Rabbi M.L. continues:
We were a small group of friends who became religious. We had a friend who respected tradition and would listen to our ideas, but he remained the way he was. Now he told me what happened to him during the massacre:
My home has two floors. I woke up early in the morning and heard the sirens. Immediately, I went upstairs and brought all the children down. The minute everyone got downstairs, a rocket fell on the upper floor, and I don’t want to think what would have happened had we remained there for a few more seconds.
I understood that a war had begun, and as a member of kitat konenut – the military guard, I was on the alert, and I took my gun. Before going out, I stood near the mezuzah and said Shema Yisrael. That’s what I knew, and I asked Hakadosh Baruch Hu to help me – I knew that only He could help. I was certain He would be with me. I couldn’t find my helmet to protect my head, so I went out without it. I let the other members of the military guard know that I could not leave the area of my home, and I would help to secure the area from my yard. My house is the last one on the kibbutz, right near the gate.
I went out and saw a van belonging to Hamas. Twelve terrorists came out of it and started cutting through the gate. I immediately called my friend to help me stop them. It was terrible. Bombings overhead, fire in the air, and I have to stop twelve human animals whose sole purpose is to kill. I lay spread out on the floor, for fear of the bombings, and immediately got up to fight the terrorists. I knew only one thing: I cannot do anything; only the Creator of the world is all-powerful. “Hakadosh Baruch Hu, You are with me.” That’s what I said all the time as I pulled the trigger again and again. Baruch Hashem, we killed them all.
This friend told me, “I’m no hero. It is not me. It’s Hakadosh Baruch Hu.” Throughout our conversation he kept saying, “Baruch Hashem, Baruch Hashem.” This is his new language. I’ve never heard him speak this way until now. Emunah. That is what saved him.
