Hanaleh (Hana) Kreitzman (née Gutsdiner) was born in Poland on March 27, 1935. A year later she immigrated to Israel with her parents, who built their home in a small shack in Tel Aviv.
Hanaleh learned to read at a very young age and was captivated by stories, holding deep respect for the written word. A love of books and storytelling runs like a thread through her life.
At age 15, Hanaleh left her parents’ home to become a pioneer and join a young kibbutz in the western Negev. Kibbutz Be’eri became her lifelong home. Despite many hardships in the early years and later – mainly due to proximity to Gaza and distance from most of her family in central Israel – she never considered leaving.
For most of her life she worked in the education of children and youth. She developed special methods based on a personal approach, sensitivity, compassion, positive reinforcement, role modeling – and above all, stories. Every story became, in her hands, a legend, a book, a captivating tale, sprinkled with humor and moral insight. Through storytelling she broke down barriers and reached everyone – young and old alike. Those children grew up to become parents and grandparents, whose own children and grandchildren continued to grow up on those same stories – told by the same storyteller.
Together with her husband, Tziki, she built a model family: four children, twelve grandchildren, and ten great‑grandchildren – all raised on the same values: “Doing important things is good and worthy, but what truly matters are the people around you,” and “Friendship isn’t something you’re admitted into – it’s a way of life.”
Hanaleh was a fighter at heart – a lioness with the compassion of a gazelle. In the final battle of her life, after being critically wounded by terrorists’ bullets on October 7, 2023 – rescued from her home in the dead of night after around 20 hours in the safe room – she fought as only she knew how: mustering strength from unseen reserves and clinging to life as if awaiting something. That “something” arrived about two weeks later, in the form of a tenth great‑grandchild, born in the very same hospital – two floors below her room.
When the baby was brought to her bedside, while she was unconscious, sedated, and ventilated – tears suddenly welled in her eyes and her heart began to pound. Then, for the first and only time in her life, she let go, released her hold on life, and departed this world.