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Yesterday, three Israeli soldiers died in Lebanon.
One of them was American. His name was Michael Levin, and he was 21 years old.
He grew up in Pennsylvania and worked (and may have attended camp at) Camp Ramah in the Poconos.
He was also a Boger Nativ (an alumnus of the Nativ program, USY's year program in Israel). He went on Nativ the year before my youngest sister.
She's in college now. Had he not made Aliyah (moved to Israel), he would probably be in college now too. Instead, he was serving his compulsory time in the Israeli army.
Tomorrow or the day after, my father will be going to his funeral.
It's scary sometimes how things hit so close to home.
I don't think I knew him, so it doesn't affect me personally, but still... it's kind of strange.
It's Jewish Geography turned on its ear - everyone knows someone or knows someone who knows someone. My father's former boss lost his great nephew (as I mentioned before); one of my father's office staff lost her best friend's brother. One of my sister's group staff members was dealing with a very distraught boyfriend - he lost his chevruta partner (study partner).
On top of that, one of the members of the office staff is serving in the reserves, and the Israelis who are on the summer program staff keep getting called up - one from my sister's group had to go serve for a day or two before they let him return to his group. And then there are the families who hope and pray that their children will not get called upon next.
And tomorrow or the next day, my father will be attending a funeral of a fallen soldier.
It's strange - I feel like on the one hand, we lose few soldiers - three here, eight there - it could have been a hundred - and yet, every one of them belonged to a family and a network of friends. And so many of those few have networks that connect back to people I know.
Which makes every individual soldier who has died significant, so that it becomes harder to fall back on numbers and harder to say, "only" three.
Like I said, I did not know Michael Levin. I only know of him. I know people who knew him. But still, it has made me think.
Baruch Dayan Emet
One of them was American. His name was Michael Levin, and he was 21 years old.
He grew up in Pennsylvania and worked (and may have attended camp at) Camp Ramah in the Poconos.
He was also a Boger Nativ (an alumnus of the Nativ program, USY's year program in Israel). He went on Nativ the year before my youngest sister.
She's in college now. Had he not made Aliyah (moved to Israel), he would probably be in college now too. Instead, he was serving his compulsory time in the Israeli army.
Tomorrow or the day after, my father will be going to his funeral.
It's scary sometimes how things hit so close to home.
I don't think I knew him, so it doesn't affect me personally, but still... it's kind of strange.
It's Jewish Geography turned on its ear - everyone knows someone or knows someone who knows someone. My father's former boss lost his great nephew (as I mentioned before); one of my father's office staff lost her best friend's brother. One of my sister's group staff members was dealing with a very distraught boyfriend - he lost his chevruta partner (study partner).
On top of that, one of the members of the office staff is serving in the reserves, and the Israelis who are on the summer program staff keep getting called up - one from my sister's group had to go serve for a day or two before they let him return to his group. And then there are the families who hope and pray that their children will not get called upon next.
And tomorrow or the next day, my father will be attending a funeral of a fallen soldier.
It's strange - I feel like on the one hand, we lose few soldiers - three here, eight there - it could have been a hundred - and yet, every one of them belonged to a family and a network of friends. And so many of those few have networks that connect back to people I know.
Which makes every individual soldier who has died significant, so that it becomes harder to fall back on numbers and harder to say, "only" three.
Like I said, I did not know Michael Levin. I only know of him. I know people who knew him. But still, it has made me think.
Baruch Dayan Emet
