Trauma doesn't vanish on a schedule. Three years after the October 7 attacks tore through Kibbutz Be'eri, eleven-year-old Emily Hand is only now taking the monumental step of sleeping in her own room, entirely on her own.
For 49 days, Emily was held hostage by Hamas in Gaza after being snatched from her home at just eight years old. Her ninth birthday passed behind locked doors in captivity. When she was finally freed, the psychological scars ran deep. She couldn't sleep without dragging her mattress right up to her father Thomas Hand’s bed. She lived in constant, paralyzing fear that someone would break in and take her again.
Recovery for child survivors of extreme terror is painfully slow. It requires patience, routine, and a safe environment that takes years to rebuild.
The Long Road from Captivity to Independence
Thomas Hand has watched his daughter fight for every inch of her normal childhood back. In a recent interview, he shared that Emily only stopped pulling her mattress next to his bed within the last month or so. She no longer calls him frantically on her mobile phone to come rescue her from a friend's house after dark.
Independence has returned in small increments. She is riding horses again, an activity that psychologists say gives young survivors a vital sense of control rather than helplessness. She still dreams of becoming a veterinarian, pouring her energy into animals rather than the dark memories of her abduction. Her loyal dog Johnsey, who survived the ordeal and even made the journey back with her in an Israeli military vehicle, still sleeps at the foot of her bed every single night.
Children processing catastrophic trauma often regress. They cling to physical safety nets. When Emily was first reunited with her father, Thomas feared she would feel betrayed that he hadn't broken through the gunmen to save her. Instead, she ran straight into his arms. That instinctual bond saved her spirit, but the nightmares lingered.
Confronting the Ruins of Be'eri
The physical rebuilding of communities destroyed on October 7 is proving just as difficult as the psychological healing. Emily and her father, along with other surviving residents of Kibbutz Be'eri, have been living in temporary prefabricated housing on a safe kibbutz further from the border.
Now, families are facing the agonizing choice of returning. On the third anniversary of the attacks, the community is gathering for an emotional reunion back at Be'eri.
Thomas admits he is nervous. The original kindergarten, playgrounds, and homes remain scarred or entirely destroyed. Out of the close-knit community, 102 people were murdered on that single day, and 34 were dragged into captivity. Walking back into those streets forces survivors to confront the ghosts of friends and neighbors they lost.
Yet, resilience wins out. Surprise visits from fellow survivors, like former hostage Noa Argamani sitting on the porch to laugh and chat with Emily, prove that shared survival creates an unbreakable bond. These moments of normalcy are therapeutic. They remind the children that they are survivors, not just victims of history.
Healing is not linear. Emily's ability to sleep alone tonight is a massive victory, earned through years of courage, familial love, and the stubborn refusal to let terror win.
