The murders began on one of the happiest of the Jewish holidays. A holiday of celebration, dancing, sweets, opening your home and community to all those around you. Simcha. Joy.
One day my neighbor was reading the Torah.
Then silence.
How many have died? Hostages? Murders? Rape? Babies? Grandmothers? At a peaceful concert? Peaceful neighbors? Entire families? Entire neighborhoods? Mothers? Fathers? Brothers? Sisters? Cousins? Terrorists? Where?
How is my family? How is your family? Do you know what happened?
Quiet. Panic. Holding it together. For the children. Yes we can have another sweet. Yes we can keep dancing with the Torah. Yes, everything is OK. Yes, it’s a happy day. Yes.
Quiet shock. Quiet sadness. Let’s be quiet for the children. Quiet.
It’s the last day of the holiday, the happiest holiday. But today my neighbor is on a flight back to protect his homeland, our homeland.
One thousand murdered in cold blood, tortured, mutilated. A massacre. A pogrom.
In Israel, speedy funerals to bury and show respect for the dead. Not enough time even for tears. Calls to bomb shelters. Flags wrapped around a thousand bodies. A country wrapped around with death.
Sirens. Screaming. Shouting. Taunting. Wailing. Enlisting. Calling to action. Calling to serve. Volunteering to serve.
Time to hide. Time to resume daily life.
Silence.
Hundreds of hostages.
A call for volunteers to dig 1,000 graves. 1,000 bodies. 7,000 days of Shiva. 7,000 days of tears.
For some no one left to grieve.
A nation left to grieve.
A people left to grieve.
And our brothers and sisters and friends and neighbors and kindhearted people grieve.
Evil. It’s hard to understand. Pure evil. Parades and demonstrations celebrating Jewish and Israeli death. Babies were killed but. women were raped but. Jews were murdered but. There’s no explanation. There’s no excuse. There’s no explaining.
Fourteen hundred now murdered and 200 taken hostage.
One nation.
Everyone knows someone.
One family.
One.
One thousand. and one hundred more. and two hundred more. and three hundred more. and four hundred more. Not one. Not two. Not three. Gone.
A call to action.
Collecting. Gathering. Sending. Writing. Chartering. Shipping. Just need to be doing. doing. something-ing!
Innocent lives taken. Orphans. Entire families murdered. Hundreds taken hostage. Babies. Bubbies. So many people. Where’s the humanity? But the silence. International aid organizations silent. The silence. The public not speaking up. Silence! Silence!
Babies murdered, women raped, tortured and bleeding paraded around to cheers. Families murdered. Murder. Capture. Torture. No one is being “freed” from this.
Where’s the outcry?
We cry.
We cry.
We cry.
But we can’t be silent anymore. Speak up against hate. Speak up against this massacre. Speak up against protests celebrating the death of Jews. Speak up for Israel to protect itself and others. Speak up against evil. Speak up for Humanity. Speak up. Speak. Speak. SPEAK.
Jocy London graduated from Columbia University with a bachelor’s in economics and art history. After working in finance and communications, she dedicated her time to nonprofits, including in development at the Ramaz School and recently serving as the director of development at the Columbia/Barnard Hillel. She actively volunteers with philanthropies, including serving on the Parents Council Presidium at Manhattan Day School in New York.
