Our people redefine what it means to be a human

Let's talk about the small acts of resistance that can sustain a life in the harshest of circumstances.

This week Avitanan Or, a former hostage and partner of Noa Argamani, spoke in Washington at the Jewish Federations of North America General Assembly about his experience in G*za.

He described digging for weeks through sandbags and a collapsed tunnel, saying, "I made myself work to change my own destiny."

He continued and said, “One day, as I was digging, I hit the root of a tree. I smelled it. It felt like touching life in the place of d*ath. Then, one night, I reached the outside. I saw stars for the first time in years.”

When they discovered him, they beat him for days and tied him to a chair for a week.

He said, "I was sure I will d*e there, but even then, I wrote three things next to my bed: ‘This too shall pass,’ ‘patience,’ and ‘let it be.’ These words kept me human.”

He was held h*stage for 738 days alone. With no light, no food, and chained -- one of the last men to return home alive.

"I did not see sunlight, days passed without anyone speaking to me, I did not hear my language, no one called my name."

It is hard to even imagine how a human being can survive such extreme isolation.

The whole time, never knowing what has happened to your loved ones. Your family. Your people.

Avinatan described the rules he established for himself in order to stay alive:

“To survive, I created a few rules for myself, the first: patience, every day I told myself ‘just one more day,’ ‘don’t think any further ahead.’ Patience was my lifeline,” he said.

“Rule number two: find common ground. I talked to my captors about faith, about the Torah and the Quran, about Joseph and Yusuf, about Abraham and Ibrahim, different names but universal stories.”

“Rule number three: anger destroys. You can’t survive when you’re angry. I allowed myself to feel it sometimes, but I let go.”

“Rule four: keep my brain working. My engineering background saved me, I counted steps, collected data, built a small lamp from broken cables, planned escape routes in my head and told myself ‘you won’t let others decide your fate.'”

Can we truly understand these men and women who have come home?

I have said it before, but I'll repeat myself.

H*mas is the definition of people who lose their humanity. People who choose d*ath, d*struction, and d*vastation.

Our people redefine what it means to be a human.

To choose life in the face of the worst humanity can imagine. Bacharta Bachayim.

These small acts of resistance, of maintaining the self, of not losing focus in the haze of years of darkness...

We cannot begin to understand.

And yet, through our h*stages telling their stories-- we are learning so much about human resilience and what we are truly capable of.

This photo is Avinatan standing alongside Noa, his partner, and former h*stages Evyatar David and Guy Gilboa-Dalal at the General Assembly.

What a miracle to see them all together and hear their stories.

Even if it breaks our hearts.