My name is Itay Ram, and I’m about to share a story that will forever be etched in my memory. It’s a tale of survival, faith, and the inexplicable power of divine intervention that unfolded on October 7th in Kibbutz Nir Oz.
The Fateful Call
It was a day like any other until my father’s frantic call shattered the peace. “There are terrorists in our house,” he said, his voice trembling with fear. He pleaded with me to get help – the police, the army, anyone. Without a second thought, I grabbed a knife and jumped into my car. I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I turned back.
A Terrifying Encounter
As I approached the kibbutz through the fields, an eerie silence enveloped the area, punctuated only by the crackling of burning houses. What I saw next chilled me to the bone. A group of civilians stood near the entrance, but something felt off. When I asked who they were, their silence spoke volumes. These weren’t our people – they were Palestinians
A Narrow Escape
The moment they realized I was Jewish, all hell broke loose. They lunged at my car, trying to drag me out. By some miracle, I managed to escape, but not before they riddled my vehicle with bullets. It was as if an invisible shield protected me – every shot hit the right side of the car, leaving me unscathed
The Siege of My Parents’ Home
For 12 excruciating hours, my parents and sister endured a living nightmare. Terrorists turned their house into a command center, repeatedly trying to break in. The caretakers held onto the door handle for dear life as the intruders attempted to force their way in. It was a test of endurance – no food, no water, just sheer will to survive
Divine Protection
About a month before this horrific day, I had placed mezuzahs on my parents’ doorways – small cases containing biblical verses. I told them these would protect them. Little did I know how prophetic those words would be. Their survival, against all odds, felt nothing short of miraculous
A Strengthened Faith
This ordeal has only deepened my faith. Eight months prior, I had started using tefillin – small leather boxes containing biblical scrolls that Jewish men wear during morning prayers. After the attack, I found my tefillin untouched in the trunk of my bullet-ridden car. To me, this was another sign of divine protection
A Message of Hope
Today, as I stand amidst the ruins of Kibbutz Nir Oz, my heart aches for those still held captive. My greatest wish is for their safe return. This experience has taught me that our true salvation comes not from earthly powers, but from a higher source. It’s a lesson in faith, resilience, and the power of miracles
As I conclude my story, I can’t help but feel a mix of gratitude and hope. May we all find strength in these challenging times and may good news reach us soon.
