
Crowds are participating today (Friday) in the Shabbat reception at the "Kikar Hatupim", in a joint call for the return of the kidnapped and killed Ran Gueili, whose body is being held in the Gaza Strip.
Shira Guili, Ran Guili's sister, spoke at the Shabbat reception in Hatufim Square.
"Good afternoon, my name is Shira and I am Rani Gueili's little sister. Thank you for being here with us. Rani is the last hostage left in Gaza but he is the first, he is always the first. He is the first to help, the first to assist, the first to save. Rani is the first to put on the blue uniform and run into hell. Rani is the unsung hero, Rani is the first for all of us, the leader, the charismatic, the strong, the calming, the brave. Rani is truly number one.
Rani is also my first, he is my best friend, my big brother. The first one I told a secret to, the first one I consulted with, cried with, laughed with. Rani will always remain the first in my heart and I ask that, at least until he returns, he will remain the first in your hearts and on your lips.
This is the first Shabbat that Rani has been left alone back there, that Rani is still in enemy hands. 254 abductees have been returned from Gaza and our Rani is still there. On a Shabbat that tells the story of Yaakov's return home after twenty years, I beg for the return of our Rani after more than two years. There is not much in common between this week's Torah portion and our lives in the Guili family, except for the closeness in which my brothers and I grew up. To my great joy, there is nothing in common here. But I have no doubt that our lives are similar to the lives of many of those standing here before me, regardless of background, place of residence, origin, faith or political opinion.
There is nothing like sibling love, there is nothing like the little moments of connection at home and each of you knows what brotherly or sisterly love is. The laughter, the fights, the shared loves. Turning heads at the same time, together when someone calls us by our family name, laughing at the same thing and at the same things, understanding from a look in the eyes across the Shabbat table a world full of feelings and thoughts. This is who sang for me.
In our house, Shabbats always started with a huge meal, everyone comes for an evening full of goodies. Grandma cooks and everyone helps. Then we go out to dance, have fun, and be happy. Shabbat is a combination of the holiness of the day and Rani's hobbies. I still long to hear the sounds of Rani's motorcycle. I turn around every time a motorcycle passes by, every time a dirt bike rider rides in the hills near the house.
Rani also played not only on my nerves but also on the guitar, in the last two years the guitars have been waiting, the music is a bit like that. Rani was the first to tell us to get back to music, get back to life and we are trying but the struggle is mandatory. Rani also doesn't stop fighting. Rani wants to go home.
We did everything we could in the past two years, we went to countless meetings, discussions, and consultations, we interviewed, we shouted, we asked, we begged, and we prayed. Faith in you, in our people, in the army, in the police, in good people, along with faith, keeps us afloat. Faith gives us air. We wrote a Torah scroll in Rani's name, a book that will help Rani find his way home, that will help us find the way to continue.
Just before this first Shabbat, and I so hope the last Shabbat that our Rani is still there, I would like to once again strengthen the demand not to continue with Phase 2 until Rani is home. To force Hamas to return Rani to the country he loved so much.
I ask that you continue to be by our side and that when you sit down at the Shabbat table tonight, raise a glass to him, when you open the book in the synagogue, send a prayer for him, when you open the door, or go for a run, play the guitar or laugh with your brothers, think for even a moment about my Rani, Omri's, my father's and mother's, about all of our Rani. Until the last one, including. May there be a Shabbat of peace.".