Walking through the car graveyard, where hundreds of vehicles lay in ruins, a stark reminder of the terror inflicted by Hamas, one cannot help but reflect on the profound carnage and destruction of October 7. Each destroyed car, a symbol of halted journeys and shattered lives, serves as a poignant testament to the abrupt cessation of movement—a core aspect of human existence, where people are referred to as הולכים (“those who move”) in contrast to angels, who are עומדים (,”those who stand”).
In Torah thought, this distinction between הולכים and עומדים is significant. It underscores the dynamic nature of human life, our inherent drive for progress, and our perpetual journey towards growth and improvement. The concept of movement is deeply ingrained in our essence, reflecting not only physical displacement but also spiritual and emotional growth. The tragedy of October 7, with its stark interruption of this movement, brings into sharp focus the devastating impact of Hamas’ invasion, not only on the physical structures of our world but, more profoundly, on the human spirit. The cars in this graveyard, each with its own story of interrupted journeys and unfulfilled potentials, are a somber reminder of the lives that were abruptly destroyed.
As we move beyond this place, the imperative for us, as הולכים, becomes clear. We must carry forward the legacy of those whose journeys were so unjustly ended, to continue moving in a world that sometimes seeks to halt our progress. The tragedy of the car graveyard serves as a potent reminder of our responsibility to keep moving, to keep growing, and to never allow ourselves to become עומדים, paralyzed by fear or despair. We honor the memory of those lost by embracing the essence of הולכים, by continuing to move forward, to evolve, and to contribute to the healing and growth of our world.
To Whom It May Concern 