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me, on the whole family, and on our friends.

The worst part of it all was feeling so helpless. We wanted to help you, to help look for you, to do something, but there was nothing we could do. Dad called friends with contacts in Bolivia. They even got in touch with the Mossad. The Israeli police commissioner personally called both Interpol and the Bolivian police.

I considered flying to La Paz to make sure the search parties kept looking and perhaps join them myself, but Dad was afraid of losing another son.

The more time passed, the more difficult it became for Mom and Dad. He lost hope, and she also began to have doubts. I believed that you were still alive, but I could imagine what kind of shape you must be in. Dad's friends said that it would be impossible for anyone to find you by searching the area, that you yourself would have to make your way back to civilisation. It was almost Hanukkah, and all we could do was pray for a miracle.

The miracle happened on Monday. We got the good news on the second day of candle lighting. It was the twenty-first of December. The Israeli embassy in La Paz called at twelve thirty at night to tell us that you had been found.