Since I was a little girl, I’ve always liked Poppies.
I remember when they taught us about law-protected flowers, you know, those that you can’t pick – even if it’s your deepest desire. Out of the list, poppies were my favorite.
I still can’t figure out what drew me to this flower so badly – their strong red color, their noble appearance, the fact that they are not hiding under a rock. They stand out, upright, and proud.
I remember wondering, how weird it is. That such a fragile and delicate flower, one that could be crushed so easily, stays in place, in such a remarkable way.
The Poppies always represented the south of Israel, as it was the place where they bloomed the most. So much so, that for over a decade, each year, there has been a “red south” festival in which people across the country, and even the world, gather to see how the south of Israel fills up with those amazing flowers, which are so important to protect.
Those flowers, which are full of pride, are also forced to represent something else. Those flowers must carry on themselves such a heavy weight, more than their fragile stem can bear.
The Poppies tell in complete silence, the unspeakable story only they got to witness.
The Poppies caught in their petals the screams of our brothers and sisters, our kids and our parents, who got brutally, and without a drop of mercy, massacred.
They captured the crying of those who got taken away and now are held in inhuman conditions, the sorrows of mothers that their babies will never come back, and the desperate longing of kids who miss their dads who just can’t understand why they won’t return.
Now, as we stand here, to mark one year. 365 days, 525,600 minutes that I haven’t been able to breathe properly, and I can’t even find the words to describe the huge pain I have felt every day since.
Though I struggle to find the words, I need to remember that the Poppies will bloom again, and so must we.
As the blood of our people cries out to us from the ground, we must, just like the poppies, bloom proudly and strongly again.
This past year has proven to us that people will try to crush us time and time again, and because of that, we must stand together, upright, and thrive against all odds.
Because never again, is now.
Emily Patyuk is one of Jewish Tidewater’s Shinshinim. She is from Kiryat Ekron in Israel.