10-month-old Techiya Shalhevet Pas HY”D was murdered while being held in her mother’s arms outside their Hebron home in 2001, another victim of the Oslo War. Her parents would have marked her bas mitzvah on Yom Yerushalayim this year, but instead, she was counted Wednesday, Memorial Day among the kedoshim in Eretz Yisrael.

Following is a letter written by her parents this Memorial Day, before her bas mitzvah.

We shall always remember you as the sweet baby with that smile on her face. A despicable murder ended your short life and we were left with the few memories and with a gaping wound in our heart that shall never heal.

Shalhevet, it was no coincidence that you were born on such a symbolic and charged day like Jerusalem Day; a day that for us symbolizes the revival of the Jewish People, struggling for full independence in its own country. There is a reason you were named Shalhevet Techiya.

To our regret, the way you left us, like a mighty flame rising up to the Heavens, proved that we have not yet reached peace and calm. Enemies are still rising up in order to expel us from our fine, holy land. Even though you did not have a chance to do almost anything in your short life, your name had been etched in red letters in the annals of the Jewish People, which has known much suffering and bereavement.

Shalhevet, after you were murdered, all of us decided – both family and friends – not to break. We decided that cursed murderers will not be able to uproot us from Hebron’s soil. We managed to deepen our hold on the soil and make the wilderness of the Judean Mountains bloom, despite the objections and harassment of those whose hands are filled with murder and blood.

Shalhevet, we granted the Creator five more children, born after you left us. They will not get the chance to know you, yet your name and memory envelop us all, and we know that we care for all of us, where you are. You care for us, for the siblings you never knew, and for the all residents of this fine land, which we were honored to live in.

With love, longing and tears,

Mom and Dad

(YWN – Israel Desk, Jerusalem)