The piano: Kiryat Shmona's witness to decades of sacrifice and resilience

In the wreckage of a missile-struck apartment in Kiryat Shmona, where walls have crumbled and the roof opens to the sky, a piano remains standing. Dust-covered and scratched, it seems out of place amidst the silence and destruction. But for Avital, the piano was never just an instrument – it was the beating heart of her family’s journey, a witness to decades of sacrifice and resilience.

The piano was born in Tashkent, 1956, when Avital’s parents, a struggling Soviet family, decided their children deserved music. They saved for years, pooling what little they had to buy the instrument. It stood as a quiet defiance against the scarcity of their lives, offering their children a chance to dream beyond their small apartment walls.

When the family prepared to immigrate to Israel in 1990, the piano presented an impossible challenge. Soviet law forbade the export of goods like pianos, but leaving it behind felt unthinkable. Desperate, they bribed officials with the equivalent of 13 months’ salary. Smuggled across borders, the piano landed in Israel alongside them, settling first in cramped apartments before finding its final home with Avital, who had moved with her husband to Kiryat Shmona.For years, the piano filled her home with music. Children learned to play its worn keys; guests gathered around it during meals. But as the conflict with Lebanon escalated, missile strikes turned Kiryat Shmona into a battleground. When evacuations became inevitable, Avital’s family fled south to Netanya. The piano, too large to move in haste, was left behind.

The piano

Months later, a missile hit their building, reducing much of it to rubble. Avital returned to her former home to face what remained. Navigating through fallen beams and shattered glass, she found the apartment stripped to its bones. Yet in the center of the destruction stood the piano. Its lacquered surface was scuffed and its corners chipped, but its form was miraculously intact.

Avital approached it hesitantly, brushing dust from its lid. Her hands trembled as she pressed the keys. The sound was fragile but alive, a melody that rose and filled the broken room. It carried decades of history in its notes – her parents’ sacrifices, her family’s journey across borders, and the music that had once filled this space.

In that moment, the piano reclaimed the room, filling it with something beyond destruction. For Avital, it wasn’t just survival – it was a reminder of everything they had fought for and everything that remained. 

Excerpt from the writer’s forthcoming book, October 7th: Bearing Witness.