Between each chapter of his story, Eitan Katz lifted his guitar and began to play. His voice joined the live orchestra in songs that felt like tefillos. The strings swelled. The crowd joined in. Together they carried what words alone could not.
We moved between story and song again and again, each time building higher. Five movements in total, each one deeper, more raw, more filled with yearning. And then, in the final moment, he revealed that this year, at Shas-A-Thon, he merited to learn with his son — the child they had once prayed for.
