Ben Sarah and John. He was born on August 28, 1978 in Kibbutz Beit Zera, the brother of Benny Ami, Yoav and Tzila. Gadi attended elementary school in Beit Zera and completed his high school studies in the physics track at the Kinrot School in Beit Zera. With the crown of his red hair and the smile that always lit his face, he easily conquered the hearts of those around him. Gadi is gifted with a rare amount of intelligence and sensitivity. These, combined with additional qualities, personal integrity of the highest order, and a desire for a high level of performance in each field, left their unique mark on all his activities. Gadi was a good friend, attentive to the needs of others, willing to help and help anyone as he could. He visited him warmly and affectionately, not hesitating to express his love and appreciation, with thoughtful gestures filled with emotion. Sarah, his mother, wrote to him, “When you looked at each other, I felt transparent about you, your sensitivity to every person and especially to us allowed you to see the human soul in. I never heard you relate to people around in terms of beauty or ugliness, After all, you saw the person beyond his eyes, your penetrating gaze with him, you succeeded in ‘reading’ almost everyone, allowing you to feel and feel the people around you effortlessly, and usually before I said a word you knew exactly what was in my heart … ” The great openness and awareness of his surroundings, his keenness to detail and nuances in his experience of the world, his varied artistic talents have grown. His grandmother Edith and his grandfather, Ben Zion, say: “In our house, it is visible from every corner … Where we look, small and dear objects to the heart: small wax dolls made by his hands from the drips of Hanukkah candles, a string of mosaics made of beads, The dictionary is written by way of conversation or playing in capital letters and in two special writing styles ‘Grandma Edith’ … “. He was also a talented painter. With a sensitive hand he wrote on the paper, translating into lines and shades the unique essence of the person facing him. In his paintings he clearly expressed complex personal content, allowing a rare glimpse into his inner world. Gadi enlisted in compulsory military service at the end of March 1997. Upon completion of basic training, he was placed in an ammunition base of the IDF’s Technology and Logistics Division in northern Israel. He was well integrated into the team and was described by his commanders as a diligent and dedicated soldier, precise and analytical in his work, who showed motivation and a strong desire to contribute. He quickly learned what was required of him, and every task he was given was done efficiently. In particular, he was intrigued by the preoccupation with computing. He showed interest and involvement and contributed to the life of the unit both professionally and socially. Thus, for example, he brought one morning to a base of cookies and rolls he inhaled with his own hands. His commanders and his comrades in the unit had a conversationalist and a friend. His comfortable and considerate nature made the work with him a great pleasure. Gadi fell during his military service on August 4, 1997. He was brought to eternal rest in the military section of the Beit Zera cemetery, leaving behind his parents, two brothers and a sister. In his memory booklet, his mother, Sarah, wrote to him: “… our Gadi – you are still a young deer whose horns have not yet grown but in your intellect, in your soul and in your talent you are the greatest of giants – I look at your paintings over and over again and always marvel at the wonderful drawings Which include all the details … And only one detail is difficult to understand: that a flower like you, very beautiful, rare in its qualities and qualities, must not be picked and tried Youth, and even if we need water to water under very special growth, sometimes these are tears of anger or sadness, it is clear that our world was growing uneasy na tree sapling”The same booklet also wrote to his brother Yoav:” I, like you, believe that nothing is left of us after death, but every day I find myself talking to you in my thoughts, loving you and hurting you , I love you in my heart, and miss you, so miss you. If I could say good-bye to you, just tell you that I love you, that what’s hard for you is just a sign of your sensitivity to others, how good you are. But I was so far away, and you suffered so much. And I did not tell you, and you chose the void, and your death filled me with a pain I never knew before. “
