Tributes to victims include Australian flags, religious symbols and handwritten cards
The sea of flowers outside the Bondi Pavilion, which commemorates the 15 people who died last Sunday, couldn’t be more Australian in its diversity.
A group of Dame Edna Everage’s much-loved red gladioli curls at the gaze. Proteas from South Africa, where many Australian Jews fled for a better life, look sturdy in the heat, along with crocheted red Anzac Day poppies.
Many people visited the temple every day, including Neville Gafen of Dover Heights.
“Isn’t it a moment to stop and think? Why did this happen? Why do bad things happen to good people? A lot of thoughts go through your mind,” he said.
“Why would someone take the life of a 10-year-old? We can’t answer those questions because we don’t know what drove people to do what that father and son did last Sunday.”
Flowers for people visiting the memorial, as well as for those who died, come from everywhere and from all walks of life: from the most expensive florists to the flowers with gum leaves thrown over them from the local gas station.
Sprinkled among the flowers are wet Australian flags and wet plush kangaroo and koala toys symbolizing the song Waltzing Matilda, which gave its name to 10-year-old Matilda.
Bees, in honor of Matilda’s middle name, are also everywhere: on balloons, on toys, some wet and sad. It is surrounded by religious symbols; Candles and menorahs representing Hanukkah, the festival of lights that ends Monday.
A hand-drawn card reminded her: “Precious Matilda bee, forever in our hearts.”
A group representing immigrants from India’s Kerala, Nevodaya, Australia had traveled from Gosford, Penrith and Parramatta on Saturday to pay their respects to Bondi and say their hearts were with the victims.
Former Toongabbie band member Anand Antony said they moved to Australia for a better life.
“This is very discouraging,” he said. “Australia is known as a peaceful country.”
Rabbi Yossi Friedman of Chabad of Bondi Synagogue promised to read the names of those who died every hour next to the memorial flowers.
It was raining when he finished work on Saturday. It was hard to tell where the rain ended and the tears began.
The rabbi said he did not know when the flowers would be removed, but that they would remain there until the end, reading the names.
Seven days after last weekend’s senseless attack, the scent of yellowing chrysanthemums and dying daisies, some as old as a week old, now permeates the air.
A group of blue hydrangeas hanging in the heat and rain of the past few days is accompanied by a note: “The attack is proof that our government has allowed a crack in our identity to grow.”
On Saturday, even some of the mental health nurses and chaplains around the large pool of dead and dying flowers, dotted with fresh spots, were worn out. One staff member said the messages children left for Matilda were the hardest.
A large bunch of yellow lilies contained an apology to the Jewish people of Sydney for “the atrocities that occurred last Sunday”.
Other cards offered help. “Email me if you need help stopping antisemitism,” one read. Another simply said: “We’re with you.”
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