Dvir’s Legacy: A Story of Love and Divine Timing

This is the moving and deeply meaningful story of Dalia Emanuelof, the mother of Dvir Emanuelof, the first IDF soldier to fall during Operation Cast Lead. Since receiving the devastating news of her son’s death, Dalia’s heart has struggled to find peace. Again and again, she tried to understand how the worst thing she ever feared had come true. How was it possible that Dvir was really gone?

When Dvir’s birthday came around, on the 6th of Av, her grief became even heavier. That night, she lifted her eyes to Heaven and quietly asked for something,  anything that might comfort her. “I turned to Hashem and asked Him, ‘Give me a sign that this is really my life now,’” she recalls. “And with that prayer in my heart, I went to sleep.”

The sign she asked for came sooner than she could have imagined.

Two weeks later, a friend called and invited Dalia to come with her to the Hutzot Hayotzer fair in Jerusalem. Dalia declined, she had already promised her daughter they would go see a concert by Meir Banai. So that evening, they went to the show.

“Right before the performance began, we sat down on the bleachers,” she recalls. “About five minutes before the show, I suddenly felt someone gently tap me on the shoulder. I turned around and saw a blond-haired, blue-eyed little boy.”

“I asked him what his name was, and he said, ‘Eshel.’ I smiled and said, ‘Eshel, do you want to be my friend?’ And he said yes. We chatted for a bit, and then his father, who was watching us from behind, called to him, ‘Eshel, do you want to come sit with me and with Dvir?’”

The moment she heard the name, she froze.

The father was holding a baby in his arms. Dalia leaned in and gently asked how old the baby was. “Six months,” he said. She hesitated but continued, “Was he born before or after Operation Cast Lead?” The man said he was born afterward. She quietly asked one more question. “Why did you name him Dvir?” The man answered simply, “Because that was the name of the first soldier who fell in the operation.”

Dalia was overwhelmed with emotion. With a trembling voice, she whispered, “I’m Dvir’s mother.”

The baby’s mother, Shiri, stared in shock. “No way. What’s your name?” she asked. Dalia told her. Shiri nodded slowly, realizing it was true. Then she added something even more surprising: “We actually wanted to invite you to the brit (the baby’s circumcision ceremony), but we didn’t know if it would happen on time because we were worried about his health.”

Dalia was stunned. “You see,” she told her, “you didn’t need to invite me. I came anyway.”

Then Shiri looked at her and said something that would stay in Dalia’s heart forever. “Dvir is sending you a big hug through us.”

At that moment, Dalia felt a deep sense of peace. It was as if her son Dvir was right there with her and that Hashem had heard her prayer. They exchanged phone numbers, and though the concert was just starting, Dalia and her daughter left. It was too emotional to stay.

The next day, Dalia received a text message from Shiri: “Hashem doesn’t bring people together by chance.” Dalia called her back and said, “We were just there to see Meir Banai.” But Shiri responded, “No. You came to meet us.”

As they got to know each other better, Dalia learned something else incredible. During Shiri’s pregnancy, doctors told her there might be a serious issue with the baby’s development. But the pregnancy was already in a later stage, and there wasn’t much that could be done. That same day, after returning from the hospital, Shiri heard the heartbreaking news on TV about the soldier named Dvir Emanuelof who had fallen in battle.

Silently, she made a promise in her heart. “If this baby is born healthy,” she said to herself, “I will name him Dvir after that soldier.”

And so she did.

Since that powerful encounter, Dalia and the family of baby Dvir have remained close. “We have a warm and ongoing relationship,” Dalia shares. “They come to memorial events, to the Torah scroll dedication in Dvir’s memory. They visited the spring that was named after him. On the last Yom HaZikaron (Israel’s Memorial Day), they shared our Dvir’s story and then told the story of how we met. It felt like something new had been born. There’s a continuation for Dvir.”