I don’t want to write about them. I don’t want to write about the two little redheaded boys and their mother, coming home to Israel in caskets today.

I don’t want to write about their father, whom Hamas forced to say he was looking forward to seeing them again, just moments before they released him from captivity days ago.

I don’t want to think about the chilly, gray, and rainy day outside, because I don’t want to acknowledge that my heart feels just as cold, just as heavy, just as gray.

I don’t want to think about the fact that we knew they were dead but didn’t want to believe it.

I am angry that the world doesn’t seem to care. That it barely notices. This is the dreadful lesson for all Jews: in the end, we have only each other.

For too long, we have lived by the phrase “never forget.” Our new phrase must be “always remember.” Always remember who we are. Always remember how much we mean to one another. Always remember that the global Jewish community is inextricably entwined.

It is true that we have allies. But today, today I feel alone with my fellow Jews.

And if you are reading this and don’t know who I’m talking about, then shame on the mainstream media. They are quick to report the number of Palestinian children killed in this war but have overlooked the murder of 37 Israeli children in a single day, one of whom was burned alive in an oven.

Do you need a history lesson, a history only 16 months old? On October 7, 2023, during an unprovoked attack by Gazan terrorists, 1200 people in Israel were murdered and 251 others were abducted to Gaza. Thirty of the hostages were children. The youngest hostages were Ariel and Kfir Bibas, ages five and nine months.

This is what started this war. There is a longer history, now many decades old. But do not be lulled into believing that the past dictated this present. This attack was unwarranted and unprecedented, aimed directly at innocent civilians. At families in their homes. At young people at a music festival.

How dare you not know?

How dare they not plaster the images of these babies’ coffins across every front page and newscast today, when they were at last returned to their homeland for burial?

That you do not know, that you are not stunned into disbelief and silence by the cruelty of this attack, by the sight of two tiny coffins, that is perhaps the greatest shame of all.

Photos of the Bibas family before Oct. 7, when all four were kidnapped from their home: Husband and wife Yarden and Shiri, children Ariel and Kfir.