Heartbreaking Reality from a Terror Victim

We me Hezi at a bar mitzvah event that we recently sponsored for terror victims. Hezi agreed to be interviewed by Barry and share his personal story with us.

When Hezi was serving in the Israeli army as an officer, one of his duties was to station soldiers in the guard post. One of the soldiers had to be replaced, so Hezi stationed a different soldier in his place. In a tragic turn of events, the soldier was killed during his guard duty. When Hezi went to visit the family during the Shiva, the soldier's mom asked him, "Why my son?" This difficult experience followed him around, but he somehow managed to overcome and live a normal life. But then death crossed his path again in the cruellest way. During Operation Protective Edge, while he was serving in the reserve army, a rocket hit a house in Kibbutz Nahal Oz. A young boy was in the house and died from the attack. This broke Hezi, and since then he has been suffering from what is knows as "the second cycle of terror victims"—a post-traumatic stress disorder.

From the depth of his heart, Hezi wrote a letter to the child:

 

Daniel,

I assume that quite a few people just watched the report about the moment after.

The few seconds from the moment the rocket fell until the deadly hit of the shrapnel that destroyed, in a split second, your soft, innocent, and angelic body . . .

Daniel, I want to personally ask you for forgiveness. When I went into your house, I saw your father in a most devastating state, trying with the last of his strength to pick you up, or what was left of you. Those moments, when your father tried to be with you . . . I was the one who removed him from your presence, from your home, and caused you to be alone. . . . Dealing with all this pain, without help from Dad or a last hug from Mom, with wars of adults and a whole life that you missed. Although I knew that I couldn't change your condition, I tried, out of a personal conviction, as I promised your father not to leave the place, to collect you. And no . . . unfortunately I didn't mange to do that.

Now you are an angel, that is for sure.

And again . . . please forgive me, Daniel.