Mother’s Heartfelt Plea Amid Ongoing Hostage Crisis

This week, I witnessed a profound moment as families across the U.S. celebrated Mother’s Day. Edan Alexander finally reunited with his parents in Gaza after being gone for 584 days. Watching them embrace, tears of joy streaming down their faces, it brought me some happiness. Still, I can’t help but feel a deeper ache in my heart. When will I get to hold my two sons again?

For the past 18 months, I’ve fought for their lives. Every single day, I’m not just Sylvia; I’ve become a warrior. My mother came to Israel from Argentina with my father Louis in 1986, dreaming of building a life here. Now, decades later, I never imagined I’d be begging for help to bring my sons home from captivity.

I want to share about my son not as a hostage but as the vibrant man he is. David, who turned 35 on May 21—coincidentally the second birthday of another POW—admires parenting. He’s an electrical engineer and has a playful spirit. He and his wife, Sharon, are parents to beautiful twin daughters, Yuri and Emma, who are just four years old. Then there’s my younger son, Ariel (27), the one I often call “mom’s boy.” He’s the baby of the family, a software tester with a love for music and astronomy. Just before all this chaos, he returned from a trip across South America with his girlfriend, Abel Yehoud.

Every night, I dream the same dream. I see my boys beside my hospital bed. I run to them, hold them tight, absorbing their scent, kissing them for everything they’ve endured. There was a time when I dreamt of holding David so vividly that I woke up hopeful he was there. But the reality I face each day is crushing.

On October 6, 2023, our family gathered at our home in Kibbutz Nir Oz for a holiday celebration with 20 people. By the next morning, an awful reality struck: eight of us were taken by Hamas. This included David, Sharon, their daughters, Ariel, his girlfriend, Abel, and Sharon’s sister, Daniela, along with her five-year-old daughter.

I’ll never forget the texts. Ariel texted, “We’re in a horror film.” And David wrote, “They’re breaking into our home.” Both my sons were taken along with the others.

In November 2023, David’s wife and daughters were part of the first hostage deal. But my sons were still left behind. For two long months, we didn’t know where Ariel was; he was eventually confirmed to be in Gaza. The uncertainty was unbearable.

Finally, 482 days later, Abel was released in a hostage exchange in February. When I met her, I was so eager to hear about Ariel. But she only managed to hold him for three hours before he was moved to another location, and she never saw him again. In that instant, I felt both comfort and terror—he was alive then, but where is he now?

David’s daughters celebrated their fourth birthdays without their father or uncle. They cry every night, asking when the “bad man” will bring their dad home. It’s utterly heartbreaking to explain this fear to a child. I feel torn—caring for those who’ve returned while still fighting for those who haven’t.

We are deeply grateful to President Donald Trump, Middle Eastern envoy Steve Witkoff, and everyone who has worked tirelessly to secure Abel’s release in the last hostage exchange. Your efforts brought her back to us, and Edan Alexander to his family. However, the hopes of all families with loved ones still in Gaza are resting on such endeavors. I hope this recent release marks the start of a broader push to bring all hostages home. Please continue your crucial work urgently.

Seeing Edan reunited with his family reminded me that miracles can happen. Yet, I’m a mother waiting for my son, along with 56 other families in similar situations. Each hostage has a family desperate to hold them once more. Those who are alive deserve a return to their loved ones, and those who have perished deserve dignity in burial.

Bringing hostages home transcends politics or military strategy—it’s about morals. There’s time to combat Hamas, but the lives of Ariel, David, and all hostages cannot afford to wait. Every day that passes diminishes their chances of survival.

I refuse to give up hope. At the end of this difficult journey, I believe there’s a light where I’ll find them. But time is running out. Edan’s mother can hold her son today. When will I be able to hug mine?

As a mother who came to Israel to forge a future for my children, I won’t cease fighting for their safe return. I will be their voice until they can speak for themselves again.

My plea is straightforward: help bring my son and the remaining hostages home. Let’s rebuild our family together.