A Mother's Dream: 'My Son Said, I'm Not Leaving You'

It was during Shabbat on Simchat Torah, the last day of Neriya Aharon Nagari's life. At 6:30 in the morning, heavy rocket fire began, prompting all the recruits and commanders at the base to take cover in a shelter. As time passed, officers were called one by one and never returned; later, it turned out only one survived.

At some point, the recruits, including Neriya, were left alone in the shelter. Many were panicking, crying, and hysterical, but Neriya decided to take charge. He loaded his magazine, assigned roles, gave instructions, and calmed and embraced those who needed it.

"At a certain point, they received a message over the radio that a sergeant at the command post was injured," describes Sharon, Neriya's mother. "Along with them, there was a family who had come to be with the soldiers during the holiday. The mother, a nurse by profession, asked who would join her to help. Neriya was the first to respond, joined by three other soldiers. They went out, carried the injured soldier on a stretcher, and, in a providential decision, chose not to bring her into the shelter but into the command room next to it."

Neriya and another soldier carried the stretcher and stood guard outside the structure. "At some point, terrorists disguised as soldiers, armed with weapons and maps, arrived. One of them fired near the structure, and Neriya ran to ask his friends inside for help to get the soldier in. At that moment, as Neriya turned, the terrorist shot him in the head, and he fell, suffering no pain."

The terrorist, seeing Neriya by the command post, thought the shelter was there and didn’t aim toward the shelter where the soldiers and family were hiding. Neriya essentially drew the fire towards himself, saving everyone inside.

Later, Daniel, a friend of Neriya's, tackled the terrorist, knocking the weapon from his hands but was stabbed in the head. Despite everything, he dragged himself toward Neriya's body to prevent it from being taken. "Thanks to him, we were able to give him a proper Jewish burial," his mother says.

Neriya Nagari HY

'Neriya’s Loss Didn’t Darken Our World'

Sharon Nagari, a coach and mentor for women, helps them create change in relationships. Since losing her son, she finds strength to travel and speak across the country about him and the strength that helps her, despite everything, to hold on to joy. "I feel that talking about him and spreading his light is another mission I have received. In the first weeks after it happened, when I realized I couldn't fit my trainees into my life schedule, I said: 'Even if I have the strength to train again, where will I fit it in?' I am constantly giving talks to women all over, in different places, to seminary girls. Is this my new mission? Then I prayed to Hashem for guidance: 'If You want me to do only this, then show me, and if both, then also show me.' I feel He really did, things began to align. When a change happens, even a positive one like a newborn or a painful one, the family dynamic shifts, and a new order slowly forms."

Your optimism in such circumstances is incredible.

"My husband, children, and I all feel this way because of who they are and what they have been through. Losing a child is heartbreaking. He was very significant in our home, and there are moments of tears and longing, but I always say: it hasn’t colored everything black for us, there are so many things to be happy about and grateful for, thank God.

"Yemima Mizrachi came to comfort and strengthen our community, as we have three fallen soldiers, one of whom is also a friend’s husband. I told her about the miracles we experienced amidst the darkness, and she looked at me in wonder: 'But I don’t understand, how is it that your outlook seeks out miracles, that this is the focus?' I told her, and I also say in my talks: I didn’t work on this, I can’t say it’s something I acquired because I absorbed it from my parents. My parents are Holocaust survivors, saved by miraculous miracles, and their extended families were almost entirely annihilated. And throughout life, instead of hearing about the tragedies they endured, they always spoke more about the miracles. It wasn’t from a place of denying the bad, we knew there was an extended family that perished. But the message always was, and I remember it from just the age of five, that the night a person must recount the exodus from Egypt, is about the miracles from the Holocaust, a perspective that cannot ignore the miracles that occurred in our darkness.

"A woman approached me after a talk I gave, and rightly asked: 'But you breathed this at home, and I, on the other hand, grew up in a pessimistic and critical household, so how can I be like this?' I replied: 'Each of us has things we didn’t receive as a gift and have to train ourselves, but the good news is it’s possible for anyone'.

"Another woman from the community wrote to me that two months ago she heard my talk and since then started training her perspective to seek the good, and 'it’s amazing what’s happening in my life since.' So even what we didn’t receive as a gift, we can work on. Hashem has mercy on us and sends strength, even through Neriya. I even dreamed about Neriya."

What did you dream about Neriya?

"On the night after Simchat Torah, they came to inform us he had fallen, which was a miracle in itself, as some families waited a long time for notification, some waited two and a half months to know the fate of their loved ones because they searched for the body. All night after the terrible news, I couldn’t sleep. Then finally, towards dawn, I fell asleep and dreamed of him. I woke up from my weeping, cried both in my dream and reality. My husband asked what happened, and I told him 'Neriya was here'. It was truly amazing, he not only addressed me with general and personal messages but said 'Mom, I haven’t left you, I am with you, our souls are together. From here, everything looks different, I am swimming in light, I am well, I am in the highest place with the righteous of the world, so be happy'. He also told me what to convey to his siblings and his father and that Hashem loves the entire Jewish people. I felt he was conveying that even the people we don’t agree with, Hashem loves them too, they are also His children.

"My husband wrote a brief version of what he heard from me. I took it and told my oldest sister, who is ten years older than me and a pillar for me now, and she said: you must sit down and write it down on paper, to preserve it. My husband had written it all in shorthand, and then I remembered all the statements. Amidst all the chaos, with the army here, arranging the funeral, trimming the garden for mourners to gather, she told me to take a moment alone and copy everything onto paper. I slipped into his room, sat on his bed, and wrote every detail of the dream, so I wouldn’t forget it, down to the smallest detail.

"A month ago, we—my husband, I, and our children—spent a special Shabbat at a hotel organized by the 'Menucha V’Yeshua' organization for bereaved families. The Shabbat included a very strengthening program. Among the many activities, the founder of the organization asked parents to speak, with the goal of encouraging each other. I told them about the dream I had, then I said: 'Why am I sharing this with you? Because if my son comes to me in a dream and tells me he’s in the highest realms—it’s true for all your children too, their souls don’t leave us.' They approached me to thank me for this comfort."

What can you tell us about Neriya that stood out about him?

"Our Neriya fell before he turned 19 when he was just a two-month recruit in the army. His base was near the border, and he spent Simchat Torah on duty. As a teenager, he was searching for himself. He didn’t continue being religious like us and wanted to determine his path independently, with his questions and dilemmas. We live in Neriya, a religious nationalist settlement. Unlike us, he didn’t look the part of a religious person, often sporting a specific hairstyle and an earring. Initially, we didn’t accept it and argued with him, but then realized we had our internal work to do, which wasn’t about him at all."

Some time ago, Sharon published her first book, encouraged by Neriya: "As a coach for creating changes in relationships, I wrote an entire book based on my trainees’ stories. The book sat in a drawer for years, and Neriya insisted I shouldn’t give up on my dreams. He was part of it and was so happy when the book was published. The book discusses situations where a husband was unwilling to change and cooperate, and women came to training alone, making changes within themselves based on the insight ‘what do you bring to the relationship that brings out this behavior, and what can you do differently for a different outcome?’

"Through him, we also understood we shouldn’t try to change Neriya, but reflect on what we need to experience with him, love him unconditionally, and accept him as he is. Our world—by its nature, obscures. We see outward appearances and get stuck there, but that doesn’t excuse us from looking beyond.

"Neriya didn’t have that black and white outlook, typical of teenagers. He could observe the commandments and Shabbat and the next day feel he couldn’t. A boy facing this could proclaim he no longer observes the commandments, but he never closed the door on his relationship with Hashem, never said, 'I failed Hashem, He is angry with me and doesn’t want me'. At the same time, he didn’t give up on tough mitzvot, returning to them now and then to try again. I talk to seminary girls who sometimes struggle with modesty, and I tell them always to try and return to commandments they gave up on, and they appreciate this advice, saying it changes their perspective entirely.

"Neriya was always at peace with himself, never apologizing for his searches. Someone told a friend that even when Neriya didn’t appear close to serving Hashem, he noted: 'I’m not bothered if people in the settlement look at me with raised eyebrows because I know I’m doing all I can, I’m not upset if someone raises an eyebrow at me, because I’m at peace with my search, but it hurts if they raise an eyebrow at my parents. You don’t know how close to Hashem I feel I am'. There’s someone alone in our community he began to visit with friends, study storytelling, help with chores, bring joy, all quietly. He didn’t boast about his acts, simply doing good.

"Moreover, a teenager like him, who might have looked askance at religious people due to his search, could have rejected their path—and yet he didn’t. A rabbi from a Torah school told us during the week of mourning that he would always greet everyone first, and with Neriya, he simply couldn’t because Neriya always beat him to it. Even though seemingly that rabbi should have symbolized something challenging for Neriya, he always had a good eye and appreciated religious figures."

Since enlisting, Neriya became an outreach ambassador for his platoon members. "My husband is a rabbi, and Neriya’s army friends approached him and said Neriya was their model. Neriya was the only religious member in his unit. He organized Selichot prayers during Elul, and throughout Sukkot, arranged the four species for all the soldiers, including one who had never taken them before. There’s a video of Neriya bringing them closer, exuding happiness, pointing out the blessings in the prayer book, explaining intent with a huge smile on his face. It’s just remarkable how, in the two months he served in the army, he drew closer back to Hashem. Perhaps at our home, where the household is strong and religious, he felt he could distance and explore, and in the unit where no one was religious, he felt he had to cling to the commandments with all his might. The unit rabbi took us on a tour to see where he fell, saying he chose Neriya to lead Yom Kippur services, blow the shofar, and bring friends to study. How intensely this emerged at the end of his days."

"During the week of mourning, friends from across the country came to us from trips he took, and everyone said 'he was our psychologist'. He had a tremendous sensitivity to notice if someone was going through something, even if they were pretending to be happy. When he noticed someone was sad, he took the initiative, asked them to share what was wrong, and would sit with them as long as needed, even two hours, until they smiled again, offering good advice because he was very deep and wise.

"And not just that, but he would also call the next day to ask if there’s improvement. People felt they could confide everything in him because he wasn’t judgmental. It ties back to what I said earlier: he didn’t judge himself, accepted himself in the process, and from that place, he could love the most religious people in the world. When someone distances themselves, it often creates animosity towards these people, but he saw the beauty in everyone. He was a very special child."

What gives you the strength to maintain such optimism in the face of such loss?

"Neriya was an incredible child. My brother-in-law is the head of Yeshivat 'Shavei Hebron', and he said during the thirtieth day meal that when a soul descends to the world, it is shown its trials and asked if it agrees to descend, and in our case, we were asked if we were willing to be those parents, to raise him for less than 19 years and have him die sanctifying Hashem, and we agreed. And they asked Neriya too, if he agreed to live less than 19 years and give up his soul sanctifying Hashem, and he agreed. We all agreed. Then the angel causes us to forget everything, that our soul agreed to this contract. For me, it’s a great privilege I had that he passed through me and a tremendous honor to raise such a soul.

"Additionally, we visited Rabbi Eidel's after Neriya fell," Sharon recounts tearfully. "It was a very emotional meeting, and he told my husband: 'The mother gave Neriya all the light he needed in his life'. I have always prayed throughout my life to be the mother each of my children needs. I cried when he said that."

"In any case, I say it’s impossible, I don’t need to dream of Neriya to ask what he wants, I know he wants us to be happy and choose joy. It’s natural to cry and miss him, and we need that, but he gives us the strength to be happy, he would love to make us laugh, and you can’t think of him and be only sad. His light shines in our hearts and brings us joy even amidst the longing."