Her name was Gili, which is Hebrew for joy. I never actually met this young woman. But sometimes the spark and essence of a person seem to jump right off of a photo.
I met Gili’s parents, Eldad and Orna Adar, during a period of my life that seems like eons ago. Before Gili was born, Eldad served as the shaliach, or Israel emissary, for what was then known as the Baltimore chapter of the Zionist Organization of America (now known as the Baltimore Zionist District).
With his schmoozy manner and gap-tooth grin, Eldad was instantly likable, and we became fast friends. Everyone loved this guy, and he was a wonderful ambassador for Israel. He was so laid-back and easygoing, I used to joke with him, “Are you sure you’re Israeli?”
I also used to tease him that being in America with all its creature comforts was going to make him “go soft,” and he wouldn’t be able to return to Israel. (Perhaps it was simply wishful thinking on my part.)
“Oh, my friend, you don’t know who you’re talking to,” he’d gently admonish me, reminding me of his family’s generations of deep roots in Israel. “I love America. It’s beautiful. But Israel will always be my home.”
After a couple of years, Eldad remained true to his word and returned home to Israel. But not before making a number of good friends here with whom he still keeps in touch, thanks to the wonders of social media.

It was a Facebook post on that horrific day of Oct. 7 that informed me that Gili, the Adars’ radiant 24-year-old daughter with an infectious smile and a love for the outdoors, was among the missing attendees of the Supernova music festival near Kibbutz Re’im.
The tragedy unfolding in Israel was already clearly a nightmare, but Gili’s disappearance made the situation hit home even more for me. Even though I hadn’t seen Eldad and Orna in decades, the bonds of certain friendships transcend time and space. They are compassionate, phenomenal people, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine their pain and anguish.
Like many people around the world, I prayed for Gili’s safe return home to her beloved family. Unfortunately, a few mornings later, my wife tearfully woke me to say she saw a post that the family was notified that Gili was among the 260 young Israelis brutally murdered by the Hamas terrorists. I felt my heart sink.
In his heart-wrenching eulogy, Eldad employed such phrases as “child of light” and “queen of joy” to characterize his daughter.
“I sit down to write you words of eulogy. My head hurts and refuses to accept this ghastly reality,” he said. “How is it that a mother and father must bury their child? After all, you and Death are opposites — and death doesn’t much suit you, Gili.”
He wrote that his daughter was “gifted with rare and special abilities to understand the hearts and needs of whomever you met. A special sensitivity and emotional intelligence developed far more than anything expected of your peers. …You know how to reach out to everyone, to open their innermost feelings and be ready to help, gifted with the special skills of insight and understanding.”
Despite their heartbreak and loss, Eldad said his family would not fall prey to hatred.
“Miserable people whose values are the opposite of your own tried to extinguish our light,” he told Gili. “But we won’t let it happen. We know very well what your will is, Gili, our wonder child. We stand here with our backs straight and our heads held high … exactly as you want us to be. We are grateful for every minute and moment we earned by your side. You were larger than life.”
May God comfort Eldad and Orna and all of the family and friends of Gili Adar, and all of the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.
Sincerely,
Alan Feiler, Editor-in-Chief
