When I Say Shema Yisrael, I Will Think of You

On the 23rd of Iyar, 5734 (1974), a heartbreaking tragedy took place in Israel that would come to be known as the Ma’alot Massacre. A group of terrorists took over the ‘Netiv Meir’ school in Ma’alot, where 105 students and 10 teachers from a religious high school in Safed were staying for a youth activity through Gadna (a national youth corps program in Israel).

The terrorists demanded the release of 20 prisoners held in Israeli jails and threatened to murder the hostages if their demand wasn’t met. The deadline was set for 6:00 PM that evening.

Fifteen minutes before the deadline, a rescue unit from Sayeret Matkal, the elite unit of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF), stormed the building. But due to a series of missteps, the terrorists managed to murder 21 children and 3 adults before they were killed.

Among the victims was Ilana Naaman, who was just 15 years old. In the final hours of her life, Ilana wrote a letter to her parents. She tucked it into her coat pocket, and it was later found by one of the soldiers who handled the victims. Tragically, the letter did not reach her parents until years later. The original copy was lost, but a version of her letter is still read across Israel as a powerful expression of courage, clarity, and emunah (faith in Hashem).

Here is Ilana’s final letter, in her own words:

To my dear father and mother, hello!!
It is now 11:00 in the morning. I don't know how many hours I have left to live, so I am writing to you.

I'm sorry, Mom, that I didn't listen to you and went on this trip. I know you didn’t force me to stay home, but you were worried and preferred I wouldn’t go. Still, I went because I knew this was something I had to do.

I want to thank you for the beautiful upbringing you gave me, and for the wonderful years I’ve had all because of you!

Now I’m 15 and a half, and if it’s Hashem’s will that I leave this world, I will go quietly, with dignity, and with faith. Yes, faith, that’s what you gave me. You always said that without faith, life becomes small and much harder. And now, in these difficult moments, I believe you were right.

Life gives us a lot, but most of it is not in our hands. We don’t get to choose when we’re born or to whom but I was blessed. I was a Jewish girl, in the Land of Israel, with amazing parents, with you.

I didn’t have any “big moments” in life. I was never privileged to anything grand, and probably won’t be. But because of you, I passed the small tests, the quiet, gray, everyday tests that really shape a person.

Mom, don’t cry too much when I’m gone. When Rivka has a baby, name him after me, Ilan or Ilana, and raise him like you raised me. Raise him to be strong and to know his purpose in this world.

I know life has been hard for you, before I was born, and since then too. And I know that losing me will make it even harder. But remember that even the hardest times bring moments of joy and deep meaning.

I’m not crying. My eyes are dry. It doesn’t hurt that I’m going to die. I have no regrets. And when I say “Shema Yisrael” in my final hour, I will think of you.

I had to come on this trip. We can’t stop living because of fear. Danger is all around us anyway, and if there’s a decree from Heaven it will happen. Even in shelters, we’re not fully protected. It’s better to live fully, as a human being, and if we must, to die al Kiddush Hashem, sanctifying Hashem’s Name.

This letter, my final one in this world, please let everyone in the family read it. Send them my love. Wish all our friends and neighbors success and happiness.

This is my last chance. In another hour, I’ll be leaving you.

Goodbye, until we meet again someday.
With so much love,
Your daughter, Ilana