On that horrific Saturday of October 7 I was supposed to visit my son Yarden and his family in Kibbutz Nir Oz. At 6:30am I heard the sirens blaring. I called Yarden, who assured me they were all in the shelter. We thought it was just another round of rocket attacks from Gaza. But at 9:20am, I received a text from Yarden with three words that still haunt me: "I love you."
Then, silence.
My young grandchildren, Ariel and Kfir Bibas, along with my son Yarden and daughter-in-law Shiri, have been held captive by Hamas since then. Every day I feel their absence, every day it crushes me, but every day I make the decision to continue to fight to bring them home.
The horror of what unfolded was distributed through images and videos gleefully distributed by Hamas. The entire world has surely seen by now my beautiful daughter-in-law Shiri, clutching the world’s most famous redheaded children, fear etched across their faces as they were dragged into captivity. My son Yarden was also violently kidnapped into Gaza on a motorcycle, shown bloodied and surrounded by terrorists and civilians in images.
In the months since their abduction, we've all been victims of cruel psychological warfare waged by Hamas. They forced my son to appear in a video, telling him his children were dead – to break his spirit. But we can’t help but cling to hope, even as each passing day makes it that much harder.
Ariel, my eldest grandson, should be celebrating his fifth birthday today. Instead, he marks this milestone in the darkness of captivity. And little Kfir, barely 9 months old when he was taken, has now spent more of his young life in Hamas captivity than in the loving arms of his family. They are the last children remaining in Hamas captivity.
We've met everyone we could across the world who might be able to help keep up the pressure. We've spoken, pleaded, shaken hands and pressed for action. And when Prime Minister Netanyahu invited me to join his delegation to speak in front of the joint session of the US Congress last week, I saw an opportunity I couldn't refuse. I wanted to be a living, breathing reminder of this ongoing tragedy.
Every time Netanyahu and people around the world see me, I want them to remember those two small, ginger-haired boys – the last children still in Hamas captivity. I want my family's faces to be seared into his mind as he makes decisions that will determine the fate of my loved ones and the other 116 hostages still held.
My presence serves as a constant reminder that we need a deal urgently. We have no time to waste. Every week, every day, and every minute in captivity is a danger to the lives of my grandchildren, my son, my daughter-in-law, and all the other hostages.
I will never stop hoping that one day I will see my family again, embrace them, kiss them, and witness their innocent smiles once more. But hope alone is not enough. We need action, and we need it now.
