My daughter spent her ninth birthday in a Hamas cell – I can only hope she’s picked for the hostage release

On the morning of 7 October, my daughter Emily was kidnapped by Hamas terrorists. She was eight years old when she was taken, and turned nine just a few days ago. Down in the tunnels of Gaza, with no way to track the passage of time, she probably didn’t even know it was her birthday.

News that 50 Hamas hostages might soon be released as part of a four-day truce has given me a glimmer of hope – but also a new sickness in the depths of my stomach. What if Emily is not among those that her assailants choose to send home?

That morning our kibbutz was invaded by around 400 terrorists, I saw the community we had built together burn and whole families who had made their homes there slaughtered in front of me. I didn’t see Emily get taken, but somebody informed me that she and a friend she was sleeping over with, as well as the girl’s mother, were led away by Hamas and driven away in a flatbed pick-up truck.

Under heavy gunfire, I was escorted off the kibbutz with several other survivors and taken to relative safety by the army, with no idea of where Emily was. We were ferried off to a hotel somewhere in the Dead Sea region. The grim irony of that fact has not been lost on me.

It’s a story that hurts to tell, but it must be told. I’ll tell it a thousand times if it helps to bring my daughter home safely.

I know every parent says it, but Emily really is the most loving, caring daughter, sister and friend. She hasn’t had an easy life – her mother died of breast cancer when she was just a baby – but you wouldn’t think that to talk to her. She loves to sing, to dance, to perform. She can do cartwheels and the splits – I think she’s destined to be an acrobat when she grows up.

It’s a small thing, but all I can think about is the way she soothes herself to sleep by rubbing my ear with her thumb and forefinger. She’d do the same to her brother, her sister, even the dog – then just curl up and drift away. It’s funny what you remember, in times like these.

Her brother and sister – Natali, 26, and Aiden, 29 – have been so strong through all of this. I worried about Natali at first, that she wouldn’t handle the pressure, but she’s conducted herself with intelligence and grace. Aiden has been incredibly strong, handling tough media questions like a pro. When something like this happens to you, people expect you to be a politician, a diplomat and a million other things, all while you’re going through the worst period of your life. They’ve held up better than they ever should have had to.

The news that Hamas has agreed to release more than 50 hostages has given us some hope that Emily might be among them. Her age and her gender will hopefully give her priority when the exchanges begin, but we can’t be certain. Until I see Emily’s blue eyes looking into my own, I won’t allow myself to believe anything. We’ll be carrying on this fight until we know for sure.

In the meantime, I’m deeply concerned about her current condition and how this will affect her long-term. Her mental and physical health is a constant question mark, and even if we get her back tomorrow, we’ll be dealing with the damage that has been done for the rest of our lives.

The fact is that there are dozens of other families like ours, waiting with bated breath for news that could be cause for relief or devastation. To them, I would say: try to keep a level head, even if it seems impossible. You’re going to hear so much conflicting information and, if you listen to all of it, you’re going to be an emotional wreck.

They say it’s the hope that really gets you, and that’s true. For now, all we can do is wait, and hope that one day soon we’ll be able to give Emily that birthday celebration that was denied to her.