Matti Weiss

Matti and Amir. Amir and Matti. 

Both were born in February 1954. Matti was born in Holon to Zizi and Marco Altras who came to Israel from Morocco. Amir was born in kibbutz Hefziba, the son of Mira and Avri Weiss. Matti lived with her family in a one-room apartment in a neighborhood built for new immigrants. She was 16 when her brother Avi was born, and the family moved to Eilat. She served as an operations sergeant in Sharm-a-Shiekh and spent the Yom Kippur War in a bunker in the mountains over the town. After the war she and her army friends traveled around the Sinai mountains. After the army, she worked as a ground hostess at Eilat airport, where she met Amir.

Amir was Mira and Avri’s second child. Their families had come to Israel from Romania and Hungary. Their firstborn son died in infancy. Amir and his younger brother, Raviv, lost their mother to cancer. Avri remarried when Amir was 12, and the family moved to Holon, where Asnat and Ilan, his two half-siblings, were born.

Amir loved kibbutz life and the views of Mount Gilboa. When he was in school on the kibbutz he learned to play the cello. He went to the Thelma Yellin High School of Art and Music where he played cello and double bass. He served as an officer in the quartermaster corps, and following his discharge from the military, as a security guard for Arkia Airlines in Eilat. That is where he met Matti, who eventually proposed to him. Amir refused, and a week later, on the beach, proposed to her. Their wedding was a modest one, in the Holon rabbinate building. They became inseparable.

They settled in Eilat, where their twins, Ran and Michal were born. They next moved to kibbutz Ramat Rachel, birthplace of their son Yuval. Three years later, they looked for a different kibbutz, and were offered a small, temporary apartment in Be’eri. They moved there, waiting for the larger apartment to be built. They settled in Be’eri in 1985, and their son Oren was born there.

Matti’s childhood dream was to be a teacher. The games she loved playing with her friends were that she was the teacher and they – her pupils. She made her dream come true. She received her B.Ed., and then got her M.A. in educational-systems management. She began as a teacher in Be’eri, and later established and ran a private school, Nofim, on the kibbutz. Nofim espoused the values of farming and agriculture.

Matti was one of the first to work outside of Be’eri. She worked for the Branco Weiss Education System, developing pedagogical content and managing educational programs all around the country. She then moved to the Rashi Foundation and became part of the Katzir Foundation, which provides scholarships for students. She then continued to guidance, personal counseling, and coaching for school principals. She continued energetically after her retirement, working for the community-art program at Sapir College. There, too, she did an outstanding job.

Matti was a natural leader. Wherever life took her she was an enterprising trailblazer, a significant figure who, with great ability, managed people and teams. Amir, who from a young age loved wide open spaces and nature, found his destiny in agriculture, especially field crops, which he managed for many years. His children say that “Our best childhood memories are being with Abba on the tractor, working in the peanut and cotton plantation and the carrot fields.” He expressed his musical talent by singing in all kibbutz ceremonies, most notably Omer, Omer which he sang every year on the day of the first harvest, one day before the Passover seder, when the farmers harvested the first stalks of grain.

When he left the field crops, Amir went to Rupin College to study business administration. He then joined the Be’eri printing plant, where, for many years, he was manager of the warehouse and the logistics center. He continued working there and volunteering, even after his retirement.

Matti and Amir got to share a great love. Despite their differences – he was quiet and introverted; she was active and energetic – they complemented each other and did everything together. They both loved Israeli songs, and Amir also loved classical music. They both loved being close to nature, the landscapes, the vastness of the Negev. Their children’s clearest memory is the “anemone picnic.” Every February, when they celebrated their birthdays, they’d go out with their children and grandchildren to the wildflower fields around the kibbutz and enjoy a family picnic. Their daughter Michal said, “It was more important to them than anything else.”

Nothing was dearer to them than family. “They were involved, protective parents,” their children said. “They were always there for us, and we always knew we could count on them. We could call them from any place in the country, any time, and Abba would come to pick us up from a dark road or a faraway army base. Our parents’ life objective was to have a strong, united family. It was they who brought us all back to live in Be’eri.” Amir and Matti had ten grandchildren. They were devoted grandparents, happy to care for the grandchildren, who felt that their grandparents’ house was their second home. They devoted their time and energy to the grandchildren and had a close and special relationship with each one.

After they retired a few years ago, they traveled the world. These were their best years. They devoured life – they wanted to see everything. They planned to travel, to see, to experience. They had many dreams, all of which were brutally severed.

When the attack on Be’eri began on October 7, 2023, Matti and Amir locked themselves at home, as did all residents of Be’eri. They were injured and knew they would not make it. Their last words were words of great love to their children and grandchildren. “They went together,” their children say, “and if we can find comfort in anything, it is that they will not have to live without each other. They were the best of friends and they loved each other. Ima always said, ‘I don’t know what I’ll do without him.’” Amir and Matti. Matti and Amir. Loving and caring in life, they remained together in death.

May their memory be a blessing.