From the moment I heard Eitan's story I've been thinking about him, dreaming about him, crying and begging the universe to send him home. Today, after 52 days in captivity, his mother got to hold him in her arms. Eitan is the oldest, he is smart and sensitive and anxious and gifted and brilliant. I cannot imagine his mother watching helplessly as he was driven on a motorcycle alone into Gaza as she was forced to grab her other two children and run. This war has been filled with so much heartbreak and devastation. When I got verbal confirmation today from Efrat his aunt (and my new friend) that he was back, I burst into hysterics. I felt as though she was talking about my own son. All of the hostage returns have been emotional, but this one brought me to my knees. There is a god.