Noah Hershkovitz Life Story Noah Hershkovitz was born in 1955 in the Yad Eliyahu neighborhood in Tel Aviv, the third son of Yosef and Fortune who made aliyah to Israel from Poland and Egypt. Noah came after his older siblings, Rachel and Zion, and after him came Yisrael, the youngest brother who died last year. In high school, Noah chose a course of study in biology, and spent his spare time in the Noar Oved VeLomed movement, in which, after it was joined by the “Barak” contingent of the airborne Nahal unit, a connection was formed between him and the kibbutz movement and values. Noah fought in the Yom Kippur war and the Lebanon war. Those experiences left a strong impression upon his soul, but he did not have the resources to share his burden with others. After his marriage to Ma’ayana, Noah worked in the cowshed and in the carton factory in Kibbutz Ein Hashlosha. When the family moved to Be’eri, he continued his work in the cowshed as well as in the printing house. When he was forty, he studied civil engineering, and after completing his studies, he worked as a civil engineer in the A.B. Planning company in Sderot which specialized in building reinforced rooms. Noah especially paid heed to the subject of safety, and safety mishaps would disturb him greatly. He believed that everything that had been designed, whether a building or a machine or a tool, should be durable, reliable, and safe. In fact, those were his characteristics: fairness, loyalty and responsibility. Anyone who asked something of him knew that Noah – “Nachka” – would do it for him precisely and with all his heart. Noah had golden hands. His main hobby was carpentry, and whole generations of kibbutz children enjoyed the sets that he built, the games, the toys, the doll houses and the variety of crazy inventions for which he collected spare parts, machine parts and other items that he utilized in the workshop next to his home.He loved to ride bicycles and covered large distances with friends from the riding club or during solitary hours that he needed in the fields and in the forest which enclose Be’eri. Noah and Ma’ayana met in 1975 in Kibbutz Kalia. Noah came with his group of friends and met Ma’ayana who joined the kibbutz for a year of service. Both were young, beautiful, chatterboxes, and full of life, and the fire of love burned between them from their first meeting – a nighttime swim on an off-limits beach at the Dead Sea. Several months later, Ma’ayana was drafted into the Communications Corps and was stationed in Jerusalem. Despite the distance, they continued to nurture their relationship, which was formalized at Kibbutz Ein Hashlosha in August 1978 following a nighttime telephone conversation in which Ma’ayana notified Noah that she had fulfilled her military service and that they were going to get married. Noah and Ma’ayana loved the kibbutz idea, and when they moved to Kibbutz Be’eri in 1986, they felt that they had found their home and called it a special piece of the Garden of Eden. The aspect of their relationship which supported them through the ups and downs of life over the years was their great love. In addition, they shared values and common areas of interest: their love of sports which led them to swim and ride together, love of art and culture, the world of classical music and Land of Israel songs, and the love of handicrafts in which they would combine their skills in the areas of carpentry and art, and almost always for someone else – the children, the grandchildren, nursery schools and the kibbutz school. In their warm home in Be’eri, in the “border patrol” neighborhood in which Tamir, their third child, was born, a tribe of friends of their age formed. In the common grassy areas in the heart of the neighborhood, children ran around freely and barefoot and felt at home in each of the houses in the neighborhood. Noah and Ma’ayana shared household tasks, and the friends who came in would partake of Noah’s orange cake or Ma’ayana’s wonderful cheesecake. But more than anything, Noah and Ma’ayana’s lives were dedicated to their children, Ella, Amit, and Tamir, and to their seven loving grandchildren: Amir, Daniel, Oz, Lavie, Ma’ayan, Raz, and Naomi. Noah would play with them and Ma’ayana would spend hours doing creative activities, telling stories and swimming with them in the kibbutz pool. Noah always emphasized to the children the value of a united family, and Ma’ayana was the strong woman who lived life fully and inspired them to flourish and grow. Noah and Ma’ayana were secular people who lived a life full of faith. Their faith was expressed in the respect that they felt for all people and their ability to respect and see the divine light in everyone. Back 11.05.1955 - 07.10.2023 68 years old

Mordechai Naveh Life Story Mordechai was born in Romania, in Iasi. He was the second child of Reuven and Pnina Simon, Shoah survivors who had lived through the worst of times. His older sister, Devorah, used to call him “my big brother,” referring to his large body and his inner strength. Coming from a family of Cohanim , Mordechai had strong memories of the synagogue they went to when he was a child, and always missed the rain and snow in Romania. He used to tell his children and grandchildren about the family’s poverty, how, as a child, he had to walk over a kilometer carrying a bucket to draw water from the well. He spoke about the excitement when his father took him to the market and bought him an orange. He was excited again, when toward the end of this life he took his family to his native town. He was so proud of his family. The Simon family came on aliya in 1959 and settled in Beer Sheva, where Yehuda was born. Reuven worked for Solel Boneh while their mother Pnina was a seamstress. When he was 13, Mordechai went to live in Be’eri and joined the Brosh class, with youngsters from Aliyat Hanoar. He used to say that he had two bar mitzvahs – one with his family in synagogue, and one in the kibbutz, with his friends who, over the years, became family. Mordechai enlisted in the navy in 1967. He was a frogman in the 13th course, and then served as a submarine mechanic until 1970. He changed his name to the Hebrew Naveh, the name of a naval commander he held in great esteem. He was proud of his service and of his frogmen comrades, who became lifelong friends. They were the only ones who were allowed to call him Motti. He was scheduled to board the doomed submarine, Dakkar, but his name did not come up in the lottery, and his life was spared. He lost many of his friends and was part of the search team. He met Meira, his wife, when they were both young people on the kibbutz. He was a new immigrant, she a native kibbutz girl, a year his junior. Mordechai was a messy type, and the orderly Meira found this annoying. Only after they were both out of the army and back in Be’eri did the old quarrels give way to great love. They got married on the eve of Lag Ba’omer, 1970. Asheri, their firstborn son, was born a year later followed by his sister Gitit and brothers Elad and Dotan. After the army, Mordechai returned to Be’eri. His vision was to build the kibbutz. He went to Ruppin College to study civil engineering, but the kibbutz pressured him to come back and head construction on the kibbutz. He left his studies just before graduation. A man of action and vision, he managed all construction for 15 years. The new kibbutz communal dining hall was built under his supervision, as was the assembly hall. Homes were enlarged to accommodate the transition from children living in children’s homes to living with their families. He later supervised additional large projects such as the sports center, the amphitheater near the kibbutz, and constructing safe rooms in each home. Mordechai never compromised, right down to the smallest detail, a perfectionist who stood his ground. He insisted on doing things his way and did not spare his words to make his point. He could talk to anyone, and loved doing it. He had wonderful relationships with everyone – including the Bedouin workers from Rahat and the Palestinian workers from Gaza. When Meira bravely battled cancer, he was her partner in battle. He did all he could to support her and nurse her in her last years. She died in July 2000, and left Mordechai and the family painfully bereaved. He asked that a line from a song be engraved on her tombstone: “I have love, and it will prevail.” Mordechai was a very warm and involved father, and a wonderful grandfather to his eight grandchildren – Amit, Linoy, Shakked, Hilla, Erez, Dror, Agam, and Klil. He always organized birthday parties and family gatherings, and, as with everything he did, he thought of everything. He also enjoyed the good things in life – good food, a drink, and cigars. About two years after Meira’s death, Yona Fricker entered Mordechai’s life. Their relationship blossomed into a strong bond. Mordechai was like a father to Yona’s three daughters – Aviv, Sigal, and Stav, and he cared for Yona’s granddaughters as if they were his own. The boy who came to the kibbutz as a new immigrant gradually became one of the central figures on the kibbutz. He was active in kibbutz life, ran the pub, and helped manage the basketball team. He worked out, swam, and played basketball until his legs prevented him from doing so. It was impossible to reach him at 9 pm on Thursdays. That’s when the Euro League games were on. And where the Maccabi team was, so was he. He loved music – the Gypsy Kings, Arik Einstein, and Mati Caspi, and following Meira, the Gevatron. More than anything, he loved singing Let My People Go at the kibbutz seder. When smoking in the communal dining room was banned, he made sure to have a tent erected outside for smokers. The smokey tent was the hotbed for many deep friendships. When Mordechai was approached to study the idea of growing jojoba, a crop not yet known in Israel, he got on board and set up the new branch of agriculture. He returned to Ruppin College and was certified as an organic farmer. He learned all the secrets, established a jojoba press, recruited kibbutz members to help plant and harvest the crop, training them for the job and providing them with memorable breakfasts. In recent years he returned to carpentry, which he always loved, and ran the “Geri-carpentry,” where retired kibbutz members create wooden toys, and deliver them to the home for the elderly on the kibbutz, where the residents painted and decorated the toys. Mordechai was home on the morning of Saturday, October 7, 2023. When the members were told to lock their secure spaces, he went on WhatsApp to instruct them. When he found out that Yona could not lock the secure room and that there were people in her home, he never thought twice and went immediately to rescue her. There was no other option – he had already lost one woman he loved, and he could not see life worth living without Yona. He managed to get to her neighborhood, where he was slightly wounded. Two men from the preparedness unit brought him to a safe place and took care of him. The shooting then resumed, and the men went out to fight. Tragically, the terrorists blew up the building. Mordechai was a man of large size and huge heart. The vacuum he left is equally huge. The kibbutz he built with his own hand suffered greatly. But the roots remain firm and strong. The houses will be rebuilt. The flowers will bloom again. May his memory be a blessing. Back 26.06.1947 - 07.10.2023 76 years old

Haim Zohar Life Story Haim Zohar was born in Teheran (Iran) on November 29, 1950 to Victoria and Shmuel, the third of seven children. When Haim was seven years old, the family immigrated to Israel. At first, they settled in Hatzor Haglilit, and after a short time they moved to Kfar Saba. Victoria worked as a cook in Meir Hospital, Shmuel for the municipality, and the whole family faced the hardships of absorption, language acquisition and, most of all, the quest for belonging, which was crucial in Haim’s life and a success due to his sociable character, sense of humor and kindheartedness. When he was fifteen years old, Haim came to Kibbutz Be’eri as Yeled Hutz (a child from a family not from the kibbutz), and here he found his home. The Aluma group, to which he belonged together with other boys and girls who came to the kibbutz without family, became his family. An everlasting bond was forged between the young people. Their lives were bound together and they shared a common language, formative experiences, and most of all the same thing Haim was looking for: belonging. The boys and girls learned and worked together, while they became acquainted with the different branches of the kibbutz, under the supervision of Weksler, their teacher. In the army, Haim served with the paratroopers. He fought in the War of Attrition and on the southern front in the Yom Kippur War. He didn’t talk much about his experiences in the war, and as soon as the war ended, he devoted himself to his work in the kibbutz. About his beginnings he told in the simple and casual way that characterized him, with a little smile: ‘One day I saw Motke Manor on a moped and I said to him: “Let me ride a bit.” Motke said: “Only on condition that you work as a plumber.” I have a weakness for mopeds, and so I ended up working as a plumber for two years before I moved to printing.’ He followed the growth of the printing house with pride, and saw how it became a source of comfort and economic security for the members of the kibbutz. During the time that the Israeli pound was replaced by the shekel the printing machines worked almost 24 hours a day, and Haim with them, around the clock. Haim held different positions, until he found his niche as the driver of the printing house. Every day he got up at five and drove to many places all over the country to deliver the goods. The baguette with pastrami that he ate between his rides made his day, he used to say. He stayed patient and friendly even under stress, and it was evident that he took pride in the printing house even when he answered angry customers, simply and straightforwardly: our printing house may sometimes make mistakes, but other printers make more. Sometimes, after he had finished his tasks, he collected his daughter Nitzan from the army base and on their way home they listened together to ‘Magic Moments’ on the radio and sang Elvis Presley and Paul Anka. On other occasions he visited his mother in Kfar Saba. When he was 31 years old, he attended a meeting for singles in the Argaman Hotel in Acre, where he met Erga, a member of Kibbutz Dalia. During this first meeting, Erga noticed that Haim was nice and relaxed, and she was impressed by the way he talked, by his pleasant attitude and his tenderness. She still remembers how he laughed and told stories, and how she noticed that people liked to be in his company. Their relationship started with talks on the telephone, and later on was deepened by meetings in person – when Haim, being the driver of the Kibbutz Movement, stopped by to visit her in Kibbutz Dalia, or she traveled by bus to visit him in Be’eri. When Haim asked for her hand, Erga accepted. After their honeymoon trip across the United States the young couple settled in Dalia in order to be close to Erga’s family, and there their first daughter Adi was born. For a while, the family moved back and forth between the two kibbutzim, but in the end they settled in Be’eri, where Nitzan and Dan were born. Haim, who longed for his comrades, for the way of life and most of all for the feeling of home in Be’eri, was happy that his children would grow up in this home, which he had earned through work and love. Although he had left his parental home at an early age, Haim had learned to cook the dishes of his mother and he prepared for Erga and the children salads of chopped vegetables, Persian rice and gondi. (As far as cleaning and tidying up after cooking he was far less proficient.) On Saturday evenings, when the dining room was closed, the family used to have dinner together around a table full of dishes that Haim had prepared. On other evenings Haim sat around the table with his friends Itzik, Udi, Meni, Jako and Calderon, reminiscing, telling each other stories that they had heard and told already dozens of times, and laughing over and over again. Over the years, the group of friends expanded, including the families that each of their children had started, and they spent their vacations together, in tents on the beach. Haim liked to watch the news while munching sunflower seeds, black ones, white ones, and actually anything one could munch. He loved crosswords, chess and Trivial Pursuit. One could rely on Haim. He always took care of kibbutz members who were having trouble and supported people who needed his help. He paid special attention to elderly people, whom he visited often. He listened to their stories and shared with them what was going on. The members describe him as a tender person in a big body, who lent an ear to others and inspired his surroundings with patience and gentle manners. Haim was a warm and embracing father, tender and generous, who supported and cared and made sure their children would lack nothing. In the mornings he always woke them up in peace and quiet, which also meant a little wink towards Erga, who was always in a hurry and was keen not to be late. So, he always went from Adi to Nitzan and from Nitzan to Dan, and woke them up by rubbing their feet, transferring through his hands his gentleness and calm. Haim waited impatiently to become a grandfather and managed to enjoy it, but only for a short time, mainly with his firstborn grandchild Yonatan, followed by Yuval, Daniel and Libi. In the past few years Haim suffered from dementia. Erga cared for him with love and dedication, together with the caregivers Sigi, Sugi and Fernando. Erga didn’t try to hide the malady and insisted on holding on to life as much as possible. Even when Haim could barely speak anymore, his eyes showed that he understood, was alert and remembered. Haim was murdered in the morning of October 7, in the kibbutz where he had found his home. In the same terrible morning his best friends Meni and Itzik were murdered as well. Sugi, who had cared for Haim the past few months, is still missing. Haim left behind his wife Erga; his children Adi, Nitzan and Dan; and his grandchildren Yonatan, Yuval, Daniel and Libi. He was 72 years old at his death. May his memory be blessed Back 29.11.1950 - 07.10.2023 72 years old

Noy Shosh Life Story Noy Shosh was born on December 12, 1986 to Miriam and Gabriel Shosh, joining brothers Ohr and Raz. The family lived in Katzrin, and enjoyed traveling in the Golan Heights and vacationing in Eilat and Sinai. Noy was an ardent nature lover. When he finished 8th grade, the family moved to Ness Ziona, where he studied for one year at Ben-Gurion School, followed by five years at the IDF Ordnance Corps Technological School. Noy earned his degree in Mechanical Engineering, specializing in Vehicle Engineering, while simultaneously working in a garage to both gain experience and knowledge and contribute to his family's income. Noy served in the Ordnance Corps Unit and later became an officer, advancing to the rank of Captain. Noy was passionate about his military service and served for many years in the IDF reserves. He met his future wife, Mahol, in 2008 during his military service. The two were a couple for six years until Mahol completed her studies and they decided to marry. Their wedding was held on Kibbutz Bror Hayil. Noy and Mahol chose to set down roots in Kibbutz Be'eri, where he quickly acclimated and found his place at work and in the kibbutz society. In the garage, Noy both worked and managed several positions, the last as garage manager. Noy had golden hands and a big heart, lending a quick, generous hand to all, with a smile. In 2018, their eldest daughter Noga was born, followed by Netzer, who celebrated his fourth birthday at a hotel on the Dead Sea. The third child is one-and-a-half-year-old Lavie. The family’s favorite pastime was taking trips in the jeep Noy had bought. He was a member of the Prado Driving Club where he took part in many excursions. Noy joined the Be'eri Pub staff and happily took his turn for shifts and events held at the pub. At the start of their journey, Mahol and Noy would often frequent restaurants and movies. As parents, they fully devoted themselves to raising their children. Noy maintained a strong relationship with his longtime circle of friends throughout the years. On the morning of Saturday, October 7, 2023, the family members were awakened by the clamor of shelling and shooting. At those very moments, Noy received an emergency order to report to his IDF unit. As the “Red Alert” sirens sounded, the entire family barricaded themselves in the bomb shelter. Terrorists infiltrated the house and tried to break into the shelter. With one hand, Noy held the door handle shut, as he gripped his loaded gun with the other hand. The terrorists’ gunfire penetrated the door, injuring Noy in his arm and leg. As Noy bled profusely, Mahol summoned the resourcefulness and presence of mind to tear a sheet and tie it as an artery-block to bandage his arm. At the same time, she tried to telephone for help. As Noy’s strength ebbed and he collapsed, Mahol grabbed his gun. When the sight of a gun barrel appeared in the door’s peephole, Mahol took the gun and shot towards it. There was silence from behind the door. The terrorists then set the house on fire, filling the bomb shelter with thick smoke. Mahol and the children parted from Noy with words of love. She then opened the window of the shelter to allow them to breathe fresh air. At last, soldiers arrived to evacuate Mahol and the children to a neighboring apartment. At the same time, Noy’s two brothers began searching for him in hospitals. When they could not find him, his oldest brother went to Be'eri. After deliberation and discussion with IDF personnel, Noy’s body was removed from the bomb shelter. Mahol and the children were evacuated from Be'eri. In Mahol’s words: “We had a long, happy relationship. We were a team connected to one another.” May his memory be blessed. Back 12.12.1986 - 07.10.2023 37 years old

Sami Keidar Life Story Sami was born in Tel Aviv in 1953, the eldest child of Rachel-Mina and Viktor Kardi – immigrants from Egypt who met in Israel. His sister, Suzi, was born when he was three and his younger brother, Avi, was born when he was seven – three siblings who enjoyed a warm and loving relationship. Their father, Viktor, worked as an orderly at Ichilov Hospital and Rachel-Mina worked in a textile factory. Sami went to the Magen elementary school in Maoz Aviv. He was a quiet, introverted child, an average student who did not particularly excel in academics, but he did stand out in Hatzofim, the Scouts. He was devoted to the group's activities and missed none. Even in high school, studying metalworking at the Shevach vocational high school, Sami would listen to the Friday night kiddush at home then head out to join his friends from Hatzofim - much to his father's chagrin. His second love was music. Sami particularly enjoyed the songs of The Beatles and played them on a guitar that he received as a present from his parents. He learned to play on his own because his parents didn't have the money to pay for lessons. He eventually switched to electric guitar and was a member of a band in Hatzofim. On graduation from high school, he continued into army service as a 'garin' in Nachal together with his friends from Hatzofim. When Sami was 20, his father passed away from a heart attack. Rachel-Mina started work at Bank Leumi and raised the children alone, serving as a model of emotional fortitude and spiritual strength. Her daughter, Suzi, remembers her as an 'iron lady' – "a redhead in looks and in spirit" – who let nothing stand in her way. Iron – as both a principle and a material – would play an important role throughout Sami's life. Sami and his Scouts group were sent to the El-Rom settlement, where he met Ofra and fell in love at first sight. He courted her for a full year until she accepted him, and the two were married in 1977. After the wedding, they moved to Tel Aviv and Sami began studying mechanical engineering at the Technion, commuting from Tel Aviv. Ofra, however, who grew up in Be'eri, wanted to return home. After less than a year in the big city, the couple moved to the kibbutz. Shortly after, their first child, Elad, was born. Oran and Yael were born several years later, a year between them – Oran in 1981 and Yael in 1982. Their three children live on the kibbutz to this day. They recall a warm and sensitive father, who hugged and kissed and listened – and always found solutions. He was, with all his heart and soul, a family man. The years when his children slept with the other kibbutz children were a misery to him. He wanted his children beside him. Sami began his professional career in the agricultural mechanization department. He repaired machines and constructed agricultural tools while completing his mechanical engineering degree at Ruppin College. Thanks to his training in metalwork and his hands of gold, he established the kibbutz vehicle body shop. Later, he would build the horse stables with his own hands, and - when the kibbutz decided to raise ostriches in the 1990s – Sami was the one who designed and built the fence, the cages, and the enclosures. It seemed like Sami was always building something, whether it was metal trailers for friends' bicycles, pergolas, or a three-person swing – which included a headrest, footrest, and folding trays for coffee. His hands also produced wooden toys for the kibbutz children. Oran and Elad remember how he would soak boards in the bathtub, to get them wet so they would become pliable. His sons also remember traveling with him once to Tel Aviv to buy materials with which he built a wonderful complete miniature city, with bridges and tunnels, for their electric trains. Sami built Chanuka menorahs using an innovative combination of metal and wood. He won first place in the annual kibbutz Chanuka menorah contest three times in a row. The fourth year, he was politely requested not to participate – because he always won! The large menorah which was used for the communal lighting was also his work. He had an innate talent and a creative mind. Every idea that Ofra would suggest would soon become a sketch on paper and a reality in wood and metal. When his daughter Yael broke her leg and struggled to get up the 15 steps to her home, Sami built a metal chairlift that rode on the railing, to make it easier for her. Needless to say, he did all the repairs at home. At work, Sami was a perfectionist. His exactitude led to a slower work pace that sometimes annoyed the others. When someone would complain, Sami calmly replied that he worked slowly – but precisely – so that no one would need to return for repairs. Many kibbutz members learned the secrets of metalwork from Sami – along with his dedication to precision. His children recall that he was not actually particularly eager to teach his own sons. They did, however, absorb the following iron rule: don't cut corners and do the job right. The introverted boy grew to be an introverted man. Sami was not a person who sought recognition or honors. He was also not a big conversationalist – but his work could be found throughout Be'eri. Quietly, humbly, forever giving, without drawing attention to himself. His devotion to his family was as steady as the buildings he built. His sister recounts how when their mother was ill, Sami traveled from Be'eri to Tel Aviv whenever she needed him, day or night, no matter when. Fifteen years ago, Sami became ill and his condition deteriorated to the point where he needed a home care aide. His eldest granddaughter, 17-year-old Argaman, had the privilege of knowing him as a busy man. Five further grandchildren knew a slightly different grandfather. Last Rosh Hashana, the whole family got together: children, grandchildren, sister Suzi from Tel Aviv and brother Avi from Portugal. None of them could have guessed that this would be the last time. Sami was murdered during the Hamas attack but left behind him an extraordinary legacy, both spiritual and material. The woodwork obviously did not survive the fire, but his metalwork can be found spread throughout Be'eri. On the outskirts of the kibbutz stand the ostrich farm and the horse stables that he built with his skillful hands, slowly but sturdily. His spiritual legacy remains as no fire can destroy it. Even now, at his gravesite, it is clear and rock steady: love for his family, unconditional giving, and the simple command - be a mensch. That was Sami Keidar. May his memory be blessed. Back 27.01.1953 - 07.10.2023 70 years old

Tchelet Za’arur-Fishbain Life Story Tchelet was born in Ashdod seven years after Li’el. Her mother Gladys was born and raised in Be’eri, and when Tchelet was three years old, the family returned to Be’eri. In February, about a month after they had arrived, Gladys and Tchelet, when leaving the building of the children’s home Ofarim, were hit by shrapnel from a Qassam rocket. Since the attack, Tchelet was left with shrapnel in her leg. In August 2008, the family moved to Kibbutz Urim. Together with the children of the kibbutz she went to the first grade of Nitzanei Eshkol elementary school, and after finishing that school she went to Nofei Habsor school. In this way she acquired more and more friends. Tchelet was a precocious girl, opinionated and assertive, always seeking justice - a girl with her feet on the ground. Once she had made a decision, it was impossible to change her mind. By the time she was in her early teens, she was “the other half” – a listening ear, offering sound advice, tolerant, a good and dear friend. The tenth grade was the Covid year. It was a hard year for her, being disconnected from her best friends outside of Urim. For that reason, when she started in the eleventh grade she asked to be placed in a special class, with Batya Marzayev, a teacher who was an important person for her, both at school and in her personal life. She passed her final exams with high marks, in the arts curriculum. For Tchelet, social life was important and meaningful, like it is for most girls or boys of her age. Her mother invested much time in driving her, to ensure that Tchelet wouldn’t miss any get-togethers. Like all the children of Urim, she was a member of the socialist youth movement Hanoar Haoved Vehalomed . She participated in activities and summer camps. In the ninth grade she became a youth leader and in the eleventh grade she became part of the Sartan (Crab) unit of the youth movement, and she went rafting with them. They became a wonderful group of friends who kept in touch with her even after she had finished high school. On her eighteenth birthday she flew with her girlfriends to Paphos (Cyprus), and even had the chance to fulfill her dream to travel to the Sinai. Tchelet lived her life to the fullest. She loved to go to parties, go out into nature, have drinks with her girlfriends on Giv’at Hakalaniyot, the Hill of Anemones. Together they went to see the sunset, to lie on the roof of the dining room and watch the stars, went for night walks around the kibbutz, and have deep, intimate conversations. People who were younger than she – and older people as well – always found an attentive ear and good advice. From the moment she started to drive a car she often went to eat sushi in the evening, or to the Zikim Beach she loved so much. Tchelet had a strong sense of responsibility and work ethic, which was evident wherever she worked: in the children’s home, in the cowshed or in the ice cream parlor where she had worked in Urim for one year and a half. Tchelet applied for a year of agricultural service on a kibbutz in the Arava. Because she wasn’t accepted, she decided to stay close to her grandmother in Be’eri. So she arrived there in July to work as a temporary worker in the babies’ home with Dana Bachar z.l. It took her some time to get used to life away from home, but gradually she made new friends. Shortly after her, Dor Rider came to the kibbutz. They immediately felt drawn to each other. They were like one soul; their personalities were alike, and so were their ethics. About a week before the Shabbat, they went to a party in the Be’eri woods. They spent Succoth with Dor’s parents, and they had planned to travel to relatives on kibbutz Bror Hayil on Saturday, October 7. On the preceding evening, the birthday of the kibbutz was celebrated in the community center. Tchelet and Dor managed to kiss and embrace the family, and promised they would meet the next day. A kiss for grandma and for mother Gladys, a last kiss. Saturday morning the kibbutz woke up to the sounds of explosions from the terrible attack and the infiltration of the terrorists. Between 6:30 and 11:23 Tchelet spent long hours of correspondence with her mother, with Li’el, and with friends. She managed to tell that Dor was protecting her. And then the connection was cut off. For ten days her fate was unknown. Her telephone was located in Gaza, and there was hope that she was taken hostage. And then came the knock on the door, and the terrible news that Tchelet was no longer alive. Tchelet was a wonderful, high-spirited sister, granddaughter and friend. She spread light and love around her. We will remember her with her big smile, and with her outer and inner beauty. We miss you dearly, and so do lots of your childhood friends on Urim and Be’eri, the family, and all the people whose lives you have touched. Tchelet’s greatest loves were the kibbutz, nature and the sea. Therefore, mother Gladys decided to lay her to eternal rest on Kibbutz Ga’ash, close to the sea. May her memory be a blessing. Back 30.06.2005 - 07.10.2023 18 years old

Yehudit Weiss Life Story Yehudit was born in the HaTivkvah neighborhood of Tel Aviv to Shoshana and Ya’akov Kaminer. She was the eldest of five children. Her mother was a homemaker, while her father was an ironworker, who was often sent to work away from home for long periods. From an early age, Yehudit took on some parental duties, taking care of her younger brothers and sisters. However, even then she had clear priorities: when she went to school with money for a sandwich, she would skip her lunch, and go to the beach. When she grew up, she wanted to join a Nahal unit, but was concerned about leaving her siblings. Her aunt Sarah encouraged her to join the Nahal unit, as otherwise “there will be nothing left of you”. Yehudit recounted that this was the moment that she chose life. She met Shmulik in the Nahal unit. They underwent their training together on Kibbutz Gilgal and became a couple during a trip to the Sinai desert. They got married on Gilgal, which was where Hagar, their eldest daughter, was born. They moved from Gilgal to Kibbutz Erez, where their son Asaf was born. The family was joined there by Avishai, Yehudit’s younger brother. They arrived in Be’eri in 1991, with Yehudit being hired as a kindergarten teacher. After two years they became kibbutz members. Omer, Daniel and Ohad were born in Be’eri. Shmulik began a long career working in the garage, and Yehudit continued working in the kindergarten for a while. However, Yehudit continued developing over the years: she was put in charge of the communal dining room, went on to earn a degree in public administration, and then got a Mster’s in Business Management and Economics at Ben Gurion University. She took on the responsibility of coordinating nursing and care for the elderly at Be’eri. She worked for some time at ‘Amal’ before returning to work in Be’eri managing Welfare Services on the kibbutz. After a while she decided to limit the emotional involvement in her work with her kibbutz community, by moving her job over to managing Welfare Services on Kibbutz Revivim, until she retired. Retirement opened up new opportunities for Yehudit. She celebrated. She kept a tight schedule. In order to manage it, she color-coded her Google diary to include all of her activities: there was a set day for each of her children and babysitting the grandchildren. She also had many hobbies and pleasurable engagements. Every Tuesday she went to the movies in Tel Aviv or spent time in Ashkelon with two girlfriends. But family always came first: Yehudit answered every call from home. On that Black Saturday, Omer and his wife Zemer had called Yehudit at 3am, to ask her advice about their son who had a high fever, and before they managed to consult with the doctor on call, Yehudit had set out over to their home. Yehudit and Shmulik had a marriage made in heaven, true love. In the evenings they could be seen nodding off in front of the television, side by side, heads on each other’s shoulders. They loved spending time together: going on trips, watching plays, spending time with friends. Shmulik delighted in pampering her with the jewelry that she loved. They never raised their voices in arguments and conducted their family life with deep mutual respect. They did everything together, sharing their tasks, aside from cooking and baking. Yehudit made sure to make jachnun for each shabbat, and pastries filled with dates, halva or chocolate spread, cakes made to order for each grandchild, and for friends too. It was their tradition for Shmulik always to make a comment, and for Yehudit to laugh and accept it. Yehudit was a very involved mother and grandmother, without interfering. She only gave advice when she was asked for it. As a devoted grandmother, she went on trips with her grandchildren, singing them songs about the good old days in Israel; she bought them treats and took them to classes and plays. Shmulik and Yehudit established a warm home, full of family and friends, and people they took under their wing, like hired workers on the kibbutz, female soldiers, and others. She knew how to give everyone warmth, confidence, optimism, time, and attention. At the same time, she always managed to keep some private space for herself - to express herself, consult with people she was close to, like Rafi and Tali, and also to take walks around the kibbutz, go to the gym and the swimming pool, participate in folk dancing, sing in a choir and to read books. She would read quickly, always two or three books at the same time – on her cellphone, her iPad, and also traditional "real" books. Yehudit discovered she had cancer by chance, a few months before her death, as she had been pushed into going for tests. When she received the results, she said that everything seemed black to her, but then she decided to take the diagnosis lightly. She conveyed to everyone that everything would be fine. She even flew off for a trip before her surgery. Her children say, “She loved life, took pleasure in enjoying her life, and made sure that everyone around her enjoyed their lives too.” Even on Black Saturday, she made sure not to make anyone worry, and sent calm, reassuring messages. She was 65 years old when she died. We still do not know exactly when she was murdered, how her life ended, what she knew or didn’t know about Shmulik and about the large family she left behind her. Yehudit was an optimistic woman who loved life, loved being active, enjoyed the large and small pleasures of life, travel, family and friends. She was a mother who enveloped everyone in her “tenderness and love”, endlessly devoted to her children and grandchildren, a tower of strength, inspirational in her choices for a good life; for her humanity, for her belief in goodness and her ability to grow from life’s hardships. Her children, her daughters in law, and her grandchildren want to tell you: We are alive; we choose life, like you did. May your memory be a blessing. Back 13.4.1958 - 07.10.2023 65 years old

Yehudit Yitzhaki Life Story Yehudit Yitzhaki was born on September 21, 1947 in a displaced person’s camp in Turin, Italy. Her parents, Yaakov and Tzipora Radzinsky, survived the Holocaust and crossed the Alps from Austria to Italy. Nearly their entire family was murdered in the Treblinka Death Camp. In August 1948, Yaakov, Tzipora and Yehudit boarded the S.S.Kedma to Israel where they settled in the Givat Aliyah section of Jaffa. A year later, Yehudit’s brother Natan was born. In 1950, the family moved to Kibbutz Kinneret. After two years, the family returned to Jaffa. As a child, Yehudit was a diligent student in both her academic and dance studies. At age 18, she frequented Tel Aviv’s pubs and parties of the 1960’s. Since her graduating class was not drafted into the IDF, Yehudit did not serve in the military. She began working in one of Tel Aviv’s most prominent law firms, becoming an exemplary worker even then. Yehudit was young and beautiful. Throughout her life, she remained lovely and attractive. Even the young girls of Kibbutz Be'eri would comment on her beauty. Yehudit met Shimon in 1970 when he taught her how to drive. Their love quickly blossomed. They became close, spent time together for two years, and married. Yehudit and Shimon made their home in Givataim, where their children Tzachi, Gidi and Udi were born. The family arrived in Kibbutz Be'eri in 1976. Despite the communal sleeping arrangements for children, Yehudit remained quite present in her sons’ lives, and was always there for them. She passed down to her three sons her iron will and her mandate to contribute to society. The boys became diligent students and went on to assume significant positions in the Israeli security establishment. Yehudit was a strong woman whose sense of justice was acute and highly-developed – sometimes too highly-developed. She reached exceptional accomplishments in her work. Beginning as a secretary in the Kibbutz Be'eri Printing House, over her 14 years there Yehudit expanded her position, advanced, and gained expertise in many fields, specializing primarily in the import-export realm. Like all caring professionals, Yehudit always told the truth, even when her opinion differed from others. In a different position as a school administrator, she worked in an exceptional manner with the Ministry of Education and obtained numerous rights for teachers. Her totality, dedication and endless hours of work did not go unnoticed by the kibbutz. In the position as Payroll Administrator of the kibbutz, she worked to preserve worker’s rights and achieved notable accomplishments. Yehudit was always the right person in the right place, with the proper abilities, leaving an indelible mark on all that she touched. Contrary to kibbutz tradition, Yehudit did not know how to ride a bicycle. Her vehicle of transportation was a tricycle. This was before the age of mobility scooters. “Yehudit’s tricycle” was mythological among the extended family. Yehudit was the heart of the family, always at the core, always remembering every birthday, always feeding and pampering everyone. She took care of her parents who came to live on the kibbutz, conversing with them in fluent, piquant Yiddish, especially when she didn’t want her children to understand. That worked -- they really didn’t understand. The lights of her life were her grandchildren Maya, Luke, Arbel, Rotem, Eyal, Zohar, Gil and Noam. Yehudit had a special bond with granddaughters Maya and Gil, since she had no daughters, yet she was absolutely the grandmother of all, bounding with energy and activity. She kept in close touch and open communication with her grandsons and granddaughters, including via their own WhatsApp group. Her youthful spirit came to the fore. And just as Yehudit influenced her grandchildren, they influenced her as well. Yehudit was a cigarette smoker for nearly forty years. Yet one day, when her five-year-old grandson Zohar told her, “Grandma, no cigarettes,” she stopped smoking at once. Just like that, in one day. Yehudit loved to read. Her home library was very rich, and she mastered the intricacies of Hebrew. She loved to listen to Barbara Streisand and Yehoram Gaon, and to Dollie Parton and country music as well. On October 7, 2023, when terrorists infiltrated the kibbutz, Yehudit was alone at home. Her children were in touch with her until the last moment. Despite the fear and terror, Yehudit, in true form, succeeded to think clearly. Already in the first message to her children, she asked that they check to make sure the army was on the way. She immediately grasped that there were terrorists in her home. She devoted her last moments to parting from her children and her husband. Yehudit did not survive the attack on her – and on the kibbutz. To no one’s surprise, Yehudit had informed her dear ones in advance of the song she wished to have played at her funeral, “Like a Wildflower,” as sung by Hava Alberstein. She even wrote this on the door, lest anyone forget. And indeed, no one will forget Yehudit Yitzhaki. A wildflower like no other. A woman strong and present. “Those with forgiving hearts, will forgive me of my love," said the song she so loved, “Time will heal the pain, and I must set off on my way.” May her memory be blessed. Back 21.09.1947 - 07.10.2023 76 years old

Yossi Aptalon Life Story Yossi Aptalon began life as Sigmund (Ziggy) in 1946 in Semipalatinsk, Kazakhstan, the third child of parents Kuba and Vella, and brother to Nina and Aliza, his older sisters who loved him very much. The harsh conditions at the end of World War II forced the family to split up: his sisters immigrated to Kibbutz Ein Harod in Israel with the Youth Aliyah Movement. Ziggy remained with his parents in Poland. It was only when he was four years old that his parents managed to reach Eretz Israel and reunite with their daughters. At first, the girls lived on the kibbutz, while Ziggy and his parents lived in a transit camp in Motza in Jerusalem. Later, they moved to their own apartment on Donnolo HaRofe Street in Jaffa. Ziggy changed his name to Yossi, and Aptalon almost became Avtalion (an unsuccessful attempt to change the family name). Yossi spoke of a happy adolescence in Jaffa, and he faithfully maintained contact with some of his childhood friends throughout his life. In the army, Yossi served in the Kirya (Army Headquarters command center) as a wireless operator. There he met Roni, also a wireless operator and the most beautiful and popular soldier on the base. Roni says that the moment she saw Yossi, she knew he was the “one,” but because he was so very shy, she was actually the one who had to start the ball rolling. It was love at first sight, and the couple enjoyed Tel Aviv's nightlife, parties and spending time with their many friends. After his regular service, while Yossi was in permanent service, Roni and Yossi traveled with friends to Eilat – a fateful trip as they were both injured in a car accident that also included the loss of one of their friends. The recovery period was long and painful. Yossi lost a hand and had to learn to function in the world again. Throughout, they stayed together, supporting and helping each other, filled with optimism and devoid of self-pity. Once recovered, they got married and rented an apartment in Bat Yam, not far from the sea. They both began working in the printing and graphics field, eventually opening their own business. Their family expanded, and daughters Netta, Zohar and Adi were born. Roni and Yossi were both industrious and talented, and the business thrived, but they both felt that they were not making enough time for their daughters and family, and started looking for a change. They decided to explore new horizons: to leave the city and move to a kibbutz. In the 1980s, they came to Kibbutz Be’eri, which welcomed professionals in the printing industry. The couple brought with them a very valuable dowry: a Vari-Typer typesetting machine, the likes of which did not exist on the kibbutz. In addition to their technological and professional knowledge, they also brought their unique character to the kibbutz: Roni, fiery and sharp-tongued; Yossi, gentle and compliant. Both had a wonderful sense of humor and a great love of culture: cinema, literature and music. They passed this rich world on to their daughters and Tomer, their son, who had since been added to the family. Roni and Yossi felt that they had successfully combined their professional and ideological worlds with their love of family. Yossi invested many hours in nurturing his children's abilities in sports and music. He loved doing “wake-up duty” and going along on their annual trips. As a very loving and family-oriented man, Yossi made sure to maintain a personal and special connection with all four of his children, who live on the kibbutz, and with all his grandchildren: Shani, Amit, Hadas, Nahar, Gomme, Alin, Nir, Shahar, Maayan, Ella, Yoel, Omri and Gili. In the 1990s, Yossi decided to engage in community activities. He studied social work and got involved in education in the kibbutz. He took advantage of his social acumen to connect with every age group and to impart values to the young and adolescent generations. In the kibbutz, he took on new positions, such as "work coordinator," administrator of the member’s forum, and more. All the teenagers who met Yossi remember him with deep appreciation and affection. His ability to converse with everyone at eye level paved a path to everyone's hearts. Over the past decade, Yossi had become intensely involved in creating the kibbutz archives and documenting the histories of individuals, families and the kibbutz. He also made time to express his rich personal and artistic ideas through painting. Recently, he finished writing a book about his wife Roni, who died two years ago. Upon learning of his murder, his cousin Carmela said, "The world is a sorrier place since he left it... This wise, generous, loving, sensitive, ethical man will be deeply missed by his immediate family, his extended family, his kibbutz friends, his childhood friends, and the entire world. " May his memory be a blessing. Back 21.04.1946 - 07.10.2023 77 years old

Amit Mann Life Story The fifth daughter of David and Rachel Mann was born and raised in the town of Netivot. She was a lively girl, full of life, a beautiful and talented ray of sunshine. Blessed with an amazing voice and acting talent, she had a love for singing since she learned to speak and she sang at every opportunity. At the age of 16, she was the lead actress in a theater production of Anne of Green Gables. She attended Darca High School and graduated as a distinguished student of biology. When she was 11, her beloved father fell ill with cancer and spent three years in home hospice. Watching the doctors and nurses taking care of him, her answer to the question, "What do I want to be when I grow up?" became clear. Her father passed away when she was 14, and the following year, she started volunteering with Magen David Adom (MADA). She took out medical books from the town library, studied on her own, and later attended a medic first-aid course. By the age of 18, she completed an EMT-paramedic course, and her joy seemed to know no bounds when she successfully completed the course. She saw her profession as a mission and dedicated her life to it. She saved and helped countless people, with a special love for women in labor, helping support them to bring new lives into the world. She blended professionalism and sensitivity, humanity, and compassion, creating lasting connections with patients and their families even after treatment ended. Two months before her death, Amit was appointed as the head instructor for the paramedic course in the Negev region, at Ben-Gurion University in Be'er Sheva, making her the youngest head instructor in Israel. She planned to study medicine. About a year and a half ago, Amit began serving in medical reserves on Kibbutz Be’eri. She was on duty on Saturday the 7th of October, 2023, and, at 6:30 am, she woke up to the sound of air- raid sirens and rocket fire. Her partner, Ofir, left for his shift in Netivot and asked her to join him because he thought it was dangerous to stay on the kibbutz. Amit refused and said, "I need to stay here exactly because it's dangerous." The terrorists' infiltration began, and those first-responders who were wounded at the outset were brought to the dental clinic before 8 am. Amit, the on-call doctor Daniel, and nurse Nirit were called to the scene and started treating the wounded. Two other first-responders took cover between two parked cars and defended the clinic from dozens of terrorists who entrenched themselves in the area. Throughout, Amit stayed in touch with her family and MADA, pleading for rescue for the injured and providing consistent, professional updates on the patients’ conditions. At 1:50 pm, she messaged her family that the terrorists had returned to the clinic, and the reserve unit had no more ammunition. She wrote in the family WhatsApp group that they wouldn't survive this time, that she loved the family, and added, "Please be strong if something happens to me." In her final call at 2:13 pm, she told her family that the terrorists had shot her in the legs and murdered all the wounded. She didn't know that one of the patients had survived and would later testify that the terrorists returned and killed Amit in cold blood. The soldiers arrived too late and reported that Amit had applied a tourniquet to herself. Amit loved to watch the sunset. She arranged her schedule every day to make sure she would see the sunset, and wherever she was, she found the best viewpoint. She loved to laugh, listen to heavy-rock music, and travel the world. She was well loved by her friends and always surrounded by them. She loved life and lived it intensely. Above all, Amit loved to help people and save lives. She was twenty-two years old at her time of death. She was buried next to her father in Netivot. May her memory be blessed. Back 19.02.2001 - 07.10.2023 22 years old (Paramedic)

Yarin Marie Peled Life Story Yarin Marie Peled was born on Kibbutz Be'eri to Tal and Nimrod in April 2003. She had two sisters, Eli Shitrit and Lihi Peled. Nimrod, Yarin's father, works in the field of medical management, while her mother, Tal, manages the quality department at Be'eri Printing. Her parents met in 2001, got married, and gave birth to Yarin and Lihi. Yarin had another sister, Eli, from her mom’s previous marriage. Yarin always referred to her mother as "Imihu", and Yarin was affectionately called "Nini" by the family, a nickname that accompanied her until the end of her life. During her army service she used to play voice messages of her dad calling her “Nini” for her friends to hear it. Her mother says, “She had large blue eyes, a calm personality, and a smile that said it all.” A close friendship prevailed among the three sisters and Yarin was considered the family glue. She held a central place, connecting everyone – an angel who knew how to bring all the pieces together. As a child, Yarin stood out with her sharp and unique thinking, as well as her sense of humor. While other girls chose pink shirts, Yarin preferred green and orange. Even as a child, she understood sarcasm, found the hidden humor between the lines, and excelled in sports. She did gymnastics until 8th grade and throughout junior and high school she played volleyball. Yarin and her sister Lihi both played on the school team, and together they led the team to win the national championship. Thanks to volleyball, at 15 she also met her boyfriend Idan Kishinevsky, a relationship that lasted until her death. Her sister Eli recalls that on their first meeting he threw a ball at her. Later on, they discovered their shared passion for caregiving and medicine. When Yarin took tests to volunteer for first aid Magen David Adom “MADA", Idan sent her summaries of the material for her to use. They continued talking and never stopped. Yarin was drawn to the medical field from a young age. When her younger sister Lihi, at the age of seven, had a severe epileptic seizure in her sleep, Yarin was there, called her parents, and developed a strong desire to help and care for others, to know what to do and how to respond in times of distress. At the age of 15, Yarin began volunteering with MADA in Ofakim, which took up most of her free time. She loved providing first aid and dreamed of becoming a paramedic. She was adamant about becoming a paramedic in the military. She further insisted on serving in the Gaza envelope, despite its volatility, specifically in the Intensive Care Unit in the Nahal Oz base. Yarin saw it as a mission to protect her home and also to care for the people of Be'eri. Her dedication was absolute, and she continued volunteering with MADA while serving in the military. When she came home on Thursdays, she would immediately go on duty at MADA. She excelled both in volunteering and in her military service. The divisional chief medical officer asked her to stay on as a career soldier as his assistant. Although she had already started studying for the psychometric exam and intended to study paramedics and nursing at Ben-Gurion University, she accepted the offer. Her sister Eli said, "Your role fulfilled you; they fought for you to stay on, they wanted a bit more from you; they didn't want to let you go." Yarin and Idan, who was born at Mishmar HaNegev, were about to move in together. They were always competing with each other: who knew more, who was a better paramedic and who had more difficult cases. Their relationship, which lasted five years, was mature and close and they found in each other the love of their lives. They had already planned their future together and it was clear that they would start planning for their wedding as soon as she finished her service. Idan said, "We grew up together," describing Yarin as always cheerful, happy, laughing, and ready to help. They were inseparable, and Idan mentioned that “She was always there, no matter what time it was – she would come. She was always ready to lend a listening ear. There was no one who did not like her at the station. She always wanted to do as many shifts as possible even when she didn’t have the time. She was perfect, I have no other word to describe her.” Yarin's best friend from Be'eri was Nevo, but Yarin was always surrounded by friends, each receiving her full attention, ensuring that no one felt left out. Her friends from the military service described her as the social heart of the base – a soldier who loved singing Mizrahi songs loudly in the car, playing backgammon, cooking and teaching others to cook, and making everyone laugh until their stomachs hurt. Her friend Shai says, "I knew that as long as she was with me - nothing was scary." And another friend, Lia Ifergan, adds, "It was impossible not to be her friend; it was simply not possible." On the morning of October 7th, Yarin woke up in the Nahal Oz base to the sound of alarms and explosions. She and her friends ran to the open shelter, and Yarin managed to speak with her mother on the phone. A grenade was thrown towards the shelter, and Yarin, along with her friend Shir Biton, returned to their living quarters and took cover. When they encountered a terrorist, they killed him, but another terrorist surprised them in the room and killed both of them. Yarin will be remembered by her family, friends, and acquaintances as a girl full of laughter and devoted to others; the cheerful worker in the kibbutz grocery store loved and appreciated by all the members of the kibbutz; a committed and respected MADA volunteer; a volleyball player who did not stop until victorious; a daughter, sister, girlfriend, and friend who served as an anchor, providing strength, light, and joy to those around her. We carry her heart. We carry her heart within our hearts forever. May her memory be blessed. Back 08.04.2003 - 07.10.2023 20 years old

Dror Kaplun Life Story Drori, born in Kibbutz Ruhamah, was the son of Sarah and Aharonchik Kaplun, and the younger brother of Yehuda. His father made aliyah from Moldova in 1937, eventually becoming a founding member of Kibbutz Ruhamah. Blessed with remarkable dexterity, he excelled as a blacksmith and metalworker. His passions extended to nurturing a pigeon loft, founding a pig farm during a time when it was permissible, delighting friends with his smoked meats, and pioneering the carp fish farming initiative in the Ruhamah dam. Drori's mother, Sarah Lauper, was a Holocaust survivor, the sole survivor of her family. She endured numerous hardships and passed through several concentration camps before arriving in Israel. It is often said within the Kaplun family that Aharonchik's love for Sarah saved her from the trauma of her experiences. Sarah cherished Aharonchik, who was a staunch believer in the ideals of collectivism, socialism, and communism, and she followed in his footsteps. Throughout her life, Sarah worked as a factory worker on the production line at the Mivreshet factory in Ruhamah, a job she truly did not enjoy. However, she found solace in sailing away through her imagination in exquisite prose and poetry, endlessly reading both in Hebrew and Polish. Drori and Yehuda grew up in the communal children's house of their kibbutz. In the few hours they spent together, they collected stamps, organising them by themes, and played chess—on a board when they had one, and sometimes just from memory. As they matured and each assumed significant management roles in their respective kibbutzim (Drori in Ruhamah and Yehuda in Nir Am), they enjoyed debating and contemplating together the best ways to tackle the managerial challenges that faced them, further deepening their bond. Drori was always a good student, fond of learning but not of taking exams. He possessed a sharp mind and a good memory, excelling in both the sciences and the humanities. Beloved and a leader in the "Sheizaf" peer group where he grew up, Drori was a short and chubby child who, through sheer willpower and discipline, transformed himself into an outstanding athlete, playing for Ruhamah's volleyball team. The 20 centimetres he lacked in height to be a "spiker" did not prevent him from being an exceptional "playmaker," skillfully setting up the ball for the spikers. Drori enlisted in the Paratroopers Brigade, went on to officer training, and became a platoon commander in the Golani Brigade. During his service in the Northern Command, while lying in ambush, he encountered terrorists and neutralised them. For this, he received an unofficial commendation from the then Northern Command chief, Rafael (Raful) Eitan: a Kalashnikov rifle as a gift. Modest as he was, Drori never told his children about this incident. After a year of regular service, Drori returned to Ruhamah, worked in the orchard, and even managed it for several years. Following his undergraduate degree in economics from Ruppin Academic College, he managed the Mivreshet factory during an economic crisis. Drori also led Ruhamah's transition from a traditional kibbutz to a kibbutz of a modern type, contributing to the success of this process while ensuring support for the weaker members of the community. He was a man of action, setting a personal example and acting with integrity. This experience led him to manage communities in other kibbutzim such as Lahav, Magen, Yad Mordechai, and Revadim, and in his last role, he managed the community neighbourhood in Kibbutz Gevim. Drori was known for his clear vision, excellent interpersonal skills, and a deep understanding of how people should and could live in a modern kibbutz, making him a legendary community manager. Everywhere he worked, he was valued and loved, and while communities wanted him to stay, Drori always knew precisely when it was time to move on. However, this did not prevent him from continuing to offer his advice and help voluntarily to those in need. Drori married Rosie, a volunteer on Kibbutz Ruhamah, in 1980. Their wedding was held in her native England. In 1982, their eldest daughter, Maayan, was born, followed by Noam in 1985, and Moran in 1987. The couple divorced in 2003. His children describe him as a present and involved father. "On weekends, we would join him in the orchard for picking, in morning shifts at the factory or in the dining room, and even for gate duty. If there was a weekend without shifts, we always went out with him on nature trips around the kibbutz." Noam, his son, adds: "All the years I played soccer, Dad would drive me to all the games on Saturdays. When I was a soldier, he came to visit every time I was home for the weekend." Despite being a hardworking father, when he came home, he set aside his work and devoted himself to his children. This trait also defined him as a grandfather to his five grandchildren: Yuval, Ofir, Nir, Alon, and Klil. He devoted himself entirely to them, without a phone or WhatsApp - just Grandpa Drori and the grandchildren. It's no wonder they loved visiting their grandfather in Be'eri and looked forward to his visits with excitement. Drori was proud of his children and grandchildren. Like his mother, he was an avid reader, sometimes reading three books at once, sometimes more than once. He passionately recommended books he loved and often bought books as gifts for his friends. He fantasised about retirement, where he could read to his heart's content and delve into topics that interested him. He even volunteered as a librarian at the Be'eri library, forming friendships with fellow enthusiastic readers. It was Ayelet Godard, of blessed memory, who introduced Marcelle to Drori. Their first meeting was at a café at the Yad Mordechai junction, and their love blossomed. The modest Drori, who always made do with little, was opened by Marcelle to worlds he was less familiar with and learned to love: cultural events, trips in Israel and abroad. Marcelle taught him to go out, have fun, and enjoy life. On October 5th, two days before the tragedy, they danced until dawn at the Tamar Festival in the Arava. Drori was a man of peace, from the time of Lebanon when he protested outside Ariel Sharon's house to his last days when he made sure to stand at Kaplan every Saturday. Drori was a man of spirit and action, who knew how to turn his vision into reality. He knew there was a time to enrich his own spirit and that of those around him, and a time to plan and execute moves, to make calculations, and to advance the community in which he lived or worked. A person who was a pleasure to speak with. A knowledgeable, thoughtful philosopher at heart, who always spoke to everyone eye to eye. Like his father, he believed in positive thinking, started the morning with a small prayer of intention for the good, and felt that the world smiled back at him. Only one year of retirement was granted to him. He spent it doing what he loved: reading books, engaging in sports, and walking on a tightrope to maintain his balance. He adhered to a healthy diet following the "Maimonides" method and became a nutritional and healthy lifestyle consultant for his loved ones and acquaintances. He felt at the peak of his life. On Saturday, October 7th, Drori grasped the severity of the situation. He expressed his concern for his brother in Nir Am, writing to him, "Don't try to be a hero." He instructed his sister-in-law, Orna, on how to breathe to calm down and how to securely lock the safe room's door. After 10:30, communication between him and his family stopped. Drori left a vast void, a space that will not be filled. His absence is profoundly felt by his children Maayan and Eyal, Noam and Shira, Moran and Guy; his five grandchildren; his brother Yehuda and sister-in-law Orna; all family members and the many friends from all periods of his life with whom he kept in touch. Drori will also be greatly missed by Marcelle's children and grandchildren, who dearly loved him, and by his friends in Be'eri, where he lived nearly 20 years with his beloved Marcelle. His sixth soon-to-be-born granddaughter will grow up hearing stories about her grandfather, a man of great deeds and spirit, and will grow up in their light. His life was taken at 68. May his memory be a blessing. Back 24.07.1955 - 07.10.2023 68 years old