Unfathomable Trauma/Unbelievable Beauty

By Brenna Gross

Walking over the faded footsteps of the murdered teens and young adults in the Re’im Forest, it felt surreal staring at their frozen, lifeless faces while I heard the beloved anthem Hatikvah being interrupted by the launching of distant rockets. About a mile from Gaza, at the Nova Music Festival Memorial Site, I marveled at the natural beauty of the Re’im Forest and contrasted the vibrant colors of the sunset with the blinding darkness of October 7th. While listening to the personal stories of mutual friends killed at the festival, the Federation kindly gave my mother and me a candle to light in the memorial for anyone at the site of the tragic event. My first thought while walking through was, “How can I pick just one person to light for?” 

Shalom! I am Brenna Gross, a 19-year-old freshman at the University of Kansas studying Business Administration, International Business, and Spanish. Before moving to college I was heavily involved in Bet Shalom Temple Youth (BeSTY) throughout high school. I served as the Membership Vice President my first two years on the BeSTY Board and was elected as the Co-President along with my long-time Consecration best friend, Mason Krasnoff, for our junior year. 

After October 7th I awoke each morning feeling helpless and broken. Hearing about the trauma endured by my friends and family living in Israel, unsure as to what or whom to believe, and fearing anti-semitism on campus, I was forced to struggle through my loneliness. The silence of my peers, who seemed oblivious to the horrors faced by my loved ones, added to my sense of alienation. With the news sounding more like a nightmare than a fathomable reality, I felt lost; yet proud to be a part of the Jewish story.  

Before the Federation's Solidarity Mission, my only visit to Israel had been in the summer of 2021 on a BBYO Passport Israel Journey. Since then, I had longed to return to the holy land, seizing any opportunity that arose. Thanks to my friend Jeremy Rosenwald, I learned about this mission and was pleasantly surprised by the generous financial support offered by the community. I felt compelled to participate, both for the sake of others and for myself.

Two of the most difficult moments on my adventure were at The Nova Memorial and the Square for the Missing and Kidnapped. More than the silence and faint hum of the trees, the BOOMs deafeningly reminded us of the mourning of thousands. Every direction I turned, I saw a new face—a different life, story, and tragedy. While walking through the overwhelming number of pictures, I was suddenly stopped by the framed sight of a young woman’s paused laughter. Assuming she was my age, I stared at her permanent smile and sobbed. Without knowing anything more than her name, I felt the joy she contributed to this world and knew we needed to light our candle for her. I think of one of my favorite reality TV shows, Survivor, and hear Jeff Probst’s voice at tribal council, ritually repeating “In this game, fire represents your life. When your fire is gone, so are you.” But Gili’s life, and innocent passion to live, was not a game. It was real, and it was stolen. I needed to keep her light shining, her flame burning. After a few days of processing, and more volunteering, I shared on social media my experience with Gili’s picture at Nova. I ended up finding out Gili’s life story from two friends who knew her separately. Each of them uniquely shared with me Gili’s sparkle as a human and the fact that she saved the lives of their loved ones at the festival on that scarring night. That these friends don’t know each other is an unimaginable coincidence that screams “small world” and connection. I never met Gili, but I miss her. Like hundreds of others taken too soon, she is a hero whose light will forever shine through darkness. 

Now back into my routine as an American college student, I continue to fight for Israel and defend its rights and the necessity of the state. Still experiencing anti-semitism on campus and trying to combat it by sharing what I witnessed with my own eyes, I teach what I learned, emphasizing Israel’s history and its protection for the Jewish people. I never fully understood how strong the people’s ties are to Israel until I met the families of the hostages. I constantly think of the hostages who haven’t seen the light of the sun for more than 175 days (and of how I must increase that number each time I share about this mission). I think about the Jewish singer Noah Kahan and his song lyrics that I wrote on the Hamas tunnel replica in Tel Aviv, reminding Israelis, “Don’t let this darkness fool you. BRING THEM HOME NOW.” I think of the mom waiting for her son to come home from captivity in Gaza to clean his messy room. I think of the dreamers who were solely trying to celebrate life, dance with their childhood best friends, sing along at a festival, and have a peaceful night with their families. We only heard tens of thousands of stories of their horror and heroism over the last five months. So if you have ever hoped to travel to Israel, the time is now. The people need your support. I hate the reason I met these beautiful humans, but there is no doubt that I will carry their memories forever. AM YISRAEL CHAI!