The essential thing is to have no fear at all. Rebecca strongly held onto the phrase “vehajikar lo levachet klal,” that one does not have to be afraid. This was her message to Asher when he became Bar Mitzvah, and the phrase was also on the note Rebecca wrote for us in case something happened, found in her room last week.

I don’t always find it easy not to be afraid. For example, when we used to argue, and I feared that things wouldn’t be okay between us. Also, when she moved to Israel, I feared we would lose contact, and I would lose her to that country. When she joined the army, I feared for her physical well-being during the war. What if the worst were to happen?

The worst has happened.

But now that she has passed away, I understand “lo levachet klal” better than ever. I understand that I don’t have to be afraid because what I was afraid of has happened, but I haven’t lost Rebecca. We carry her in our hearts for the rest of our lives. So from now on, “vehajikar lo levachet klal” applies to us too. We know that we must move forward.

And we can move forward.