For 10 days we waited. Held on to a sliver. While his family members were buried and mourned around the world. While thousands of others suffered and survived. Last night we got news about Matan’s murder.
Why should you care?
You don’t know him.
He isn’t from your hometown or your alma mater.
He doesn’t live near you, he isn’t friends with your kids, he doesn’t play for your favorite team … and he never will.
But, maybe …
He could have been a rock star who writes the song you will dance to at your daughter’s wedding.
But now, we will never know.
He could have been the researcher who cures your father’s cancer. But now, we will never know.
He could have been the first resident of Mars, paving the way for your grandchildren and the entire human race.
But now, we will never know.
He could have been a noble statesman who brokers peace in the Middle East. But now, we will never know.
He could have been a soldier, a police officer, a surgeon, a fireman, or a paramedic who one day saves your life.
But now, we will never know.
We will never know because he was taken. Brutally. Just a boy who did nothing wrong.
He wasn’t taken only from his family and community. He – and his potential – was taken from you.
It’s not about politics. Or religion. Or history. It’s not about who he was to me.
That day in the desert, who he was – and could have been – was taken from you. From us all.
Lital Rosenberg
Stevenson Ranch
Editor’s note: Members of the Rosenberg family graciously agreed to be interviewed during an obviously painful time. Their story about Matan appeared in Wednesday’s edition of The Signal and can be found at tinyurl.com/22m7bc77.
