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| Magazine Feature |

Light After Night   

 Four fathers of hostages share their dreams, faith, and struggles that no parent is ever prepared for

Finally, there’s closure. For some families, it’s the euphoria of actually seeing their sons alive after two years of being starved, shackled, and tortured in Hamas dungeons. For others, it’s the fusion of pain and gratitude in bringing their murdered loved ones to kever Yisrael. But none of that can erase the emotional journey of the past two years.
Four fathers — men whose children were taken captive by Hamas — have lived every day since Simchas Torah 2023 with the unbearable weight of uncertainty, their lives suspended between anguish and faith. Each has walked his own path through trauma, prayer, and resilience, holding fast to hope even when it seemed to flicker. Their stories, though different, intertwine in a shared language of pain, endurance, and an unbroken belief that rays of light can shine again after the darkest night.

“H

ow many tefillot, how many bakashot?” says Chagai Angrest, father of Matan (Matan ben Anat). “We visited kivrei tzaddikim, the homes of rabbanim, we prayed and pleaded. And when I heard the news that we’d soon be seeing Matan alive, there are just no words to describe what my heart was feeling.”

I’ve spent the past few months in close contact with four fathers: Chagai Angrest, Ofir Braslavki — father of Rom (Rom ben Tamar), Dani Miran — father of Omri Miran (Omri ben Veronica Esther), and Michel Illuz — father of Guy Hy”d, who died from his wounds in captivity. Over the past two years, each of them has weathered his own storm, finding the inner strength and resources to get through a parent’s worst nightmare.

Together, we were at the Kosel for the first and last Selichos (the Sephardi minhag is to say Selichos from Rosh Chodesh Elul), we visited gedolei Yisrael, and we experienced countless special moments as these special parents refused to succumb to despair, even when it looked like their sons might languish in Gaza indefinitely.

At the beginning of the summer, Sephardi chief rabbi Rav David Yosef held a meeting with the families of the remaining hostages — both the living ones and those whose bodies were being held by Hamas. Michel Illuz, who knew he would never see his son return alive, sat across from the Rav with tears running down his face. He spoke about Guy, about the loss and about the pain, and pleaded with the Rav to bless him with a level of peace and closure. Rav Yosef hugged the bereaved father, wept with him and promised to do everything in his power to help bring his son to kever Yisrael.

“We have been through a very long journey,” Michel Illuz told Mishpacha this week. “It had many ups and downs as we battled to return our sons. We offered a tefillah to the Borei Olam to give us the strength to continue working so that each and every one who was dragged into Gaza that day should be returned to their family, both the living and the deceased.

“I knew that I would be getting my Guy back in a coffin, but as painful as that was, it was a light in the darkness — my beloved Guy would merit a kever Yisrael. I’d prayed for this for two years. And although I will never be able to hug my son again, it doesn’t take away my joy for those parents whose children have returned alive.”

When terrorists abducted Guy from the Nova music festival, the last words to his family were recorded in a phone call: “Dad, I love you. They shot me.” Guy and the friends who were together with him were all shot — some of them died in his arms, and he was the only survivor of the group.

After freed hostage Maya Regev was released in the first swap, she shared that Guy — a guitarist and sound engineer for prominent musicians — had been tied to a bed beside her at Shifa Hospital. Wounded and untreated, he slowly died in front of her, while the medical staff watched and did nothing.

“ON

the first night of Selichot on Rosh Chodesh Elul, we stood on the stage that was set up at the Kotel, with 100,000 Jews in front of us. When Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz, the rav of the Kotel, recited the tefillah for the return of the hostages and the crowd of tens of thousands thunderously answered ‘Amen,’ I knew that we had the ability to tear the gates of Heaven,” says Dani Miran, who refused to shave his beard for two years until his son Omri was released.

“The chizuk that we got from Am Yisrael, from across the spectrum, was tremendous. And I have no doubt that this connection between us, between all the parts of this nation, had the power that ultimately brought our children back home.”

Omri, 47, a shiatsu therapist, was taken captive when terrorists broke into his Nahal Oz home, forced his family out of their safe room, and, in front of his wife and children, took him away and made him drive his own car into Gaza. Over the last two years, Omri was held in 23 different places in Gaza, and was fortunate that most of them were above ground. Although he was given minimal rations, he would often cook for his captors, who loved his cooking. He also made sure to keep track of time, always knowing the date and how many days he was in captivity, and spent most of his days playing cards with his captors.

Meanwhile, he was alive, but would he ever be freed? “I knew in my heart that he would return,” Dani says. “There was no other option. And I’ll tell you something else. That same evening at the Kotel, there were many families with us, among them the daughters of Ilan Weiss Hy”d, and Eli Shtivi, the father of Idan Hy”d, both of whose bodies were being held by the murders.”

Ilan Weiss, 56, was murdered by Hamas terrorists in his home in Kibbutz Be’eri and his body was taken hostage to Gaza, and Idan Shtivi, 26, died in Gaza after being kidnapped while helping others flee during the music festival.

“A few days after this tefillah,” Dani continues, “the IDF brought Ilan and Idan back to Israel in a special joint Shin Ben operation. They merited to be brought to kever Yisrael. It was clear to me that our tefillot would not be rejected and that my Omri would also come home.”

But there were also grave disappointments along the way. “When the last deal fell apart and the second stage wasn’t implemented, meaning there were still 20 live hostages in Gaza, I was in indescribable pain. So in the days before this deal was signed, I was very nervous. It’s natural. A person is afraid to get his hopes up and then be disappointed. All that we had left to do was to pray that Hashem guide the hands of all the parties involved.”

Now that Omri is home, will his father shave his beard? “So far, not,” he says. “I guess it’s become a bit like my symbol of faith.”

O

fir Braslavski of Jerusalem says he’s finally been able to sleep for the first time in two years. “The nights were dreadful,” he says. “How could I sleep knowing my son was there, in those cursed tunnels, in the hands of the lowliest creatures?”

Rom Braslavski, now 21, was an active-duty soldier who was working at the Nova festival while on army break when he was kidnapped — although that fact was never revealed publicly to avoid endangering him.

He was one of several security guards who saved lives at his own risk when the terrorists attacked. He was wounded in his hands while bringing several people to safety, yet continued to save others, despite having the opportunity to escape, according to survivors who saw him in action. He was last seen in the early afternoon, several hours into the attack, helping a young partygoer who was hiding in a garbage receptacle.

Rom was captured by Islamic Jihad, not Hamas — the reason there was no information about his fate for a year and a half until March 2025, when returned hostage Sasha Troufanov said he and Braslavski had been held together for a short period.

While he was tortured and starved during captivity, his Jewish identity was strengthened as his captors would offer him extra food in an attempt to persuade him to convert to Islam. When he refused, he suffered more abuse — multiple daily whippings and other forms of torture.

The second sign of life from him was  a recent Hamas propaganda video, in which he appeared to be emaciated and in critical condition, indicating that he was on the verge of starvation.

“Then came that horrific video,” says Ofir. “My son appeared to be dying and the doctors who saw the video assessed that he had just days to live. These are moments that I cannot even begin to describe — pain like I haven’t felt in my entire life, moments that you can’t deal with.

“But then, when we got the news that Rom was coming home, I was gripped by this feeling that maybe I didn’t do enough, I didn’t take enough action — but the truth is, I did everything in my power. I screamed and I prayed, I protested and I cried. The results were out of my hands.”

“IN

these past two years, our cry, that of the parents and the families, and of all of Klal Yisrael, surely rose to the heavens,” says Chagai Angrest, who lives in Kiryat Bialik outside Haifa. “A few months ago, I visited the kever of the tzaddik Rebbe Shayele of Kerestir in Hungary. I believe that these tefillot, the reserves of emunah that we’d never tapped into before but somehow discovered — because who could fathom such a horrific scenario or prepare you for such pain — brought about this salvation.”

Chagai’s son Matan was kidnapped from his tank during the battle at Nahal Oz, in which Capt. Daniel Peretz, Sgt. Tomer Leibovitz, and Sgt. Itay Chen were killed. Chen’s body is still in Gaza.

After his release, Matan revealed he had limited exposure to news while in captivity and spent five months completely alone. He said one of the things he did to keep his sanity and perspective was to pray three times a day. At some point, his request for a siddur was honored, and that kept him grounded. Eventually, he was held together with freed hostage Gali Berman (Gali ben Talya), and, Matan shared, Gali had a Chumash, so the two of them read through it repeatedly. He said he now knows every parshah by heart.

“During these two years,” says Chagai Angrest, “we’ve gotten to know thousands of people for whom Matan and every other hostage were like family. They lived him, prayed for him, shared in our pain, and now, b’ezrat Hashem, in our rejoicing. It never ceases to move me. This Succos, right before the release, I had the privilege of visiting Rav David Abuchatzeira in Nahariyah, and Rav Dov Kook in Teveria. These brachot gave us strength, and the embrace of the gedolei Yisrael is something for which we are endlessly grateful. Over and over, we heard from gedolei Yisrael, from the tzaddikim, the idea that Hashem Yitbarach gave us a mission through our pain: to help Am Yisrael draw closer to each other, like one man with one heart. The unity among us is the strength that can change the bleakest decrees.”

 

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1083)

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