Alumna Hannah Wexler (’15) reflects on the death of Ezra Schwartz, who was killed in the West Bank on Nov.19 during his gap year in Israel. Wexler attended summer camp with Schwartz for eight years at Camp Yavneh in New Hampshire.

Loving, caring, passionate, proud, silly and happy. If I were to describe Ezra Schwartz in just a couple of words, these are the ones I would use. He was not only loving toward his family, but toward every single person who he cared about. Ezra was the kind of kid who was deeply bothered when his friends were sad. He would stand by your side and make funny sounds, tickle you or poke you until you laughed and only then would he be satisfied. He was caring in the sense that if you needed his help, or his comfort, he was there. He wanted everyone to be able to accomplish everything they wanted and would hold your hand every step of the way. He was passionate about the things he loved. I, along with my camp friends, had the privilege of seeing him grow from a wild camper to the most wonderful counselor. We were able to watch him make homesick little boys laugh until they couldn’t breathe, win over little girls with his charm and goofiness, and do everything in his power to make their experience as memorable as his.

Ezra was proud of his friends. Never failing to appreciate what was in front of him, he would stand next to me while observing our friends, put his arm around me and say, “Isn’t she just the best?” or “Isn’t she just so beautiful?” I think that the one of the many reasons why Ezra was so loved is because he was so silly. Yes, silly is a childish word, but it is the perfect word to describe his demeanor. His silliness was the reason why he was so happy. Ezra’s goal was to be happy and didn’t care about impressing anyone or being embarrassed. When he felt like it, he would scream on the top of his lungs, singing a song he loved and didn’t care who was watching. In an ordinary conversation he would repeat my words back to me all mixed up because he wanted every moment to be a memory that was filled with laughter and smiles.

Unfortunately, now that Ezra has been taken from us, he won’t be around to make life’s ordinary moments extraordinary. Since he passed away, Jewish people all around the world have been trying to connect to his memory in an effort to give support to his family, friends, and community. However, too often than not, Ezra’s story and those of other victims of terrorism are turned into a political statement. Yes, he passed away while he was in Israel, learning about the Jewish homeland and embracing all it has to offer. However, he was not there to join the IDF or make aliyah. Ezra was in Israel to explore, to develop who he was and who he wanted to become. I understand that stories like Ezra’s serve as examples of how peace needs to be brought to Israel quickly. But, it is vital that we mourn victims of terror as the people they were while they were living, not only what they come to stand for in their deaths.

From this horrific experience, I have learned that we need to appreciate what people around us and people we love have to offer. We need to embrace their smiles and always tell them we love them, even if it seems out of context. We need to try to understand them from different perspectives. And, we need to try and appreciate the little things people do, things that might seem irrelevant, because usually they have a deeper meaning. And now, since Ezra is no longer with us, it is extremely important that we remember him for who he truly was: that silly, light-hearted boy who stole my heart with his gentle kindness and never failed to put a smile on the faces of the people he loved.