Shalhevet
Bais Nissan
On March 26, 2001, Beis Nissan, Shalhevet Pass was in her stroller with her parents, visiting her grandparents in Chevron. Her parents, Yitzchak and Oriya, had been married for two years. Shalhevet, 10 months old, was their first child.
At 4 p.m., a Palestinian sniper aimed at and shot Shalhevet in the head. She died instantly. When Oriya heard the gunshots she grabbed Shalhevet only to discover she was already dead. Yitzchak, pushing the stroller, was seriously wounded by two bullets. Compounding the tragedy, Oriya lay in the playground for hours, not allowing anyone to touch Shalhevet. Shalhevet Techiya, Hy"d, bas R' Yitzchak was buried in the ancient Jewish cemetery in Chevron, and the nation mourned.
The judges who sentenced the terrorist to three life terms said: "It was enough for one bullet, fired from a sniper rifle, to end the life of the infant Shalhevet Pass, who up to that event was unknown to the wide public, and just lived her life as all other children, until one day as the evening came she was hit in her head, and she died, and Shalhevet whom was still small and in her infant stage, was sentenced to death by a vile killer whom intentionally, using a telescopic sight, pulled the trigger. The picture of the shot baby is on our table, is engraved in our minds and does not give peace to our souls. We cannot understand and we cannot accept the unbearable ease with which the killer decided to harm a helpless person... We the judges are only humans and we cannot see anything else but the image which emerges in our senses, an image full of hate, blood and bereavement. We must not accept this image and we need to do everything we can to condemn it."
Rabbi Manis Friedman wrote a song for Baby Shalhevet, sung by his brother Avraham Fried at a concert to benefit Chevron.
(https://youtu.be/o2Xs39KkO8A)
Too young to walk
You went further than us all
And though you never said a word
You said more than words can say
The sweet fragrance of Gan Eden
Was still fresh upon your skin,
The angels cried,
Oh, the day you died
The day your flame lit up the skies, ohhhh.
CHORUS:
Oh baby Shalhevet, there's fire in your name
Without you, there's an emptiness
We are wicks without a flame
You left this world a tiny babe
But to me you're so much more
You're the giant heart of sacrifice
That will open Heavens door.
You left this world a tiny babe
But to me you're so much more
You're the giant heart of sacrifice
That will open Heavens door.
This holy place,
Where our Jewish soul was born
And Davids melodies still ring from every stone
By the cave that holds our history, and where every Jews at home
We breathe its air, oh,
He sent you there,
You're a child of Chevron, ohhhh.
CHORUS: Oh baby Shalhevet, there's fire in your name
Without you, there's an emptiness
We are wicks without a flame
You left this world a tiny babe
But to me you're so much more
You're the giant heart of sacrifice
That will open Heavens door.
You left this world a tiny babe
But to me you're so much more
You're the giant heart of sacrifice
That will open Heavens door.
Go storm the Heavens, little one
Go proudly to His throne
I'm here to plead for Yisroel;
I'm Shalhevet,
Shalhevet from Chevron.
We will never forget you,
Shalhevet...
Shalhevet.
On Shalhevet's tenth yahrtzeit, David Wilder, Chevron resident, tour guide, and activist, interviewed Yitzchak Pass.
Q: You live about 50 meters from the location of the murder. How do you deal with it, on a daily basis? Unfortunately, bereavement, both mine and in a more general national sense, is an integral part of our lives. It's impossible to ignore it and we have to deal with it. I chose to deal with it by living where it happened, to show that it won't break us, to the contrary, it heightens our determination and increases our strength. There's no doubt that every time I walk past the monument put up in Shalhevet's memory, I feel a little pinch at my heart, it's constant, it's opposite my eyes all the time, it's impossible to ignore it, but we learned to live with it, and somehow to receive strength from it.
Q. How did you choose to eternalize Shalhevet?
First of all, from our standpoint, and from that of the entire community, it was a murder that stood out due to its result. This was an infant, ten months old, that shocked the entire world. We received thousands of reactions, letters, not only from Jews and people living in Israel, who shared our grief. We understood that Shalhevet wasn't our private possession, rather, essentially, someone who belonged to all Am Yisrael the Jewish people. One of our first decisions was to write a Torah in her memory. This way, anyone who felt a part of this could be a partner, and many Jews helped us from all over the world, and thank G-d, that Torah, which her grandfather, my wife's father wrote, is here in Hebron. Afterwards, in consultation with others in the community, we decided to open a Torah study hall, to eternalize her name, called Shahevet Techiyat HaAretz (Shalhevet, the living land), It was important to us to show that her murder just intensified our determination to be a part of our land, and that we are willing even to die for its sake, and to raise up and awaken, to instill love for Eretz Yisrael, the importance of our connection to the land, to settle it, to live anywhere and everywhere in our land.
Q. When I stop by the monument with tourists, I stress, above everything else, that the family, despite the terrible tragedy, is still here. How do you stay here? Why?
First of all, we are stubborn. The Jewish people are stubborn, a stiff-necked people. We are enrooted in this land. Both in our personal family, and in a more general way, this is everything. There is nothing, not murder, not Arabs, which can uproot us from here, because we are a stiff-necked people. Despite what the Jewish people have experienced, we have been able to hold our heads high. We have to understand how they lived in Galut where anyone could do whatever he wanted to Jews, and here, and here, in Eretz Yisrael, we hold our heads high, standing straight and tall, no one will ever get us out of here.
שִׂימֵ֨נִי כַֽחוֹתָ֜ם עַל־לִבֶּ֗ךָ כַּֽחוֹתָם֙ עַל־זְרוֹעֶ֔ךָ כִּֽי־עַזָּ֤ה כַמָּ֨וֶת֙ אַֽהֲבָ֔ה קָשָׁ֥ה כִשְׁא֖וֹל קִנְאָ֑ה רְשָׁפֶ֕יהָ רִשְׁפֵּ֕י אֵ֖שׁ שַׁלְהֶֽבֶתְיָֽה
"Place me like a seal on your heart, liked a seal on your arm, for love is as strong as death, jealousy is as strong as the grave; its coals are coals of fire of the flame of G-d."
-Shir Hashirim, 8:6