"Now I'm Calm. He's in Heaven": An Interview with Elia Ariel, Whose Son Yinon, 4.5, Passed Away from Cancer
Elia Ariel's tumultuous life journey did not prepare him for the toughest battle of all – his son's cancer. In a shiva interview, Elia discusses the immense pain, his faith in Hashem's goodness, his clear advice to parents everywhere, and, of course, his hopes for the future.
- אבנר שאקי
- פורסם כ"א אייר התשע"ח

#VALUE!
The funeral of Yinon Ariel, just 4.5 years old, took place last Friday, mere hours before the onset of Shabbat. The usual rush felt during these hours, more so in the summer hours, did not stop a thousand people from attending the funeral, to perform the true kindness for Yinon, and to give him a final embrace and honor.
Yinon, the third child out of four of Elia (42) and Noa (32), residents of Elad, was diagnosed with cancer in his brain stem about six months ago. There is much to expand upon, but first, it's worth getting to know a bit about his father's story.
Elia Ariel, an architecture technician by profession, was born in Hod HaSharon to a national-religious family of Yemenite descent. "Today, I don't understand how it's possible to raise a child to fear Heaven with a TV in the house," says Ariel, "but yes, that's how I grew up." During his childhood and youth, he observed Torah and mitzvot, but later distanced himself from the righteous path.
Ariel's peak estrangement occurred during his life and work in Tel Aviv as a mega-party producer. "I was always someone with many people around," recounts Ariel. "I didn't plan to become a party organizer, but that's how it turned out. Beyond that, I worked as a model and actor in commercials and series. My parties were very successful, and I really got sucked into it.
"In a short time, the parties I organized became renowned among the Tel Aviv set, and many celebrities would attend them. The theme was 70s disco, and also a lot of reggae. 'Elia's parties' became famous. But many times, I felt like I had everything – yet nothing.
Where did these thoughts lead you?
"I started to roll them around in my head, and continued to feel that everything in my life was empty and meaningless. One day, I walked by an astrology shop in Tel Aviv, went in, read something about the Capricorn sign, my sign, and said, 'Wow, they nailed it.' So I started getting more interested in spirituality. It was towards the end of the millennium, the 2000s, and many people started talking about New Age and stuff like that.
"As soon as I began searching seriously and sincerely, Hashem started sending me messages. Crazy things happened to me. I started to realize that Hashem is everywhere, and you can talk to Him, so I simply asked Him questions and received, by divine providence, incredible answers."
And when did these explorations turn into a serious search?
"The major change happened on Yom Kippur when I was 25. It was the first Yom Kippur that I didn’t travel to my mother’s house in Hod HaSharon. I decided to stay in my apartment in Tel Aviv, near Shenkin. I woke up at seven in the evening, after the fast had begun, and started looking for a synagogue. I walked a lot, and all the streets were empty. And I also couldn’t find any synagogue. Desperate and disappointed, I returned to the apartment, and flopped on the roof. We had sort of a lounging area there.
"I lay on one of the mattresses, and suddenly I started feeling a choking sensation. I didn’t understand what was happening to me. Out of nowhere, I began to cry. An uncontrollable sobbing. And I have no idea where it came from. Because ostensibly everything was fine. After a few minutes, I lay back down on one of the mattresses, and when I woke up in the morning.
"The feeling I had that morning, I haven't experienced since. It's hard for me to explain, but I felt new. Like a newborn baby. I went through a very strong experience. It was so strong that I started to be afraid. I was close to many celebrities at the time, and I knew that almost all of them have a psychiatrist. And that most of them take pills. And I thought maybe I was going crazy too"
Very scary. What did you do with these feelings?
"I decided to go to Abarbanel, for someone to check me. I knew they immediately prescribe medications there that could mess you up, so I wanted to explain to them that everything was fine, and it was just this crying that scared me. I wanted to write them something organized. To have something to say during treatment. I wrote that I have a business, family, friends, and everything is fine.
"Anyway, to write, I started to reconstruct the situation for myself: 'I cried on Tuesday night...in the apartment...' I remember I didn’t even write that it was Yom Kippur. I simply didn’t remember. That's how disconnected I was. I tried to understand what happened specifically on this Tuesday, and then I remembered it was Yom Kippur, and this was the first time in my life that I hadn't been in a synagogue and I just felt and knew that it was my soul bursting out, it protested.
"It protested, so I understood, about the fact that I didn’t give it even the bare minimum. All year, I would do things that weren't right, but at least once a year, I would pray and regret on Yom Kippur, and the sins would be forgiven. And then I didn’t even give it that. And it burst out. Rightfully so.
"Shortly after, I started studying with Rabbi Ashrov and Rabbi Ginzburg from Chabad, and mainly with Rabbi Prosper Asher Malka. He was an acting teacher at Nissan Nativ who returned to faith, and knew how to talk to people who returned to faith. Later, I moved to a yeshiva in Safed, and in many ways, I started my life anew."

The Farewell is Temporary
Throughout our conversation, even when discussing difficult things, I notice a spark of light in Elia's eyes. Hope. Love. A strong desire for action. For life. This spark remains in his eyes even as he talks about Yinon, his beloved son who passed away a few days ago. Only occasionally is it apparent that something in him is broken, but immediately that spark awakens and comes back to life.
"Everything started six months ago," recounts Elia. "My uncle, who was a great righteous man, was the sandek of Yinon. He passed away six months ago. In the week he passed away, Yinon started to get sick.
"Anyway, at the beginning, there were all sorts of strange symptoms, but we never thought it was a disease. Certainly not cancer. At first, he started wetting himself, even though he was already potty trained. Then suddenly, he started talking like a baby. I remember we were really angry at him, told him: 'Why are you talking like a baby? What's wrong with you?' At the next stage, he already started to limp a bit, and sometimes fall.
"Despite all these things, we didn’t link one thing to another. We're not doctors. We simply bought him new shoes, and generally thought maybe he wanted a little more attention. Shortly after, his kindergarten teacher asked us if we noticed that something was wrong with Yinon. When this happened, a red light went on for us. We realized that if he was falling in kindergarten too, it probably wasn't just an attempt to get attention."
How do you feel now about how you managed things in that period?
“After we understood what it was, I truly beat myself up. I couldn't stop blaming myself. And from this place, I am calling out to parents, truly pleading with them to pay attention to things happening with their children.
"Once we understood it was happening in kindergarten too, we immediately took him to the hospital, and they referred us to the emergency room. As soon as I arrived, I saw they were doing strange tests on him. Not the tests I expected them to do. In general, I simply didn’t understand what was happening. In a short time, they did a CT head scan, and found a mass. They quickly took him in for an MRI scan, and there they understood it was a tumor in the brain stem.
"The doctors wanted to do a biopsy to know if it was a malignant tumor, and the tumor indeed was found to be malignant. They recommended us to perform radiation, to extend his life a little, but they were candid with us and said they didn’t think he would survive it."
How did you feel when they told you that your son would likely pass away soon?<\/strong><\/p> "For the first three days, it was very hard for us. We endured three terrible days. It takes time to get everything out that you know deep inside. But really very soon the feeling turned into great joy. Because when they tell you there’s nothing that can help anymore and your son will die soon, you know there’s only one you can talk to.<\/p> "If doctors tell a person there’s a chance, and we’ll try various methods, and different doctors might help, then you go through confusion about what to do and how to treat. And afterwards, you can regret – why did I do this and not that, etc. But instead of all that, I knew there was one healer. Hashem. And I didn’t listen to them. Until the last moment, I believed he would live.<\/p> "And the words penetrated. Because true words are apparent. In the eulogy, I just said thank you very much to Hashem for bringing us this soul. Yinon passed away on the actual date of Independence Day, on Erev Shabbat Kodesh, after midday, Parashat Acharei Mot Kedoshim. This is a huge proof for us that he was simply a holy child in a special way. And we feel this is a compliment from Hashem, that He let us take care of such a pure and special soul." What can you tell us about Yinon's personality? "It’s not without reason that they say Hashem takes the best. Yinon is the calmest child in my house. We never heard complaints about him. Everywhere we went, people wanted to play with him. Moreover, despite his young age, he was very meticulous about many aspects of halacha. For example, until his last day, he was meticulous about washing hands. It would take him 4 minutes to say the blessing, but he would not give it up. "His conduct was holy. And he was never disrespectful. He really sought to do mitzvot. For instance, a few days before Passover, when we were cleaning the house, he lay in the living room and suddenly pointed with all his might at the bookcase. At this stage, he could no longer speak, so we thought he wanted one of the books, and indeed we brought him a book. "He calmed down for a few seconds, but then pointed again at the bookcase. It took us time to understand, but eventually we understood he wanted a wipe. We brought it to him, and he started cleaning the book he had in hand. Then he asked for another book and another book. He so wanted to help clean in honor of Passover. And all this when he was extremely weak, at levels hard to describe." Yinon Ariel: Now, after his passing, how do you feel about the fact that he is no longer with you? "We miss him and will continue to miss him. I am generally very sensitive. I love Yinon very much, and always will. But alongside all this, there is definitely also great joy, and calm. Look, sometimes there are kids who stray from the path, and then you don’t know where they are now, and where they’ll be in the future. But now I’m calm. He’s in heaven. We are the ones who suffer. "Sometimes families go on a trip. There’s a destination and a final date everyone will arrive at, but until you get there, everyone joins the trip at a different time. And that’s what happened and is happening to us. This world is just a corridor. The destination is the next world. The eternal world. So he has already gone on the trip, but eventually, we will all meet there." And through the whole process, what were the biggest challenges? "The hardest moments we had with Yinon were when we were informed that he was terminally ill, and in the last two months when we really saw the child’s suffering. He was not in pain, thank Hashem, but we couldn’t understand him. He really wanted things, but he wasn’t able to speak, and it tore our hearts apart. "Out of the pain, even though we never had a screen at home, we showed him educational Torah films to occupy him. But he didn’t want to watch. He was so holy. In general, all my children are holy. They have never seen screens. However, one of the things that strengthened us was the song 'Ben Adam Aleh Ma'ala Aleh'. Yinon sang it a lot. Throughout the illness, this song accompanied him. Its words are very powerful, and of course connected deeply to Yinon’s very challenging situation." As our conversation comes to an end, more family members and friends shyly enter the Ariel family home, and Elia wishes to say a few concluding words. "In recent years, many rabbis told me to conduct lectures. To go out to wide audiences and tell my life story, and I didn’t do it. In a sense, Yinon’s death pushes me in this direction. Now I’m thinking about it seriously, and even planning to release a single soon. Besides that, my wife and I want to have more children. We need many souls for the Jewish people. As many as possible."