Two years have passed since the dark morning of October 7, but for Natan Kenig, time has barely moved.

While the country struggled to recover and life slowly returned to normal, this 27-year ZAKA veteran entered a different kind of battle - one for his livelihood, his stability, and his ability to simply keep going.

When the first sirens rang out that Simchat Torah morning, Natan didn't hesitate. As he had done for nearly three decades, he ran straight into danger. Together with his team, he crawled between burning vehicles and shattered homes near Kibbutz Nahal Oz, collecting what remained of the victims and ensuring no family would be left without answers, without a grave.

At one point, as gunfire erupted around him, he did something he still struggles to explain. He lifted a simple wooden cutting board - the same one he used daily in the kitchen of his restaurant - and held it over his chest as if it could stop a bullet.

That surreal moment captures everything about the private war he has been fighting ever since.

Stand With Natan - Support His Recovery Now

For years, Natan was known throughout the region as "the chef of the area" - a man who could pull off full-scale events and weddings even after grueling ZAKA shifts. His restaurant wasn't just a business. It was a community anchor that supported local farmers, sustained dozens of families through employment and contracts, and brought people together in celebration.

But after October 7, everything changed.

Natan has been unable to cross the threshold of his own kitchen. The place that once felt like a second home - where he created joy through food, where he built a thriving business with his own hands - has become a source of overwhelming anxiety. Every knife triggers memories. Every smell drags him back. Every ingredient becomes a reminder of the bodies he recovered.

His beloved restaurant collapsed. Revenue disappeared overnight. Debts piled into the hundreds of thousands of shekels. The future he built so carefully seemed to crumble in an instant.

Suppliers who had trusted him for years now wait for payment. Local farmers who depended on his orders face their own struggles. Employees who worked alongside him wonder when normalcy will return.

And yet, there is one thing Natan refuses to do: abandon the people who believed in him.

Even while drowning financially, even while undergoing treatment for severe post-traumatic stress, he insists on paying his suppliers first - sometimes before paying himself, sometimes at the expense of his own family's needs.

"People believed in me," he says quietly. "I can't break that trust."

Help Natan Honor His Commitments - Donate Today

This is the paradox of Natan's life right now: A man of absolute principle facing impossible choices. He could declare bankruptcy and walk away from his obligations. Many would understand. Most would forgive him. The law would protect him.

But Natan won't do it.

"I can't abandon them," he explains, "just like I didn't abandon the victims on October 7."

Like many ZAKA volunteers, Natan does not call himself a hero. But anyone who knows his story sees it differently. He fought day and night for others - recovering hundreds of victims under fire, ensuring no family was left without closure, working against the clock while terrorists still roamed.

Now he is forced to fight for himself.

The trauma. The financial collapse. The shattered professional dream. All of it blends into a long, exhausting struggle with no clear end in sight.

And still, every time a ZAKA call comes in, he goes. He shows up. He continues to give.

Two years after October 7, while most of Israel has returned to routine, Natan remains on the front lines of an invisible war. The "invisible wounded" they call volunteers like him - people whose injuries don't show in photographs, whose pain doesn't make headlines, whose sacrifice is measured not in visible scars but in shattered livelihoods and sleepless nights.

His restaurant sits dormant. His debts grow. His suppliers wait. But his commitment to honor never wavers.

This is where we come in.

Natan spent 27 years ensuring dignity for victims and closure for families. He held a cutting board as an imagined shield and went back into danger again and again. He built a business that sustained dozens of families and supported local farmers.

Now he needs the community he served to stand with him.

Give Natan What He Gave Israel - Support Now

Every donation does three critical things:

First, it pays real people - the suppliers who extended credit in good faith, the farmers who provided ingredients, the employees who worked loyally. These are not faceless corporations but families and small businesses who now struggle because they believed in Natan.

Second, it restores dignity to a man who chose honor over convenience, who refuses to save himself by abandoning others, who continues to serve even while drowning.

Third, it sends a message to every ZAKA volunteer, every first responder, every "invisible wounded" hero: Israel does not forget those who serve.

Your contribution creates immediate impact:

$180: Pays one supplier, prevents one family's hardship, clears one debt

$500: Major creditor settled, significant relief for waiting families

$1,000: Multiple debts cleared, breathing room for recovery

$2,500: Substantial progress toward reopening, hope restored

$5,000+: Game-changing support that clears entire debt categories

The cutting board Natan held over his chest couldn't stop bullets. But your support can stop his fall.

Two years later, the cameras have left. The headlines have moved on. The world has largely forgotten October 7.

But Natan is still there, still fighting, still refusing to give up on the people who trusted him.

The man who saved hundreds cannot save himself. But we can save him.

Donate Now - Clear Natan's Debts, Restore His Future

Every donation goes directly to clearing debts and helping Natan rebuild. Zero administrative fees. Zero delays. One hundred percent immediate impact for a man who gave Israel everything and now asks only for the chance to keep his promises.

He still answers every ZAKA call. Still serves. Still gives.

Now it's our turn to answer his call.

P.S. If you donated before: Thank you. Your support helped, but the battle continues. Two years later, the debts remain. The suppliers still wait. Natan still fights. Please consider giving again - even $100 makes a real difference to a real person waiting for payment.