The Stories They Leave Behind
For thousands of years, the story of the Jewish people has been told in chapters. Each generation has carried forward what came before, adding their own page to an unbroken scroll. On Simchat Torah, the happiest day in the Jewish calendar, we celebrate the conclusion of the Torah and immediately begin a new cycle from the beginning.
As we close the final chapter, the story does not only restart with our ancestors, but it does so with us. Today, we continue walking in the footsteps of those who built and defended our land.
The voices you will read below are not questions and answers, but testimonies of remembrance. Family members and friends speak of those dearest to them - their courage, their faith, their humanity.
These stories are not detached memories; they are living extensions of the legacy our people have held onto for centuries. These lives and words remind us that the Jewish story is still being written, one voice at a time.
Ariel Sosnov was more than a soldier. To Atara, he was her other half, her first call in moments of joy and sadness, and the person she imagined a life with. He was warm, charismatic, and filled with a heart that cared deeply for people, “he's the type of person that you meet once, and they just stay in your heart forever,” Atara describes.
From the age of 16, Ariel devoted himself to helping others, volunteering in four youth groups for children with special needs, one of which he and Atara met for the first time, where he dreamed of becoming an educator. Atara said he lived his purpose every day.
She shared that after the October 7th Massacre, Ariel felt an urgent need to serve. Motivated to make a difference, he enlisted a month later, to the 605th Engineering Battalion of the Barak Armored Brigade.
After eight months of training, Ariel went to serve on the front lines. He spent a month in Gaza and was in Lebanon three times. Before he went to commander's course, he was called to Lebanon again for a mission. Atara was scared, but she assured herself “two more weeks in Lebanon and then he's out and he's safe…I don't have to be worried anymore.”
Atara remembers the morning she lost him. “We were on the phone having a totally stupid conversation,” she expressed she started to get a really bad feeling, “then there was a siren in the background, and he said ‘I'm coming back to you in a minute.’”
The line went silent. From that moment, Atara has held onto Ariel’s presence in memory and in spirit.
She describes him as impossible to sum up in words. If someone who never knew him asked what kind of person he was, she would tell the story of a man who noticed those others overlooked. She remembers the time he helped a blind couple find their way home late at night, the way he made everyone in a room feel seen, and the endless kindness he showed to family, friends, and strangers. “He always said we need to make sure that we’re here in our country - proud, happy, loving each other, and holding each other,” Atara recalled.
Even now, she can feel him guiding her. In a letter he left behind, Ariel wrote: “Be who you deserve to be.” Atara says he wanted her to be happy and to continue spreading light. What keeps Atara going in the midst of this loss is the promise she made to Ariel - to carry his light forward. Every act of kindness, every gesture of love, every time she pushes herself to continue.
“I really believe in remembering Ariel and his life, not his death.” Though he may no longer be here in body, she said, his spirit, values, and light continue to live through her, ensuring that his story and the difference he made are never for nothing. “Ariel and the 900 other soldiers who fell during this war are heroes in their death, but all of them were also heroes in their lives.”
Natan Rosenfeld lit up every room he entered and made each person feel like the most special friend he had. “He loved every person he saw. He made them feel special. He was incredibly empathetic,” his family recalls. From a young age, Natan had an extraordinary gift for connection. He sat with people, listened deeply, and was there for them in their darkest hours. His empathy and emotional intelligence drew people close.
To his parents, he was “an amazing, amazing boy, who was independent, but also the friendliest and the most compassionate.” He lived his life to the fullest and was always on the go with friends. “He was a boy who lived all the time, a boy who lived in the fast lane,” they said. Even when told no, Natan found his way to do the things he loved, because he believed in enjoying every moment. His mantra was simple: Live each day as if it were your last.
The last time his parents saw him, he was happy. Just before his final mission, they FaceTimed him from Gaza. He showed them a long table set for Shabbat. “We left him when he was happy,” they said, “and he was always happy. He was very positive in what he was doing.”
That constant positivity defined who Natan was. His friends felt it, his family felt it, and even strangers felt it. He had a way of turning ordinary encounters into moments of joy.
For his family, the hardest part is his absence, but also the way his presence lingers everywhere. “When Natan was alive, it was just Natan,” they shared. “But now he’s in so many people’s minds, so many people’s hearts.” His parents believe that if he could speak to them now, he would say what he always did: It’s going to be okay, be happy, and live life.
And so they carry his legacy forward - not only remembering the life he lived, but building goodness in his name. “We’ve decided that there needs to be good to come out of this tragedy,” his father said.
So many moments such as weddings and school events are now dedicated in his memory, a way of spreading Natan’s light. His family believes it is their responsibility to move from darkness into light, to keep doing good, because that is exactly what Natan would have wanted.
Even in his absence, Natan continues to guide them. A boy who lived fully, loved deeply, and left behind a light that will never fade.
Omer Balva brought warmth and kindness wherever he went. Friends and family remember his ability to connect with everyone. “He was just a person who embodied kindness. He was someone who always wanted to help others, always wanted to be there for another person. He was just a very, very kind person,” shared his friend, Corporal D.
Friends also remember the way he made everyone feel seen. He noticed the small things that others overlooked, like the way someone hugged or the subtle signs of worry on a friend’s face. “He was one of those people that just…understood beyond the surface level of what words could say,” Corporal D. recalls.
Omer grew up in America, surrounded by a loving family and community that helped shape the person he would become. His childhood instilled in him a sense of belonging to two worlds: The one that raised him, and the one he later chose as his own.
At eighteen, he moved to Israel and enlisted in the Golani Brigade, guided by a deep love for the country and a strong sense of duty to protect it. After completing his service, he continued to build his future, and he went on to earn his degree.
When the war began, Omer was visiting family and friends in America. But within days, he flew back to Israel to serve in reserves, returning on October 15, 2023. Soon after rejoining his unit in the north, he learned of the losses they had already endured, including the death of a commander he was very close to. It was a heavy loss, but when a dangerous mission arose just days later, Omer was the first to step forward.
“They needed, I believe, three or four people to do a mission on the border of Lebanon, and he was the first one, obviously, to volunteer. There was an anti-tank missile that saw them. He was killed on the spot.”
The news shattered those who knew him and loved him. “Once I found out at that moment that it was really true, it tore me apart in a way that I’ve never been torn apart before,” expressed Corporal D. “That first day was probably one of the hardest days of my life, if not the hardest.”
But even in loss, Omer’s spirit lives on. His family chose a simple, powerful phrase to carry his legacy: “Be Kind.” More than a slogan, it is the essence of who he was. Friends recall his unmatched maturity: “Omer was always one level above everybody else when it came to maturity.” He had the courage to do what was right, even when others stayed silent.
That legacy is felt deeply by those who served alongside him. Today, Omer’s close friend, Corporal D., who grew up with him in America, serves in the same battalion that Omer was in, and even in the same small team of eleven soldiers as Omer’s younger brother. The bond they share is more than chance. For Corporal D., it feels as though Omer himself made it happen: “He would want me to protect his younger brother and have his back in the same way that he would have my back,” he shared.
Today, his family and friends carry him forward not only in memory but also in action. His kindness continues to inspire, and his sacrifice still guides those who knew him. Omer’s story is not only about the way he left this world, but about the way he lived in it: Simply kind.
Corporal H., a close friend of Osher Barzilay, remembers her as someone who was everybody’s friend. You couldn’t pass Osher in the hallway without her greeting you with a warm smile and a “How are you?” She truly wanted to hear the answer. She had a way of making people feel seen and cared for.
On October 7, when the attack on Nahal Oz began, Osher was serving in the operations room. Alongside her fellow soldiers, she worked to connect forces on the ground with the air force. She fought until her very last moment, making sure that those around her were safe.
Even in the chaos, she let others use her phone to send last messages and calls to their loved ones, all while sending her own texts to her family and boyfriend to tell them she loved them. In the face of terror, she remained selfless.
“If I would have seen her one more time, I would tell her thank you,” Corporal H. expressed. “She always made sure to spread light and happiness and to be a good friend and a good person to everybody no matter what.”
One of the clearest memories, for Corporal H., that shows Osher’s character comes from their senior year of high school, when Osher and Corporal H. were put in charge of the entire school production. Together, two of them carried the responsibility for 180 students, managing everything from the costumes to the event itself.
At first, Corporal H. admitted she felt overwhelmed and convinced the task would be impossible. But Osher stayed optimistic the entire time. “The first time we sat together, Osher was like, we got this.” From that moment on, Osher’s encouragement carried them through every challenge. Her belief in others gave strength then, and it continues to give strength now.
Osher’s courage on her final day, the way she never gave up even in the scariest of moments, is what continues to inspire Corporal H. to keep moving forward.
To her, Osher will always be a hero.