When Eli lived in Kibbutz Hulata, which in the kibbutz was called "Eli Carmeli", he saw a large area, I estimate that it is about 10 meters long and 5 meters wide behind the house of Nahum and his aunt Shoshana, an area that had only weeds.
Eli, with both hands, began to pound the weeds and stone the stones.
Eli then began to prepare the soil for planting. He turned it over with a pitchfork (really hard work for such a large area), brought garbage from the barn (also carrying the garbage from the barn and then scattering it in the area - not easy at all), and arranged sprinklers.
I remember him working in concentration with a hat for many hours.
I do not know where he got flower seedlings from, because there were no nurseries then as there are today.
Slowly the seedlings grew and the area became a flowering garden, a spectacular sight in its beauty.
All the people in the kibbutz came to see this beauty. And every Friday, he picked a bouquet and put it in a jar at the Carmeli family's house.
And Friday, brings me to the following memory:
Every Friday, Shoshana, his aunt, would bake a cake. The favorite cake of us all was a cheesecake.
Every Friday, at five o'clock in the afternoon, we would gather in the little house of Nahum and Shoshana to drink a cup of coffee, or tea, to talk, and — the highlight, to eat a cake.
Cakes were not available then and there were about two or three types that Shoshana baked. We sat together around the table and each was given a slice of cake.
Then, when we were done and everyone moved to a different corner of the house, Eli and I would stay with the cake ... look at each other and at each other, look at the cake and conclude that we must, must, "straighten" its edge.
2 teaspoons and once to me once I, straighten the edge of the cake.
It was clear that it would end when there was no crumb left of the cake, but always, when it happened, we made ourselves surprised, we just wanted to "straighten".
With Eli I "converse" freely, imagining what he would say, how he would laugh at me or smile his sly smile somewhat, a moment before "keep me to the point", as they say.
Oh, how much I miss him, a lot.
The perpetual smile we met at Eli and Debbie, a smile of kindness, that smile illuminates like sunshine my memories.
Smile and love are the strongest memory of both.
June and I hug you with love, always.
Ofra (Carmeli) Weil