Shmulik Yisrael received the devastating news of the murder of his close friend, Netanel (Nati) Shakron, on the eve of Yom Kippur, shortly before the holy day began. In an instant, 30 years of friendship came flooding back - from their days at the yeshiva in Ma'alot, through their joint service in the Paratroopers and their shlichut (educational mission) in Chicago, to family trips and their most recent meeting just a month ago.
"Nati was a man of truth, a man of kindness. He had a huge heart. Everyone loved him."
"I had just finished the Mincha prayer on the eve of Yom Kippur," Yisrael recalls in an interview with Arutz Sheva - Israel National News, describing the moment he learned of his friend's death. "Motti, a close friend who was with us on shlichut in Chicago, came and gave me the most terrible news. It was very difficult to enter Yom Kippur like that."
Just before the Kol Nidrei prayer, Yisrael found himself thinking of the words, "Light is sown for the righteous, and joy for the upright in heart." To him, they perfectly described the man who had been his close friend for three decades.
"That's Nati. Everyone loved him, everyone knew him. He was easy to love. A man of truth, a man of kindness."
Their friendship began when they were young, at the yeshiva in Ma'alot, and remained with them through nearly every major crossroads in their lives. They enlisted together in the Paratroopers in March 1997, completed basic training in Snur and advanced training together, and later served in Hebron.
"We were really a pair," Yisrael says. "We went through long periods together."
The years they shared turned their friendship into a deep bond - the kind where not much needs to be explained. Even during their long years as bachelors, they were there for one another, discussing and seeking advice about their most personal decisions.
"There was a lot of sharing - whether to go out or not, who was right for me and who wasn't. You know me best, so tell me what you think about her."
When Yisrael got married, Shakron stood beside him as a witness under the chuppah. A year later, the roles were reversed, and Yisrael served as a witness at his friend's wedding.
In between, the two also went on an educational shlichut to Chicago. There, Yisrael says, he saw up close his friend's quiet magic - a man who did not need to make noise to become the center around which people gathered.
"You touched so many people there. People loved you; people loved being around you. You were a man of truth and larger than life. You had a huge heart. You were very tall, smiling, shy, but you knew what needed to be done. You weren't afraid of anyone, and you did what had to be done. You always brought a sense of calm and peace to those around you."
The two traveled together throughout the United States and later shared an unforgettable journey through South America. After Nati and Meirav got married and went traveling, Shmulik and his wife, Moriah, joined them. For about a month and a half, the two couples trekked through Peru and Bolivia, celebrating Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur far from home.
Even there, thousands of miles from Israel, Nati was still Nati.
"All the travelers sat with us because Nati was there. Everyone gathered around Nati," Yisrael recalls.
One of his strongest memories from that trip took place on the night after Yom Kippur. At the Chabad house where they were staying, Shakron noticed that the Holy Ark was missing a parochet, the curtain covering the ark.
He didn't just notice it.
"Nati said to me, 'Let's donate the parochet.' We went and bought one and donated it together - the Yisrael family and the Shakron family - to the Chabad house."
For Yisrael, that small story says a great deal about his friend: He saw what was missing - and did something about it. Without fanfare and without waiting for someone else to act.
The years passed, the families grew, but the friendship remained. Yisrael's children, Bnaya and Yosef, also knew Nati well. The families would vacation in the north together every year, in Kfar Blum, and spend time together.
"Just a month ago, we were still together," he says painfully.
Of all the things he learned from his friend over 30 years, Yisrael singles out one quality in particular: honoring one's parents.
"His gentleness and patience toward his parents were something special," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm saying this and I have chills. I see his parents in front of my eyes. He loved them so much. He cared for them so deeply."
But there is another lesson he wants to take from his friend's life - not to waste time.
"Nati didn't waste a moment. Every time, he had something to do - either he was working, with his family, or with his children. He knew what to do. He lived life, a full life, and made the most of it."
Thirty years of friendship cannot be captured in a few minutes of a eulogy, or even in a handful of memories. They live on in their shared military service, their shlichut overseas, the conversations of two young friends about the lives that lay ahead of them, the weddings where they stood beside one another, the treks through South America, the parochet they donated after Yom Kippur, and the family trips with children that had already become a tradition.
And now, on the eve of Yom Kippur, Shmulik Yisrael was forced to say goodbye to the friend who had accompanied him almost through his entire adult life.
What remains for him is the simple sentence that, in his eyes, sums up Nati:
"A man of truth, a man of kindness, with a huge heart. He lived life - a full life."