Readout of speech by Hersh Goldberg-Polin's parents at DNC in Chicago

(JNS) — At this moment, 109 treasured human beings are being held hostage by Hamas in Gaza. They are Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists.

They are from 23 different countries. The youngest hostage is a 1-year-old, red-headed baby boy, and the oldest is an 86-year-old mustachioed grandpa.

Among the hostages are eight American citizens. One of those Americans is our only son. His name is Hersh. He’s 23 years old, and like Vice President Kamala Harris, Hersh was born in Oakland, California.

Hersh is a happy-go-lucky, laid-back, good-humored, respectful and curious person. He is a civilian. He loves soccer, is wild about music and music festivals, and he has been obsessed with geography and travel since he was a little boy. His bedroom overflows with atlases, globes, maps and National Geographic magazines.

On Oct. 7, Hersh and his best friend, Honor, went to a music festival in the south of Israel. It was advertised as celebrating peace, love and unity. They also went to celebrate Hersch’s 23rd birthday. As rockets began to fall, Hersh, Honor and 27 other young festivalgoers took refuge in a 5-foot by 8-foot bomb shelter. Terrorists began to throw grenades into the shelter.

Honor stood in the doorway and repelled seven of those grenades before the eighth one killed him. All together at the Nova music festival, 367 young music lovers were killed. This was just one of the many attacks on neighborhoods and communities in southern Israel on that terrible day. In total, 1,200 were killed, including 45 Americans.

Hersh’s left forearm—his dominant arm—was blown off before he was loaded onto a pick-up truck and stolen from his life, and me, and Jon, into Gaza. And that was 320 days ago.

Since then, we live on another planet. Anyone who is a parent, or has had a parent, can try to imagine the anguish and misery that Jon and I, and all the hostage families, are enduring.

Rachel and I are comforted to be back in our sweet home, Chicago. We were both born and raised here, and our families still live here.

This is a political convention. But needing our cherished son and all the hostages home is not a political issue. It is a humanitarian issue.

The families of the American eight hostages meet every few weeks in Washington. We’re heartened that both Democratic and Republican leaders demonstrate their bipartisan support for our hostages being released.

We’ve met with President Biden and Vice President Harris numerous times at the White House. They’re both working tirelessly for a hostage and ceasefire deal that will bring our precious children, mothers, fathers, spouses, grandparents and grandchildren home and will stop the despair in Gaza.

We are all deeply grateful to them. We’re also profoundly thankful to you—the millions of people in the United States and all over the world who have been sending love, support and strength to the hostage families. You’ve kept us breathing in a world without air.

There is a surplus of agony on all sides of the tragic conflict in the Middle East. In a competition of pain, there are no winners.

In our Jewish tradition, we say: Kol adam olam umlo’o; every person is an entire universe. We must save all these universes.

In an inflamed Middle East, we know the one thing that can most immediately release pressure and bring calm to the entire region: a deal that brings this diverse group of 109 hostages home and ends the suffering of the innocent civilians in Gaza.

The time is now.

Hersh, Hersh, if you can hear us, we love you! Stay strong. Survive.

Bring them home!