Malka and Chaim’s youngest son. He was born on the 10th of Shevat 5744 (10.1.1984) in Moshav Gamzu in the Judean Lowland near the Ben Shemen Forest, where he grew up in Moshav Gamzu and studied at the Shalhevet State Religious elementary school “At Kibbutz Shalavim, he completed his high school studies at the Nahal Yitzhak high school in the Jezreel Valley, where Sefi was a natural, loving, living, and flora-free child, and his friends and teachers told him about his good character and the joy of life that characterized him. Gold “with which he built and prepared machines and plenty of patents, and his many hobbies included climbing rocks, diving and surfing “If you do not live on the edge you spend a lot of space,” “Snowy peaks …” “Only swimming against the current comes to the sources,” “Only who Who has breathed in road dust, will be able to breathe high altitude air. “In addition to his many occupations, Sefi was always involved in helping to maintain his home and agriculture, and his help was made with great love, smiling, Military “Arazi of Lebanon” in the settlement of Ma’aleh Ephraim, where he stayed for a year and a half. At the end of November 2003, Sefi enlisted in the IDF and served in the Givati Brigade as a combat soldier. He served in the Gaza Strip, on the Egyptian border and fought in the Second Lebanon War, shortly after the end of the war. The war, during his military holiday, on the Saturday night of the “Ki Tetze” affair, September 3, 2006, Sefi was killed in a car accident and he is twenty-two years old. Staff Sergeant Sefi Meguri was buried in the military cemetery on Mount Herzl in Jerusalem at a military funeral attended by all his loved ones, friends and soldiers. Sefi was survived by his parents, grandmother, brother, three sisters and seven nephews who miss him every day. On his grave his good friend, Hanania Zilka, eulogized him: “Sefi, Pony, my brother, here at the edge of the olive grove behind your house, I sit and try to think how you can write farewell to you, how can you describe your whole life, The metals we collected and from which we took to build and weld things, and on the other the corn and vegetable patch that called you ‘the piece of logic in military life’ and the swing you built, a pilgrimage site for your beloved nephews, Flat to sit on, to talk, look at the sky, drink tea from your alpine kettle and plan. The holes in the house, where you first taught me how to drive a tractor, and where you later built challenging passages for the tractor, the vineyard and the raisin drying section you once prepared for me and wrote in quiet letters in the ground, and the “work camp” The time has passed, and the period of ‘Youth Room’ has arrived, the one that you have ordered when breaking the wall to build a chimney, the improvised fireplace that you have built, and countless nights of mushroom picking for soup in cold winter, – End in the hot summer. Every place, any time, everything reminds me of you. And then we reached the army, we enlisted, and everyone was ready, but there too we found common ground. You finished your tour, stood out for your skills, and became the Unit’s Mobility Officer, and on weekends we sat on maps together and planned hinges,Where are we going this week, which back should we check, and most importantly? Where and when to meet on some coffee. And on weekends, the constant war, who swallowed more territory, who was in more beautiful places and who discovered new water sources. My brother Sefi, for twenty-two years you have been a significant part of me and so much I have learned from you. The order of work, the planning of the front, the thinking to the last detail, how to take things in proportion, how to achieve goals no matter what size they are, the joy of life immersed in witty sentences, and that you did everything without a drop of pride, ‘these are my hobbies’ Says modestly. Three days ago we thought how to commemorate Yonatan, and of course you took the practical planning of the matter. You told me that if something happened to you, that I would take a rock from anywhere in the country, basalt from the Golan, chalk and chalk from the lowlands, And I’ll build a modest tombstone for you at the end of Third Street. Sefi, you were like that? Connected to the land, modest and full of hobbies and experiences, and so I will remember you forever. And as you often told me, ‘Life is short, you have to live.’ … Sefi, an excellent fighter in the Givati Brigade’s reconnaissance company, who passed through such a difficult route and was one of the pillars of the team, went out to the command line. At the end of the command course he was given the great responsibility for the mobility officer of the regiment’s regiment, which entails a great deal of responsibility for the quality of the training and, of course, for the safety field. He was the smiling NCO of the training school, the talented hands and the builders who wanted only to help, his love for the Land of Israel and his many trips to every back and spring were his trademark. “May his memory be blessed.” Rabbi Ze’ev Sharon, head of the pre-military academy “Arazi of Lebanon,” eulogized him on his grave: “It is customary to call the root and wonderful people of this land the salt of the earth. You, Seffi, were more than that. You were fat. Like the pure and pure olive oil that you brought me when you came to the preparatory school last Rosh Hashana. You had a special quiet. Not one that characterizes the shy, those who doubt their path. Your silence was the quiet that characterizes the people who know their place, trust in their talent, are safe on their way. When you came to me at the beginning of the second cycle of the preparatory course and said that you wanted to build a rope unit so that you could train for the army, I told you that I did not agree that you needed professional knowledge to build a five meter high installation with metal wires to balance the device that would not fall. Not a job for an eighteen-year-old boy, ‘I told you,’ it’s a heavy responsibility, ‘but you smiled your charming smile at me and said,’ Rabbi, I know what I’m doing. ‘ You talk, and you know the job, you did not even get quiet and did not stop until you found out where to buy the right ropes, and sent me to Tel Aviv to bring them in. B ropes glory including stress scale parallel. And on the upper corner on the right you engraved the initials of your name: “I am loving you sweet from honey and pure as oil.” Sefi’s sister, Yonit, wrote to him: “You were a sweet and intelligent child, independent and clever, you loved the land, nature, you preferred to sleep in the cold tent and not in the warm room. We were all always thinking of you when we needed help, you were the smallest of us but the wisest and the best of us all.Conflicts and ignored them. You had a great love for the land, for life. You did not appear to be afraid, you always succeeded until that cruel night when you went mad without being able to do anything. … You never wanted to see sadness, anger or quarrel between us. Always showing us calmness and patience, proportion. I remember you with a smile and promise you to try to live on your way and to remember you forever. “From the words of Brother Elik:” It happens so fast, like a bad movie Six in the morning and the child is not at seven There is an unclear report about an accident I go out to search Assaf Harofeh and Ichilov 10 The city officer arrives with the message Shock, astonishment, and crazy helplessness beating me mercilessly Holding the family together Father and I are traveling at three for a farewell ceremony at 4:30 We are already in Jerusalem at the funeral Fire, fire, The grave and last farewell for the last time this movie I run in the head day, day moment, moment because suddenly I miss a brother and twenty-two Q You were a brother to me and a friend and in a moment I became a bereaved brother You always told me, “Forget it will be okay, what do not you trust me?” And in the last war you sent me SMS: “My brother do not worry everything is good” and suddenly I had only a stone left to cry for you, to tell you what was on my heart. Sefi, my brother, was a combatant in the Givati reconnaissance unit who took part in the fighting in Gaza and the Egyptian border and fought in the last Lebanon war? He fell in a war we all lose – the war on road accidents. “An evil beast ate it – a prey devouring Joseph.” At the memorial ceremony marking the first anniversary of Sefi’s death, Hananya spoke: “The path that marked my home for two and a half years, Sefi, behind our houses, the path I enjoyed so much. The low ones were for twenty-two and a half years different from the other parts of the grass on the side of the path, which for twenty-two and a half years was marked by germination and the force of the green at the height of the grass, etc. Sefi, a year passed, the path was almost erased. Will be short for you and no other longer way, just the way is not The first thing after your fall, I tried to preserve the path, and then I realized that it would not help me to approach you, so why can I recall every stone sticking out on the path’s path, with its shape and variety but also a matter of time? Even the childhood will remain as powerful as that, there is no chance of forgetting even another year of Yuval, your serene smile, your witty sentences, your tremendous ambitions, your important face at important times. If the paths marking our childhood are over. Sefi, there’s almost a month I do not dream of you, a joint trip or a Saturday night kumzitz or a brief meeting in the country. There is hardly a day when I do not remember you. I see a plowed olive grove, I remember you. I hear the gravel of the stream trampled under the truck tires, I remember you. I see a flickering light of a welder, I remember your image again. So with the first rain and dozens of experiences that increase your image. Miss, your childhood friend. “In memory of Sefi, his loved ones go out on the Sukkot holiday to stroll through the paths of Israel that he loved so much.
