Una

In May 1974, over 100 Israeli high school students went on what was supposed to be a fun field trip in honour of Israel’s 26th birthday, exploring northern Israel and sleeping under the stars. But the three Palestinian terrorists who sneaked in from Lebanon had other plans… This is the story of the Ma’alot massacre. It’s a story of horror and blood. In the early hours of May 13, 1974, three men infiltrated Israel from Lebanon, armed with machine guns, grenades, and explosives. Sources differ on whether they were disguised as IDF soldiers or Israeli police. All three men were members of the Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine. Two of the three were Israeli Arabs from Haifa. And at least one knew the north of Israel well. He had lived for a time in the northern Arab-Israeli village of Taibe and even worked at a restaurant in Tzfat. The three men spent all of the previous day hiding in a cave. They moved only under cover of night, heading towards Ma’alot, a so-called “development town” six miles from the Lebanese border. The terrorists' first victims were not Jews but Arabs. Just before midnight, as May 13 turned into May 14, Israel’s 26th Independence Day, a small truck carrying eight Arabs—a male driver and seven women returning from work—approached the terrorists' position. Among the women were three teenage girls, barely more than children. The terrorists tried to stop the truck, but when the driver kept going, they unleashed a hail of bullets, killing one woman and wounding everyone else on board. At 2:30 am, the three terrorists arrived in Ma’alot, where a lone light glowed in the window of a small apartment building—the home of Yosef and Fortuna Cohen and their three young children. Fortuna was near term with their fourth child. As the terrorists stormed through the building, hunting for victims, Yosef opened the door and was instantly gunned down. In the chaos, Fortuna managed to hide their deaf-mute 16-month-old son, Yitzhak, knowing he couldn’t betray his hiding place with cries. But her four- and five-year-old children weren’t spared. They likely heard the gunfire that killed their father and screamed in terror as they, along with their mother and unborn sibling, were shot. Only five-year-old Biya and baby Yitzhak survived the massacre. The terrorists’ night of terror wasn’t over. They had a third target: a school. Fleeing the Cohen family’s apartment building in the early morning hours, they encountered a local janitor. Disguised as either IDF soldiers or Israeli police and speaking fluent Hebrew, they raised no suspicion when they asked him for directions to the school. Only after he answered did they shoot him, leaving him for dead. At 3:30 am on Israel’s 26th Independence Day, Netiv Meir Elementary School should have been deserted. Instead, it housed 100 to 115 students from a religious school in Tzfat, along with a few teachers, on an overnight field trip. Boys slept on the first floor, girls on the second. Originally, the group had planned to camp under the stars, but with northern Israel on high alert, they were rerouted at the last moment to the school, deemed a safer option. One of the teachers said to the media : “𝐴𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑠. 𝐼 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟. 𝐼𝑡 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑. 𝐼 𝑟𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑, 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒! 𝐽𝑢𝑚𝑝 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤!” The boys on the first floor were lucky. It was easier for them to escape. Many of the teachers, terrified, jumped with them. However, not everyone managed to flee. 85 students, two teachers, and the medic remained in the building with the three terrorists. The terrorists herded everyone into a classroom, which they booby-trapped, surrounding their hostages with explosives. Shula Binyamin-Rubin describes the next 16 hours: “𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚. 𝐸𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑦-𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑘𝑖𝑑𝑠. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑢𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑢𝑠 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡, 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦’𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑎 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑟. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦’𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑡, 𝑠𝑜 𝑤𝑒’𝑑 𝑐𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑.” The terrorists sent out a student with their demands. Israel would release between 20 and 26 terrorists by 6pm, or else they’d blow up the school with everyone in it. Golda Meir was prepared to negotiate : “𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯.” The cabinet deliberated for fourteen tense hours while the students waited anxiously, aware that each moment could be their last. Finally, the Knesset yielded to the demands, even parading 20 blindfolded and bound prisoners to the scene to demonstrate their resolve. As the Knesset negotiated with the three terrorists, the army’s most elite unit was preparing to storm the building. The super elite unit Sayeret Matkal which had been around for less than 20 years, but was already legendary They were confident that they’d be able to storm a school, eliminate three terrorists, and save the hostages. Fifteen minutes before the 6pm deadline, Sayeret Matkal made their way into the school from two separate entrances. A team of snipers watched their backs, ready to take out the terrorists. The first team, which went in through the front doors, & immediately took a volley of gunfire. Rather than engage in a protracted firefight, they threw a phosphorous grenade. Phosphorous grenades create a lot of smoke which blinded the IDF snipers and the second Sayeret Matkal team as they combed the school for the hostages. Blinded by the smoke, they went to the wrong floor. Worst of all, the snipers couldn’t get a clear line on the terrorists. It took thirty seconds, maybe less, for the IDF to realize its mistake. But that thirty seconds was enough time for the terrorists. “You’re going home now,” one of the terrorists said as they opened fire. A hail of bullets. A clutch of grenades. In thirty seconds, 26 people – 22 of them students under the age of 17 – were dead. In Shula Binyamin-Rubin’s words : “𝘈 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥, 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥. 𝘞𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦… 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘪𝘧 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥. 𝘞𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭.” Sayeret Matkal eventually made their way to the right classroom, where they killed the terrorists. The sight that greeted them was like something out of a nightmare. A news broadcast from the next day described the scene: “𝐵𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐿𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠. 𝐶𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑, 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑. 𝐴 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑎 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒.” Then-principal of the school, Shalom Ma’arti, described it like this: “𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑤 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑠’ ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟. 𝑊𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠… 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒.” Equally horrible were the funerals of the next day. 26 caskets, most holding children. It’s been 50 years. The wound hasn’t healed. Not for the families of the dead or the survivors, whose trauma haunts them to this day. Hasibah Shala, 27 Yosef (Jojo) Cohen, 45 Fortuna Cohen, 38 (7 months pregnant) Unborn child of Fortuna Cohen Moshe Eliahu Cohen, 4 Sylvan Zerach, 27 Ilana Turgeman, 15 Zvia Mor-Yoseph, 15 Rachel Aputa, 16 Yocheved Mazoz, 15 Sarah Ben-Shim’on, 15 Yona Sabag, 15 Yafa Cohen, 17 Shoshana Cohen, 17 Michal Sitrok, 16 Malka Amrosy, 15 Aviva Saada, 15 Yocheved Deri (age unknown) Yakov Levi, 17 Yakov Kabla, 17 Rina Cohen, 15 Sarah Madar, 15 Tamar Dahan, 16 Sarah Sofer, 15 Lilly Morad, 16 David Madar, 17 Yehudit Madar, 16 May their memories forever be a blessing. 15-year-old Ilana Turgeman – who was murdered in Ma’alot along with 21 of her classmates. Wrote this letter to her parents shortly before her death. “𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑀𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐷𝑎𝑑, ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜. 𝐼𝑡’𝑠 11:25𝑎𝑚, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑠𝑜 𝐼’𝑚 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼’𝑚 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦, 𝑀𝑜𝑚, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝. 𝑌𝑒𝑠, 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑔𝑜. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜. 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑, 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑅𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 15 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑓, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑓 𝐼’𝑚 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒, 𝐼’𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑙𝑦, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑡ℎ. 𝑌𝑒𝑠, 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑡ℎ, 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑡ℎ, 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑙. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠, 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑡ℎ, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝐿𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛’𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛. 𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛’𝑡 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ – 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒’𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦. 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝐼𝑠𝑟𝑎𝑒𝑙, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠: 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠. 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑛’𝑡. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝐼 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑟, 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑑𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠. 𝑀𝑜𝑚 – 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑒. 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑅𝑖𝑣𝑘𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦, 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒 – 𝐼𝑙𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑟 𝐼𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑎. 𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒, 𝑠𝑜 ℎ𝑒’𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒’𝑠 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑦 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛. 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦’𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝐼’𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑀𝑦 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑦. 𝐼𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼’𝑚 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼’𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦. 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑎 𝑌𝑖𝑠𝑟𝑎𝑒𝑙 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟, 𝐼’𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝. 𝑊𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛’𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑓 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑒, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛. 𝐼𝑡’𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐺𝑜𝑑’𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟, 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. 𝑊𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘. 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒. 𝐼𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟, 𝐼’𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐺𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑏𝑦𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝐼𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑎.