Diary of israella-sarah. birth

Diary of Israella-Sarah. Birth;Ariel Abarbanel
My name is Israella-Sarah. I was named after one of the angels who rides in the chariot, the Merkabah, across the Heavenly expanses. And also in honor of the righteous man, miracle-worker and clairvoyant Baal Shem Tov, Rebbe Yisroel. They are my heavenly patrons. Of course, there are other rabbis who were called Yisroel as well. I was born in the luxurious city of The Hague, on the 12th floor of a huge hospital from which an indescribably beautiful view opened onto the canals and little houses with orange tiled roofs. All evening and night the whole city was firing off firecrackers and fireworks. The entire sky burned with multicolored fluffy flowers and stars, and in the morning there was a dense fog and silence, peace. Papa says that when they arrange a salute on the 31st, it is because of my birthday. Everyone rejoices, is glad and celebrates that I have come into this world. Relatively quite recently, from here, from this very city, 80 thousand Jews were deported, almost all of whom were destroyed in concentration camps, in gas chambers. Papa says that to this day the spirit of violence and cruelty lives here. When you walk through the city along the sidewalk, here and there you meet bronze bricks sunk into the asphalt, into the pavement, on which names and dates are carved. The last date is often 1943, and the place is Buchenwald, Auschwitz. We walk as if through a cemetery. In the heart of Antwerp, among the ghetto, there is a memorial composition of contorted people entangled in barbed wire and just one word in large Hebrew letters: “Zachor” — “Remember.” Papa also says that we must remember this all the days of our lives.
When people ask me what my name is, I say with pride: Israella-Sarah. And no antisemite dares say anything to me, because the Blessed Lord protects me. True, behind our backs, when we walk through the city, they often shout “dirty Yids,” “dirty rats,” “Free Palestine” and the like, but even here Heavenly Father protects us.
Papa jokes that he really does look like a rat and that rats are very intelligent animals, and that if he is a big rat, then I am a little cute mouse “Peep-peep.”
Or a little rat — forever.
I really am small; I was born weighing 2260 grams and was immediately put into an incubator, a kind of greenhouse where babies “ripen.”
I was born on 01.01 at 7:13 and, as papa says, became the “new model.” I was supposed to be born on the 31st, but papa stood next to mama and read the magical book of Tehillim, the psalms of King David, and everything happened in the best possible way. Papa tells that when I was born, the nurse offered him to take me in his arms, but he was afraid — I was so tiny and fragile.
I lay in the incubator for a whole week. Mama and papa came to me and waved their hands; mama cried. And I lay there so tiny, wrinkled and red and looked at them through the glass with eyes full of happiness that I had managed to be born and come into this earthly world and meet kindred souls.
While mama was in the hospital, the merry holiday of Hanukkah was going on. Papa came and every evening when it grew dark he lit candles, adding one more each time. On my birth all eight candles were burning, illuminating everything with yellow, warm soft light and driving away the darkness.
A week passed and mama was discharged home, while I remained alone all by myself behind the plastic glass of the incubator. Papa and mama visited me and I was glad to see their happy young loving faces.
Shabbat was approaching. Papa and mama did not want to spend it without me, their little beloved girl, their eighth candle (my favorite number!), and papa miraculously obtained permission to take me home to Drijfriemstraat. This is in the center of The Hague; this is my first and real home. When they brought me home I cried very loudly. Papa massaged my tummy and ears, and mama gave me the breast full of warm magical milk, and I fell sweetly asleep.
Now mama is gone. She has died. Papa tries to do everything so that we are happy. He has a lot of love and strength, and he says he is ready to give his life for us.
On the first Shabbat of my life I listened to Kiddush and merry, joyful melodies; happiness filled this Hague apartment in which I took my first step and said my first word.
16.06.2025;St. Petersburg, Abarbanel