Shlomit Krigman was born in the middle of a storm and murdered almost 24 years later, preparing for a snow that never fell, her mother, Na’ama, said as she stood by her daughter’s body in Jerusalem’s Har Hamenuhot cemetery on Tuesday.
The young woman was fatally stabbed by two Palestinian terrorists Monday evening, just one week short of her birthday, as she walked past the local grocery store in the Beit Horon settlement, northwest of Givat Ze’ev.
She was on her way to buy a warm coat for the snowstorm that was forecast to hit the region.
Doctors at Shaare Zedek Medical center fought for close to 12 hours to save Shlomit’s life.
“You entered the world on a snowy day and you left this world because you feared the oncoming storm. But the snow, as if it was shying away from us, never arrived,” said Na’ama.
“We are burying you in Jerusalem, as you requested, in one of our conversations about the situation. Your smile, your soul, your zest for life, will stay with us always. Rest in peace.”
The hundreds of mourners could not fit into the cemetery’s small stone sanctuary. They huddled in the plaza outside and spilled onto the concrete road. The sea of umbrellas they held up against the cold rain made for an impromptu awning as their tears mixed with the raindrops.
Shlomit’s grandmother Ilana, who lives in Beit Horon, recalled how just that morning she and her husband ate the most normal of breakfasts with their granddaughter.
“I waited for you to return to a hot bowl of soup that you so loved,” Ilana said. Shlomit had been living with her grandparents this past year, as she worked in a national service position nearby in Jerusalem.
In addition, she volunteered as a counselor for the Bnei Akiva youth group in Beit Horon.
Her parents’ house was in the Jordan Valley community of Shadmot Mehola where she had grown up, which was too far to commute.
“She filled every corner of the house,” her grandmother said.
During their time together she spoke often of her parents and her boyfriend, Noam.
He had suggested that she get a coat, because she lacked a proper one.
“I told her what kind of coat to get, with such detail that as she stood in the doorway I added that I might as well have offered to sew it for her,” said Ilana as she broke into tears.
“It should be one with long sleeves and a hood, so you won’t be cold. It shouldn’t be too heavy, so you can wear it every day.
“Part of my heart will be buried today; we so loved you,” Ilana said.
Krigman was buried in a plot next to Dafna Meir, the mother of six who was stabbed to death in her home in Otniel by a Palestinian terrorist last week.
The second victim of the Beit Horon attack, a 58-year old resident of the settlement who was moderately wounded, remained hospitalized at Shaare Zedek Medical Center.
Her boyfriend, Noam, said the two met at Ariel University, where Shlomit received a bachelors of arts in industrial design.
“I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you.”
After much pursuit on his part, she agreed with what he had known all along, that the two of them were meant to be together.
“Before I met Shlomit, I did not know how to be happy or to smile,” he said. “With you, I discovered a happiness I had never known.”
Maayan, a friend of Shlomit’s, described how initially she had been optimistic that Shlomit would recover and wake up with a smile of disbelief at everyone’s concern.
Then there was the slow realization that her situation was dire.
“You fought as you slept. We tried to send you messages of encouragement – you can do it, you can recover.”
As the hours passed, Shlomit continued to deteriorate.
“I prayed so hard. It’s been years since I did that,” said Maayan.
The thoughts churned in her brain about what she could do to change her friend’s fate.
“It was clear to me that you fought because you are a fighter, and because there were so many people that you loved and for whom you only wanted things to be good,” she said.
“At 5 a.m. I still hoped that the doctor would say he had been confused and that in fact that you were alive. How could it be that we will never meet again and exchange stories of what was happening in our lives? “I am still hoping that this is a nightmare from which I will wake up tomorrow. It can’t be true.
Shula, come to me this Shabbat after lunch. I won’t sleep, I promise, just come,” Maayan said.