The parents of murdered hostage Ori Danino radiate unbroken faith

Photos: Elchonon Kotler

When their son Ori disappeared into the darkness of the Hamas tunnels, his parents chose to spread a message of light in Israel and abroad.

Last week, after the horrific news of his fate emerged, they spoke of Ori’s path of kindness, and those he’d saved on that dreadful Simchas Torah morning.

In two searing conversations, Elchanan Danino urged greater unity and empathy for the hostages, and Einav spoke of the emunah that she’s shared over the last year. The unity and faith that has accompanied Ori’s ordeal, they say, should be a guiding light as Klal Yisrael navigates the road ahead.

It’s Chol Hamoed Succos, and a shaky cellphone camera records as a chareidi family sings in celebration of a Yom Tov that’s about to turn to grief. Among the white-shirted boys singing joyfully, a tall man dressed in black sports gear doesn’t seem to fit. But as the family sings “Middas Harachamim,” he joins in with fervor. “Ube’ad amcha!” he cries in the video, “ube’ad amcha, ube’ad amcha rachamim sha’ali!”

The clip is a chilling one because of the aftermath. This was the last gathering that soldier-turned-Hamas-captive Ori Danino Hashem yikom damo joined with his family. “Who would have believed that a few days later, Ori would be held by these cursed murderers in captivity?” says his father, Elchanan. “Oy, Tatte, instead of middas harachamim, we had middas hadin.”

The full measure of that judgment landed on the family last week, when they learned — via rumors swirling on the media and chat groups — that their son had been murdered inside a Hamas tunnel.

“Yes, those leaks from irresponsible people reached me as well,” says Elchanan Danino. “And I want to tell those murderers at the keyboard: Know that from the time Shabbat ended, as the dreadful rumors spread, we were murdered, plain and simple.

“From that moment, I tried to contact all the relevant entities in the IDF, but none of them gave me information that bodies had been rescued. Meanwhile, the names continued to be publicized, and my son — oy, my son — he was on the list. They killed us. This is dinei nefashot. We went through this nightmare until four in the morning.”

That was when the official news came.

The officers who knocked on the Daninos’ door in Yerushalayim at 4 a.m. with the horrible news brought to an end 11 months of suffering and hard-fought emunah.

Spiritual connection was something that Ori took from his parents, despite forging his own path away from their way of life. As an officer in an elite IDF unit, he hadn’t been able to daven with a minyan on Yom Kippur. Yet, to immerse himself in the spirit of the day, he would listen to the piyut of “Lecha Keili Teshukati,” by Rav Nissim Gaon, in order to feel Yom Kippur.

And as the family comes to terms with the loss of their eldest, it’s specifically to his own community and side of the political fence that Elchanan Danino speaks.

“Rabbosai, don’t ever lose touch with your children,” he says. “Even if they don’t completely follow your path and even if they don’t always do what we want them to — continue to love them and hug them, despite everything. Because in the long run, it will make a difference, and they’re our children. They don’t have other parents.”

After almost a year over which the issue of the hostages went from being an Israeli consensus to a deeply-politicized struggle between right and left, Elchanan Danino has a strong message for the chareidi community, whose voice has been practically inaudible on this critical issue.

“Unfortunately, there were times that we had this feeling that in the chareidi community, we don’t really feel the pain of the hostage families. It doesn’t have to be that way.”