On Sunday night I attended grand banquet of the annual conference of Chabad emissaries. Each year, all the shluchim (emissaries) in the world get together for five days of workshops and brotherhood, which culminates in the grand banquet. This year’s highlight was when Moshe Holtzberg stood in front of thousands and read the tehillim in a sweet, pure voice.
You see, the last time I saw Moshe Holtzberg was seven years ago, right after his parents were killed in a brutal terror attack in Mumbai, India. His parents, Gabi and Rivki, the Chabad shluchim to Mumbai, ran the Nariman House, providing selflessly for all who came their way. Exactly seven years ago to the day, on Rosh Chodesh Kislev, terrorists took the Chabad house hostage, killing everyone inside.
Except for little Moshe.
His nanny, Sandra, had been hiding on a lower level, and when she heard the two-year-old boy crying, she ran upstairs and found him standing and crying over the bodies of his parents. She grabbed him and fled.
When I watched his parents’ funeral, I saw Moshe on the television, crying, “Ima, Ima… (Mother, Mother…).” This beautiful two-year-old child was crying for his mother who he would never see again.
Fast forward seven years… Moshe has been living with his loving grandparents in Afula. And when I saw him Sundaynight, this was not the pitiful two-year-old I remember. He strode onto the stage with confidence and maturity. He read a chapter of tehillim, praying for world peace, and inspiring us all. He received a standing ovation; the shluchim could not stop clapping.
The last time I saw Moshe I cried, and this time I cried too. But this time it was tears of joy, nachas and triumph for this beautiful boy, who has overcome so much tragedy in his short life.
In this week’s Torah portion we read, “The voice is the voice of Jacob, and the hands are the hands of Esau.” We see now, as clearly as ever, that our enemies’ strength lies in their hands. They use knives and guns to attack, terrorize and kill us. Of course, we have to do everything in our power to defend ourselves, but we also need to remember that our true strength lies in our “voice” —our faith, observance of the mitzvot and belief in G-d.
I remember the Mumbai terror attacks vividly. I remember the hand of Esau coming to the Chabad house, and for 48 hours we had no information about what was going on inside. We were shocked and banded together in prayer and hope. Tragically, when the siege ended we found out that the worst had happened.
When I heard Moshe’s voice on Sunday night, I knew we had emerged victorious. Moshe is alive and well, strong and confident. He carries the legacy of parents, Gabi and Rivki, proudly and with confidence, continuing where they left off. May he continue to heal and forge ahead with strength and clarity.