Folk, Reut

Daughter of Varda and Ze’ev. She was born at sunrise on Friday, 5.3.1979, at the Hadassah Hospital on Mount Scopus in Jerusalem, a child of “Sandwich” – between Elad, the older brother and Inbal the younger sister, but since they were born in small increments, Re’ut was a beautiful and happy nature girl, well connected to the land, the landscape and the animals, walking barefoot and smiling at the sun that had sunk the sun. From her early age, she discovered independence and a great thirst to taste and experience everything that life has to offer.Raut started her first year at the Hess In the village of Hamra, one of the communities in the Jordan Valley, at the end of that year the family moved to Ariel, and Reut entered the second grade at the Aliza Begin elementary school, where she moved to sixth grade, Where she studied at the high school in Ariel, where she studied at the junior high school and high school. On this period, her cousin Hadas wrote: “We always knew that our leg would reach as far as possible, and that even at the fingertips we could not touch what your came with so easily, gracefully and with the end of a wonderful youth.” She was a very creative and talented girl in a variety of fields. Her attraction to the stage was discovered when she was a child, in gymnastics and gymnastics where she participated. Later, she joined the drama club, where she had an impressive game. When the performance of the play “Oz Li Gutz Li” was performed, Reut played the role of narrator and captivated the audience – children and adults alike. Following the play, she became the object of admiration among Ariel’s children, and received many letters that warmed her heart. One of them was Aviv’s letter to her: “You were so nice but also sweet, I wanted to tell you a few sweet and sweet words: You were ten but for me you were a thousand, more than ten … You are so wonderful and cute like Shoshana, She also received compliments in other plays in which she participated, and especially for her performance in the lead role in the play “The Girl From There.” Reut’s days were full of activity and vigorous activity, and each moment was used to the fullest. Each mission took seriously and did not compromise on less than perfect. Reut was ambitious, loved challenges and was determined to get as far as possible, conquer more and more peaks. In the field of sports, she excelled in running and participated in competitions, in the field of music she played clarinet, and in the social sphere she did well. As a young member of the Maccabee youth movement, she enjoyed the contents and activities, and later became a beloved guide. In the many camps to which she emerged, Reut was a leader in leadership, in the responsibility she took upon herself, and in her ability to become familiar with the field and adapt herself to its conditions. Reut, as she was, was always surrounded by friends. She was very loyal to her friends who were a cohesive group, and the phone, according to her mother, worked during those hours overtime … Reut’s photographs taken over the years testify to moments of joy, joy and pleasure – the gatherings, shopping, more and more. The source of the true strength, the place from which evil drew the sense of security, belonging and great love was the house. Her mother recalls: “The family meals on Friday nights, the steamed vegetables I prepared especially for you, and you made sure to wipe them with your long, delicate fingers straight out of the pot …”Based on mutual admiration, she had with Grandpa Elijah. Another aspect of Reut’s personality was more private, intimate, and lyrical. Reut was very fond of reading, and as a very sensitive girl who was aware of the complexity of life, she did not settle for simplistic answers and asked to explore things in depth, using the books sailed into wondrous and magical worlds. Beside her bed was a pile of books-fairy tales, tales, stories about fairy and magic, stories about children and adventures-and, in fact, books on every subject. In addition to writing to the school newspaper, she sent her hand to write poems. It was a very personal, unmediated writing, “which connects the hearts, in a beautiful and rich language that permeates all the branches of the soul,” in the words of her mother. An example of this is a poem written by Reut as commander of a team in the army, at the end of one of the courses she commanded: “Screeching of a gate / and behind it the unknown, / the possibilities are endless, and only now is the journey beginning. The depth of your face is reflected // It is easy to run away and to despair, / To go back there There is no challenge and no fear // Behind you Traces / and in the horizon The future, Only knowing to take advantage of inner strength and perseverance. In 1996, during her high school years, Reut went on a tour of Poland with a delegation of students from the school. The visit to the death camps left a strong impression on her and strengthened her connection to the country and the state, as well as the desire to contribute. In these years, out of awareness and recognition of the need to work for the public, she underwent a first aid course and volunteered in Magen David Adom. On August 13, 1997, Reut enlisted in the IDF, the Nahal Brigade. After completing basic training she went to the boys’ boys’ course and graduated with honors, first as a tour guide in the “Girls’ Camps” course at Camp 80, but thanks to her high grades and impressive commanding opinions, she was sent to an officer’s course. On August 15, 1998, she began the course and successfully completed it on October 7, 1998. She was placed as a platoon commander at the base of the basic training, and her eyes are forward, and Deputy Reut Polak fell in her position on December 18, 1998, when she was nineteen. In the Kfar Saba military cemetery, parents, brothers and sisters are left on the gravestone of Reut: “For such an evil will never allow us to forget.” On the first anniversary of her death, the family wrote: “Dear and beloved Reut ! A year has passed … three hundred and sixty-five days of longing, pain, and crying. Every day lasts as an eternity in which you, Reut, live in our hearts and souls. And we remember and love you all the time. Through the trench of tears we remember those days, the hours and the moments that were full of conversations and laughter, dances and songs. Some of our songs were collected and collected: childhood songs, mature songs, car travel songs, pantomime and dance songs and of course your song, the song of friendship. “Towards the fourth anniversary of Reut’s death, Yael, Arla, Ido, Eran and Omer wrote:” The beginning of December, it’s already almost winter … and again we’re here with you … hard To write and tell, it is difficult to choose the right word … The right word to describe in the most precise way, not sentimental, not too hard or too painful, a word that will fit – and the truth, that between us, it was not easy … early December, Winter … In the houses Chanukah, candles – and again we are here with you on the “New Year.” The holiday since that day is no longer the same holiday, instead of the candles are burning ‘foreigners’ … On the anniversary of each year will come friends, friends and family from Jerusalem, Kfar Saba, Tel Aviv and Hadera. Your girlfriends love and missRuth, who come year after year … To be near you, to be with you … Time has stopped … But your stories and you are flowing and magical … In the pictures you laugh, cry, clown, serious … The pictures tell us everything that we actually You already knew that you were so much, in so little time … You managed to fulfill dreams that people dream for generations … You traveled, boardwalked, laughed, read, played on stage and received applause … You had the courage to try, Find out, dare to fly higher – many of us do not dare fly at all. Everything you know, we learn now very slowly … and again we are here with you on the “anniversary” to tell you that you are with us all year long … every day … every hour … every moment … “Naomi Bar Shavit, Reut’s favorite teacher, wrote things in her memory: “What a bad thing suddenly happened to us. Always-so beautiful, tall and controlled. Madonna’s face is as real as it used to be, of the great painters. Always-a little smile, skeptical, not loud or ostentatious, but one that examines and examines and thinks. Always-inquiring and inquisitive, waiting for answers, not those after hand, if not real truth, so better not at all! Always – involved and intervening only by personal choice, not by order, command or statement. Always – so versatile with the ability to prune all the thin threads in all of us, to filter and select like fine tweezers and adopt the most appropriate. Always – a lot of power. Determination and insistence on principles, alongside vulnerability that is seen with a sloping look and a small tilt of the head. Always, always keeping ‘Passon’, impulse, eagerness and desire for something complete, which is entirely personal and yours alone. Almost always – in long curls, long and neat, almost a playful frame in front of you beautiful and obvious. And sometimes a particularly beloved face-with curly hair gathered like a dancer, a ballerina, a real soloist. Creativity, unique humor, writing and acting ability, so many qualities in such a young person. So many qualities in a loved one. Always … “and wrote the friends and friends, the special and crystallized group:” Reut, dear and dear friend of ours. … The words are too small to contain the long-standing friendship, all the little jokes, the dances, the dinners, the birthday parties that have become a tradition, the trips to Tiberias and Eilat, the shopping trips all over the country. Reut, we are not coming to say good-bye to you. Even if we really want to, and try to put a point, and say that enough – we can never, we still have a lot of things to tell you … and that you’ve been told quietly… We want you to know that we are so proud of the giant that we had the privilege of knowing you. So beautiful and talented, loving and supportive, all you can ask of the best friend. Reut, it’s so hard for us to talk about you in the past tense, because maybe technically, in dry terms you’re no longer here, but inside you are so alive … … Rest in peace! Dear friend, if you hear us now … You know that we love you so much, and miss you, and it hurts so much … In a love that can not be described in words … “After Reut’s fall, her friends used to leave songs for her, Quiet “/” now everything is okay / even the suffocation is about to be released / it is not hell and certainly not paradise / it is the world there is and there is no other world “/ quiet as if you have no fault / as if the air gives you protection / Bar crystallize beauty / like dust blooming rose. // As if you did not grow up in a well-groomed landscape / Like seeing a hand in the fist of rage / Like the beam of light here found you … “In 2007, nine years after Rahu’s death”What do you write after nine years?” They say that people are used to living without, they say they forget, they say that over the years they go through a process that in a beautiful language is called “the mourning process” and in which they come to accept – it does not work for me. I do not have the bad feelings I can tell her things, gossip and consult … and when the little Amit comes, she wants the pictures on the computer and immediately points to your picture and reminds me of ‘my friend, my friend …’ and I look at the picture with my eyes wide , The charming doe eyes, the artistically painted lips, the delicate features and the veiled look, and I try to remember everything, but even the sound of your voice has faded and I can not reconstruct it … everyone touched life with a gentle flutter of a charming butterfly and disappeared, but we all still feel the flutter and it is missing us in the days, moments, and intensities throughout life. Edna Mitwach-Meller’s “Poem for Violin and Piano,” which Sharat defined as “a very special woman, a wonderful writer, is really from the heart.” Reut’s mother dedicated one of the songs in the book to her daughter: “A gift”: “A little girl for a while, / A big cry rises for a malfunction. This is an angel who did not create a pain that pierced our skin / And his bodies were like a mole / Birds screamed and fled on the run to the avenue // A conditional child for a fixed period, Another smile, Another sound, A word, A look, The birdie took tears as a side / And the darkness covered the burning of the parting. ” Reut’s parents donated to the Shema Association – a society that treats children with hearing impairments – children’s books – the books Shar’at loved so much to read and carried to the worlds of beauty, dream and magic. In the postcard they printed, alongside her picture, the parents write about Reut’s love for books and invite the children to experience her rich inner world.