The memory of walking on the ashes of Kibbutz Be’eri feels so distinct. As a journalist, I had to witness the desecration Hamas bestowed on the world when ZAKA, Israel’s search and rescue organization, was still collecting the scraps of flesh from victims. Yet the burning sensation in my heart in the early days after the bloodiest massacre in Israel’s history is waning. Not because I don’t feel for every family who lost their loved ones and their homes. Not because I can’t feel pain. Not