My brother was kidnapped.

My parents, Miriam and Hanan Michaeli, emigrated from Iran in 1950 with two children, Aaron and Ovadiah. My mother was pregnant and gave birth here in 1951 to Shlomo. In '54, another son was born, in the summer, in a maternity ward in Kfar Saba. At that time they lived at an immigrant housing center in the city. She gave birth to a healthy child, who looked wonderful, and everything was alright. Afterward, they asked her, “How many children do you have at home?” and she replied, “three boys.” After a few hours the nurse said to her: “Listen, the child has died.” My mother cried a lot in the hospital, and the nurse said, “It's not a big deal, you have another three children at home, make more.”

My parents were new and naive immigrants, and just accepted it. She told my father, “The child died, but how?” They were stunned but they accepted it. After they returned home, my father said that he noticed the doctor was pointing at them and whispering to another couple. They did not understand – How could it be that their son had died? They were not given details about the burial place or a death certificate – absolutely nothing.

Rina Binyamini Michaeli