Hayley’s Comet: the light of her legacy shines bright

ILANIT CHERNICK

It still feels surreal to write those words three weeks later.

In 2010, I walked into a wedding in Jerusalem, not knowing many people. I made my way to my assigned table, and I didn’t know a soul at it. With a massive smile, Hayley greeted me and introduced herself.

“I’m Hayley, come sit next to me. What’s your name?”

“I’m Ilanit,” I said a little shyly.

“It’s really nice to meet you – where you from? Joburg?”

We began talking. She was from Cape Town, had made aliyah in 2008 after studying an education degree, and was “now living in Jerusalem”.

I remember how she made me feel comfortable so quickly. We talked for some time before she pulled me towards the dance floor as the bride and groom made their way into the hall.

For what felt like ages, we jived on the dance floor. I remember her pulling me into the circle as we danced around the bride. I remember us dancing wildly together like best friends even though we had met maybe an hour before.

That was Hayley, she made you feel close to her, even if you didn’t know her at all.

Towards the end of the wedding, I pulled her into a selfie. It’s one of those rare moments where I’m thankful that as a teenager, I had the ridiculous need to post everything online.

I’ve looked at that picture hundreds of times in the past few weeks which have seemed like a never-ending nightmare filled with tears, memories, and laughter.

Just a day before – one, single day, 24 hours – we had been together. Our shul group was playing the fool as we usually did during the kiddush (blessing), eating cheesecake and ice-cream, joking, talking about the week that had been, giving each other advice, and of course imitating Australians who sound like pirates. It was a magical Shabbat.

Hayley’s warmth and kindness knew no bounds. She had time for everyone. And if she didn’t, she made the time.

Hayley’s family meant everything to her. She was deeply involved in helping her family wherever she could.

She was selfless, and her mom said that over the shiva (mourning) period, they were exposed to how welcoming and comfortable Hayley had made everyone feel.

She had a special bond with her parents in Cape Town, Pauline and Alan, brother Josh, sisters Belinda and Ariella, and nieces. She was a devoted wife to her husband Eli, and was adored by her uncle, Aubrey Katzef, who visited her in Jerusalem two weeks before the accident.

There were two things Hayley spoke about endlessly, her husband Eli and their adventures together, and her students.

She taught English at a high school in Kiryat Arba near Hebron. Hayley’s family said she was drawn to education and teaching because she wanted to incorporate the qualities of some of the teachers she had had during her school career. She didn’t have the easiest time socially during her school years – something that we bonded over – yet she set out to make a difference, coming into her own later in life.

She really loved her students, and would always go the extra mile for them.

Hayley’s mom told me how Hayley would send encouraging messages to her students. The principal at another school heard about this, and told her teachers to do the same.

Another memory from the past few months that stands out is walking down Emek Refaim Street in Jerusalem one evening, when we encountered a woman who looked lost. Hayley stopped our conversation and asked if she could help.

The woman said she was a little unsure of what direction she needed to be going in. Hayley pulled out her cell phone, looked up the address the woman was seeking, and gave her directions. Her friends say this was something she did often.

When people revealed the tough stuff to her, her support was unwavering. She had a way of always seeing the silver lining or even better, the funnier side of a situation, and could have you in never-ending stitches of laughter.

But when it came down to the perfect piece of advice, Hayley would always say, “Just keep going, it’ll work itself out in the end.”

Hayley always knew what to say, and when to say it. More importantly, she never judged. She was probably the only person I know who didn’t have a “judgemental bone” in her body. She always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. She was open to listening, and seeing all points of views. Not many people can do that. But she could – always.

Because of her fierce love for teaching and her students, the classmates and staff of the She’arim College of Jewish Studies for Women have started a scholarship fund in Hayley’s memory to help another student continue to learn.

The Emek Learning Center, the shul Hayley loved and davened at most Shabbats, is also establishing a children’s corner for kids who attend services, which will be named Hayley’s Corner.

Several initiatives are also being organised in Cape Town including a shiur in Constantia, which will be held in Hayley’s merit.

As Israeli heroine Hannah Senesh wrote, “There are stars whose radiance is visible on Earth though they have long been extinct. There are people whose brilliance continues to light the world even though they are no longer among the living. These lights are particularly bright when the night is dark. They light the way for humankind.”