On March 6, a Palestinian terrorist murdered eight yeshiva students and wounded another dozen, mostly teenagers.

Once again, the world saw what happens when Palestinians – in this case an affluent, employed, affianced 25-year-old – are raised on a steady diet of genocidal anti-Semitism. Once again, too many in the world acted abominably, with some Palestinians throwing candy in celebration as Israel-bashers defended the indefensible. But once again, Israeli citizens, many Jews, and good people everywhere, rose to the occasion, demonstrating ennobling, everyday heroism.

Nadav Samuels, whose father Noah grew up in Toronto, was shot repeatedly in the Mercaz HaRav Yeshiva library. Nadav just celebrated his 15nth birthday in Hadassah’s Ein Kerem Hospital with his arms and legs heavily bandaged.

“It’s very hard to describe the horror of it. For the first week I couldn’t even talk about what I had seen,” his grandmother Sandi Samuels of mid-Toronto said with a shudder weeks later, still trying to reconcile her grandson’s look of “sweet adolescence” and the ravages of the violence she saw when she and her husband Laurie arrived from Canada.

I had the privilege of visiting Nadav 11 days after the attack. Having endured numerous operations, he was still bedridden. Nevertheless, he greeted me, as well as Rabbi Adam Scheier of Montreal and Rabbi Emanuel Forman of Jerusalem, with a warm, shy, braces-filled smile – and one request. His father was at work and his mother, Hadassah, wasn’t adept at laying tfillin. Would one of the rabbis help?

As Rabbi Scheier wrapped the leather straps around the teen’s limp arm, Nadav closed his eyes. He prayed so intensely, so sincerely, that my eyes filled with tears. If Hollywood produced a film about the atrocity, the religious victim would lose his faith. The innocent teenager would become an angry rebel.

Instead, having survived an unimaginable trauma, this remarkable teen drew the tremendous strength he needed from his untarnished devotion to God and Judaism.

After Nadav finished, dinner arrived. With a glint in his eye, Nadav showed he was a normal kid – well on his way to recovery – by grousing about the hospital food. He preferred the goodies that both his grandmothers kept delivering. Nadav’s mother, Hadassah, said, “Fortunately, he was only hurt from the shoulders down.” His sharp mind and warm personality remain intact.

Demonstrating that the Samuels grace and optimism is multi-generational, Nadav’s grandparents, Laurie and Sandi, reported with deep gratitude that the family has been embraced by a “chain of love” that extends around the world.

“We’ve had so many calls and offers of support,” Sandi said. “Religious people offer to make a Mishabereich [a prayer for recovery]. Non-religious people say they will hold a good thought for Nadav in their hearts.”

In Toronto, old school chums, fellow congregants and casual acquaintances have reached out warmly. In Israel, the local vendor at the market gets emotional every time he tells another customer that Sandi is the savtah, the grandma, of a kid from the pigua, the attack.

“Look, it’s true that Israel has lots of tzuris,” Laurie observed. “But balancing out all the trouble is one amazing thing: the Israeli people.”

On March 28, for the first time in three weeks, Nadav stood up – aided by the angels of Hadassah, the Jewish and Arab doctors, and nurses and orderlies who, Sandi noted with a sigh, are far too expert at healing such injuries.

Nadav’s mother, Hadassah, reported that one visitor, struck by his recovery from being in critical condition that first weekend, noted that together, Nadav’s Hebrew initials spell nes, miracle. Considering Nadav’s eight fallen friends, whom the terrorist shot repeatedly at point blank range, his nightmarish March truly has been miraculous.

As Nadav, the other victims, and the grieving families struggle step by step to heal physically and emotionally, our offers of support must not fade as quickly as the headlines do – the families will need love and more material assistance months from now, too. And we should all marvel at the miracle that, despite living among neighbors who raise their children with such murderous hatred, Israelis such as Noah and Hadassah Samuels imbue their children with faith, love, gratitude, humility and just enough humour to bear whatever burdens life imposes.

May they all retain their strength, optimism and grace. They will need it.