It was a moment I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
Last Simchat Torah – at the one-year anniversary – hundreds of young Nova survivors gathered at a Jerusalem hotel to celebrate the Yom Tov alongside bereaved families and families of hostages. Everything in their world had changed since the previous Simchat Torah, October 7, 2023. They talked, hugged, danced with the sifrei Torah. But one guest, a young man, sat off to the side, withdrawn and heavy-hearted.
Eliyahu Libman, whose son Elyakim was murdered at Nova after saving dozens, approached the young man with his wife, Avishag. I stood nearby, listening.
“What’s your name?” Eliyahu asked.
“Nachman Dahan,” came the tearful reply. Then, shaking, Nachman began to speak – about the friends murdered right beside him, about those kidnapped, about how he escaped, and how hard it’s been since to function, to return to anything like normal.
Eliyahu shared his own pain. “I’m Elyakim’s father,” he said. “He was a security guard at the Nova festival. He saved lives and was killed doing so. And you, Nachman, you survived. Tell me, why did you survive?”
Nachman had no answer.
Eliyahu continued: “Today is Elyakim’s first yahrzeit. But it’s also the anniversary of your salvation. You were granted life. I ask that you be happy today, also in memory of my Elyakim.
“And I want to ask something else. You didn’t answer me, and that’s okay. Take your time. But ask yourself: Why did I stay alive? How do I give meaning to this life I’ve been given again? What do I do with the gift I received on this day?”
I often wondered what became of Nachman.
Recently, I found out: He’s begun working, studying Torah, slowly rebuilding. And this week, in the Nova survivors’ WhatsApp group, a photo appeared – Nachman and his bride, Daniella, under the chuppah. The next day, the group held a festive sheva berachot for the couple. So many blessings. So much joy. So much life. From the Syrian border, where he’s serving in reserves, Eliyahu Libman sent a heartfelt blessing.
Mazal tov, Nachman and Daniella. You’re answering the question more powerfully than words ever could.
Between the Kitchen and the Living Room
It’s remarkable how our Sages draw a parallel between the Beit Hamikdash and our own homes. Since the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash, the Shechinah has found a dwelling place in our shuls – our mikdashei me’at (small sanctuaries) – in yeshivot and Torah centers, and also, within the walls of our homes. Between the kitchen and the living room, holiness resides.
After having marked the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash through fasting and prayer on Tisha B’Av, we enter one of the most challenging times for our “private temples”: the month of August, the height of summer vacation.
Our Sages teach that the home is the place where we are truly built. It is here – in the relationships between children and parents, and between spouses – that our character is forged. Judaism calls this avodat hamidot—the work of refining our character. This doesn’t happen in Instagram stories or through likes from strangers, but in the daily interactions with the people closest to us.
Through every action in the home, even the smallest tasks, we can remember: this is where G-d has placed us, and this is our greatest mission for now.
May we, with G-d’s help, merit to see blessing in the coming month as we continue building our private temples.
Translated by Yehoshua Siskin, Janine Muller Sherr.
