Every night until I can no longer remember to do so, I will think of them as I say their names. I will remind myself of what they were doing when this terrible tragedy struck them. Their memory, for me at least, will serve as a reminder to follow in their footsteps, to learn more about my religion and in doing so, more about my own soul. Their memory will remind me of how important it is for Israel to work for peace, but never to negotiate out of fear.
These students died not because they were in a classroom, not because they were Israeli, and not because they were living in Jerusalem. They died because in their hearts they believed in something so strongly that even the most evil of acts could not for a second make them falter. These students died because they were Jews, and every night we should remember them, just as we would eight of our own brothers.
They are Yochai Lipschitz, 18, of Jerusalem; Yonatan Yitzchak Eldar, 16, of Shiloh; Yonadav Chaim Hirschfeld, 19, of Kochav Hashahar; Neriah Cohen, 15, of Jerusalem; Roey Roth, 18, of Elkana; Segev Pniel Avihayil, 15, of Neveh Daniel; Avraham David Moses, 16, of Efrat; and Maharata Trunoch, 26, of Ashdod.