Today, 29 December, would have been my great grandmother Lily Ebert’s 101st birthday. It also happens to be the fourth night of Chanukah—a festival that celebrates resilience, faith, and the triumph of light over darkness. The intersection of these two events feels profoundly fitting. To me, and to so many who knew and loved her, Lily—our “Safta,” the Hebrew word for grandmother—was a living embodiment of that light.
Safta passed away on October 9, 2024, but her light continues to shine brightly through the lessons she taught us and the impact she had on the world.
For the Jewish people, the past 14 months have been perhaps the darkest times since the Holocaust. Across Europe and the West, Jews are left questioning whether we can truly feel at home here. It is a painful reality, and one that deeply saddened Safta in her final year.
She lived to see the promise of “never again” falter, as old hatreds resurfaced. It was a bitter reminder of how far we still have to go. Yet, Safta’s life was a testament to the power of hope and the enduring strength of the human spirit. From the depths of Auschwitz’s greatest darkness, she built a life filled with meaning, love, and light.
Lily with the King
She raised a large and devoted family, and even in her 101st year, she achieved so much. She celebrated her centenary surrounded by friends and family, receiving kind messages from around the world, including from the King and the Prime Minister. On Holocaust Memorial Day, she appeared live on national television to share her testimony and privately met with the Prime Minister at 10 Downing Street to discuss Holocaust education. But perhaps her greatest joy last year was attending the Brit Milah of her great-great-grandson born in April 2024—the first of a fifth generation to descend from her.
Whenever Safta spoke to students in schools, they would ask, “How did you survive Auschwitz?” Her answer was simple yet profound: hope and belief. She held onto the faith that better times would come—that even in the darkest moments, there would be a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. That hope sustained her, and it can sustain us too. But Safta taught us that light does not appear on its own. It doesn’t come from nowhere. We must be the light.
HET ambassadors with Natasha Kaplinsky, Lily Ebert and Simon Phillips.
The story of Chanukah reminds us of this as well. It is not just about a miraculous oil lamp that burned for eight days. It is about the Jewish people refusing to surrender to darkness, standing up against oppression, and rededicating themselves to their faith. Safta’s life embodied that same spirit. She refused to let the darkness of the Holocaust define her. Instead, she became a light for millions—a beacon of hope and resilience.
Tonight, as I light the menorah, I will think of Safta on what would have been her birthday. I will remember her hope, her belief, and her unwavering light. Her legacy inspires me, and I hope it inspires you too.
Let us honour her memory by carrying that light forward—together.
