Mona and Caty

My little sister Caty has illuminated my entire existence since the day she was born, in 1948, the year the State of Israel was established.

We were four years apart, as I was born in 1944 in a small town in central France.

My beloved parents used a false name, which became mine, and I was baptized in the church of Argenton-sur-Creuse. I came into the world in a world of barbarity and boundless hatred. The Germans, who were beginning to retreat, massacred civilians, members of the Resistance, and Jews who had escaped the roundups of previous years on a daily basis. My parents and I survived and returned to Alsace.

This child of restored peace, my sister Caty, was born in Strasbourg.

From the very first second, I understood that she was “different” from other children because she had Down syndrome. My love for her was immediate, and I realized that I was there to protect her, without my parents having to ask me to.

We grew up together in shared joy.

All my life choices were made with her in mind. She showered me with my boundless tenderness a hundredfold. She made me empathetic to all differences, and I was never ashamed of her disability. Of course, the way others looked at me only intensified my love for her.

I grew up, then I married for love and gave birth to a beautiful little girl. But life can be extremely cruel, and I have not been spared hardship.

My daughter Laurence, who was born with cancer, died at the age of 16, after our parents, who succumbed to their grief in their fight for life. Then Laurence’s father, my beloved husband, was killed in a car accident at the age of 49.

It was my little sister Caty, who had no one left but me to care for her, who compelled me to keep going. I couldn’t abandon her and leave her alone in the world. My sister lived with a woman who had dedicated her entire life to her, showering her with attention and love. We were neighbors and very attentive to one another.

Caty was like a headlamp to me, the kind mountaineers attach to their foreheads to see where to place their feet and ensure their footing. Yes, like a lamp, a light that precisely illuminates the path ahead and dispels the darkness that envelops it, allowing me to move forward with confidence. It was Caty who kept me from sinking, from making bad decisions, from making poor life choices.

She was the wall I leaned on to stay upright.

And I think of the words she said to me one day during a walk: “Don’t think, little sister, I’m here…”

She was the most beautiful gift my parents gave me. It was then that I understood why she existed, so that I could live.

Cathy shared her radiance with me, guiding me through the steps of daily life and protecting me from fear and despair. By coming to live with me for the last seven years of her life, she helped me, through her love, to cast aside all my past heartaches and sorrows.

She made me realize that every life is worth living and that together we discovered the treasures of humanity, which enrich and help us grow. Like the lamp, I watched over it, as if my attention were constantly focused on the most precious of creatures, and it showed me the path to profound humanity. Its radiance, its joy of life, its gratitude towards me will continue to shine in my home and forever comfort me, knowing that I have honored the blessed memory of our parents.

May this house in Beersheba bring to all these young people an opening to the world, a world of kindness, knowledge, culture, and happiness, giving them the necessary tools to face life and its challenges.

I pay tribute to all those who dedicate themselves to these children and teenagers in this magnificent place where they will find the joy of living and discover the best the world has to offer and promises for a bright future.

A very special thought for our unforgettable friend, Claude Meyer, who showed me the way so that our dreams could converge…