Shay’s last words: ‘Don’t stop living, I love you.’
Shay was the youngest of five sons, brother to Chen, Or, Ran and Tal, and the son of Zehava and Rafael. He was born and raised in Holon, a child of light, giving and love for people and country. “Shay was the youngest, the baby of the family,” says his father, Rafael Arvas. “We named him ‘Shay’ because when he was born, the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. The letters Shin-Yod are the initials of ‘Shema Yisrael.’” His mother, Zehava, adds with shining eyes: “He was a good kid, a modest kid. He loved people, loved the country. He was the one who united everyone in the family, wherever there was a fight, he was the one who brought peace.”
A child of pure goodness
Shay grew into a smiling teenager, an outstanding student with a huge heart. In high school, he studied in the biomedical track and graduated with honors. Beyond his academic dedication, his parents say that in his free time he volunteered with Holocaust survivors, painted their homes, and “baked them cakes,” his mother recalls, adding that “he also volunteered with children with disabilities and with Magen David Adom.”
1 / 11
Even as a child, when he saw someone, not necessarily elderly, walking down the street with bags, he was the first to help, doing everything with love. “With a smile and endless giving,” his mother says.
With the same quiet inner strength, Shay worked during high school so as not to burden his parents. “Even while studying, he worked so he wouldn’t have to ask us,” Zehava says. His father adds how much Shay valued everything in his life: “He was very embarrassed to ask for money. He would stand next to me and say, ‘Dad, only if you have, only if you can give me.’”
A path of meaning
Before his enlistment in the IDF, Shay chose to join the Acharai (Hebrew for "Follow Me") movement, which prepares youth for meaningful service. In the army, he stood out with the same good spirit. Alongside the discipline and responsibility required of a Givati Brigade fighter, he did not give up on his small dream, to become a pastry chef. “He baked cakes for the whole team,” his mother says. “At night, his commander would tell him, ‘Shay, go to sleep, rest.’ But no,” she adds, “he had to make sure they had something sweet on Friday, that they would eat and enjoy.”
Even on short leaves home, he did not rest. A month and a half before he fell, the Arvas family married off their fourth son, Tal. “He only came for two days,” Zehava recalls, “and he ran with me to organize everything because it was the day before Rosh Hashanah, he made sure nothing was missing. He never paid attention to his tiredness. That’s how he was with everything, he never knew how to say no.”
On October 7, Shay was at home. He called his parents, who were on vacation in Eilat, and told them he was being called up. “He went north to get his weapon, and then they went down south,” his mother says, adding: “They fought in Kibbutz Kfar Aza. They saved 102 civilians.”
During the war, The family rallied to support the fighters. “We had a WhatsApp operations room with 420 parents,” Zehava shares. “Whatever they needed: underwear, towels, socks, my husband would drive to the staging areas, even while rockets were falling and deliver.”
A week before he fell, Shay insisted that his mother join as well. “I went with my sons and we prepared a meal for hundreds of soldiers.” His brother Tal, a barber by profession, set up a station that day in the staging area and gave Shay and all his friends haircuts, Shay’s last haircut. “Until my last day, I will remember it, that last haircut,” his father says, recalling the small nod Shay made that signaled to him that this would be the last time.
Those final words
In a tragic and inexplicable coincidence, on October 7, 2020, three years before the war, Shay changed his WhatsApp status and wrote: “I am afraid of three words; the first is ‘name,’ and the other two are ‘was killed.’”
Shay and his comrades fought without pause. On October 27, they entered an operation in the Gaza Strip and fought for five days, and on October 31 came the day “they knocked on 11 doors.” “That is the day they came to tell us our children would not return,” his father says in pain. “At nine in the morning they knocked on my door,” Zehava recalls. “Rafi and I were at home, and for an hour I didn’t open it. I screamed. I said there was a mistake.”
Shortly before the ground maneuver, Shay wrote a will. In it, he left words that captured who he was:
“I want you to know how much I miss you. I love you. And honestly, I was happy to do what I do, to save people, to protect the country, because it’s something I always wanted, something that has always been a part of me since I was a child. And now I had the opportunity to do it and to give of myself to this country as well. I know it will be hard, but I want you to keep going as you are. Keep living your lives.”
Since then, Rafael has kept Shay’s dog tag, found crushed and mixed with the blood of his heroic friends. “It is the only keepsake I have left of him, and I carry it with me,” he says quietly.
Zehava says that since the loss, she draws strength from her family and from Shay’s memory. “Shay is greatly missed. I am composed for the sake of the children, my husband and the grandchildren. Even though I am strong, I am in therapy with a psychologist and together we wrote a song about Shay.” In the song, his mother wrote:
“I still think you’ll walk through the door. The heart cannot contain it. Watch over us from above, by day and by night, longing.”
Shay’s dream of opening a patisserie will not be forgotten. His family plans to establish a community pastry shop in his name, which will also include activities for Holocaust survivors and the elderly. “We go to schools to give our youth perspective on life, to give them roots, the roots Shay wanted to continue,” his parents say.
Staff Sgt. Shay Arvas of the Givati Brigade fell on Oct. 31, 2023.
May his memory be a blessing.
Staff Sergeant
Shay Arvas, OBM