Facing an unimaginable ordeal, Sigi Cohen’s strength and unwavering emunah have recently become a source of inspiration for the community of Ramat Beit Shemesh. A former resident of the neighborhood and the mother of 27-year-old Elya, Sigi captivated the women with her heartfelt reflections as the mother of a hostage.
Sigi warmly describes Elya, her eldest child and only son, named after Eliyahu HaNavi, as a vibrant, compassionate individual with a zest for life. At just 17, Elya made a pivotal decision, telling his mother he no longer wished to live a frum lifestyle. Though the news was difficult for Sigi, she chose to respect his choice and asked that he respect the family’s choices during his visits home. Sigi and Elya each kept their word, and their relationship remained close and harmonious. During this transformative period, Elya discovered the world of nature parties, a passion that led him to attend the Nova Festival on that fateful day.
On the morning of Simchas Torah, Sigi and her guests heard the wail of sirens but assumed it was nothing out of the ordinary. They continued with their plans and headed to shul. At around 10 a.m., two policemen entered the shul, their expressions heavy with urgency. “A war has broken out,” they announced, instructing everyone to return home immediately.
At around 11 a.m., Sigi received an unexpected call from the sister of Ziv, Elya’s girlfriend – a rare and alarming occurrence. She answered with trepidation and learned that Elya was reportedly “okay” and in a hospital. A photo followed as evidence, but no one knew where Ziv was. Worried, Sigi turned to T’hilim. As the hours passed, her phone buzzed incessantly with messages from Elya’s friends, all frantically searching for him. Then, a chilling message arrived: “Is it true Elya was taken to Gaza?”
This is how Sigi learned that her son may have been kidnapped. Sigi didn’t understand what she was hearing. Why would someone think he was in Gaza? The friend explained that he had seen a photo on Telegram of Elya in a hospital in Gaza and sent it to Sigi. It was the same photo she had seen earlier, only this time it gave a broader view. She could see that someone was helping him, but a sign in Arabic said something about prisoners. Overwhelmed and in shock, Sigi turned again to her T’hilim for strength.
At about 6 pm, she called Ziv, who answered the phone in a hysterical state. She was in Soroka Hospital in the south. The social worker took the phone from Ziv and told Sigi not to question her as she was suffering from trauma. Sigi called hospitals, police stations, kupot cholim (health funds), and army bases, but nobody knew anything about Elya.
At about midnight, Ziv called. Having calmed down somewhat, she told Sigi what had happened that day. She, Elya, and her nephew, and his girlfriend arrived at the Nova Festival at about 4 a.m. They were dancing and enjoying until around 6:30, when rockets were fired from Gaza. They didn’t know what to do.
The security guards told everyone to go home. The four of them started driving and reached the famous point on the road where drivers had to choose whether to turn left in the direction of Tel Aviv, or right in the direction of the Gaza Envelope settlements. They were warned that the highway to Tel Aviv was swarming with terrorists, so they turned right onto Route 232, the road where many who tried to escape the massacre were killed.
Friends who had left earlier told them to leave their car and to try to escape some other way. They left the car and hid in a migunit (protective shelter) near Kibbutz Re’im. The migunit, designed to shelter ten people, was crammed with 27 terrified individuals, including Hersh Goldberg-Polin and Aner Shapiro. Aner, an off-duty soldier and the last to enter, attempted to calm the group. Despite confirming that hundreds of terrorists had infiltrated Israel, he reassured them with hopeful words, saying the IDF would soon arrive, and everything would be okay.
As they hid in the hot migunit that smelled of fire and smoke, terrorists pulled up outside, blasting Arabic music. A Bedouin who had been hiding with them went outside. He told the Arabs that he was a Muslim and the people in the migunit were his relatives. There was nobody of interest to them in there. The terrorists killed him immediately.
Then they threw grenades into the migunit, trying to kill those who were hiding. Aner caught seven of those grenades and threw them back outside. The eighth grenade exploded in his hand, killing him. Hersh Goldberg-Polin, who also reportedly was throwing back grenades, lost his hand from a grenade explosion and was kidnapped and later murdered in captivity.
The terrorists killed many inside the migunit, including Ziv’s nephew and his girlfriend. Ziv survived because a fallen body shielded her from further attacks. When the terrorists came to check if anyone was still alive, they thought she, too, was dead. Elya screamed, as he was wounded in the leg. Someone pulled him out of the body pile, threw him in a van, and drove away.
While the events at the migunit reveal the depths of human courage and tragedy, Sigi’s response highlights the strength of her emunah. Sigi reflected on the fateful day, recounting how four people she dearly loved stood shoulder to shoulder in the overcrowded migunit. Each met his/her own fate: Two were murdered, Ziv survived, and Elya was wounded and abducted to Gaza. Of the 27 hiding, seven survived.
Despite her anguish, Sigi maintains her emunah, understanding that everything comes from Hashem. She refuses to ask, “Why did this tragedy happen to me?” Instead, she reflects, “What is its purpose? What role am I meant to play?” Sigi talked about the division that existed before October 7 “Hashem wants achdus,” she says. He wants us to see each other as brothers. It doesn’t matter where we are from or what are our political views. We are all Jews. When we are united, we can win. She pointed out that the soldiers of the IDF are proof that this is true. Soldiers from differing backgrounds unite in their goal to protect am Yisrael and Eretz Yisrael. They fight together and are successful.
Sigi said that Elya was always a maamin, a believer. Even when he was no longer frum, he continued to put on t’filin. She hopes that he has remained strong in this way.
A Chabad chasid suggested that Ziv check her mezuzos and Elya’s t’filin. She looked everywhere but couldn’t find his t’filin. Sigi speculated that the t’filin might be in the car they had taken to the Nova. Ziv dismissed the idea, explaining that Elya had a deep reverence for his t’filin and would never have placed them in a car that was driven on Shabbos.
One day, a policeman from Lahav 433, known as the “Israeli FBI,” brought Ziv the keys from the car they drove to the Nova. The key to their safe was on the key chain, as well. When Ziv opened the safe, she found Elya’s t’filin. Sigi becomes emotional every time she tells this story, touched by how much Elya cared for his t’filin.
Sigi asked everyone to daven for Eliyahu ben Sigalit. She looks forward to the G’ulah that will, b’ezras Hashem, come with achdus.
Please continue to daven for the wounded, the release of the hostages, and for the success and safe return of all of our soldiers and security personnel.
Suzie Steinberg, (nee Schapiro), CSW, is a native of Kew Gardens Hills and resident of Ramat Beit Shemesh who publishes articles regularly in various newspapers and magazines about life in general, and about life in Israel in particular. Her recently published children’s book titled Hashem is Always With Me can be purchased in local Judaica stores as well as online. Suzie can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. and would love to hear from you.