A LIttle of This and a Little of That (Regarding War)

A few weeks ago, I renewed my CPR and first aid license. It was with the same teacher and fellow students as in my EMT course . It was nice to be together again, but WOW, what a change in what we were being taught. We had renewed already once since our course ended and it was a regular redo in that we all had to  demonstrate CPR and then we went in small groups to speak with the teacher privately and try to figure out what was going on with the "patient" she gave us in a scenario (me for the win that our "patient" was possibly having a stroke, although me for the lose that I temporarily forgot the Hebrew word "shavatz" and said "stroke"). Now, though: whole new game. Renewing first aid in a time of war equals reviewing mass-casualty first aid and spending a LOT of time on tourniquets (in fact, who knew there is new technology in tourniquets?! Well there is, and it's pretty neat. Four years ago, we learned a tourniquet-tying technique that involves using a pen to tighten the tourniquet on the patient. Now we saw a new type that includes a plastic oblong cylinder that the person can tighten on themselves until help can reach them. Soldiers on the front lines evidently get these in the medical kit they carry with them. Please Gd, may they never need to use them, since tourniquet use basically means you've decided to lose your limb rather than your life).

Our family has also joined a weekly rally for an hour Saturday night to support the hostages and their families. It is, of course, "preaching to the converted", as no one here is going to pull down hostage posters (what is wrong with people?!?!), or be anything less than supportive of such a rally, but it is a way for our family to spiritually support the hostages and, as we say in Judaism, "help carry the burden". We have joined a small group that meets at the kikar (traffic cirlce/rotary) at a major intersection. There are "Bring Them Home Now" signs and Israeli flags and, personally, I say a lot of tehillim. 

The signs say "Bring Them Home Now". In the bottom photo, I am with my friend Sharon.

Still lots of cooking and baking for soldiers. I did something different this week and baked cookies for the *wives* of soldiers. There are eight families in our neighborhood where a husband has been called up (LOTS more where a son has been called up). 

The labels on the cookies say, "Thank you for being a hero and 'holding down the fort'.  Given with tremendous respect and appreciation for the work of both you and your husband". 

I've also started helping out a young friend whose husband got called up at the beginning of the war. She's home with a 2.5 year-old and an 8 month old and I went over the other night to help her put the kids to bed. I said it was the cutest war effort ever! Looking forward to going again tomorrow night. 

Lastly, I started back in ulpan (intensive Hebrew classes) again. In October, I signed up with the government to be a volunteer nurse at a Jerusalem-area hospital if needed during the war. And then, after hitting "submit" on my form, I panicked about the rather dismal state of my Hebrew language skills. The government gives immigrants who have been here less than 10 years one public ulpan (like the one I took at the local community center when we first made aliyah) and one private ulpan, like the one I'm taking now, which meets twice a week for 3 hours on Zoom. The class is very international--of the four students (class maximum), one is from Russia (as is the teacher), one from Uruguay, one from Spain and then me ;), and we live all over the country. Two members live in the South (Be'er Sheva and Ashkelon) and we had a brief interruption in class tonight as one of the women took an unscheduled break due to an incoming missile siren :(

Guest Post: Trip Up North

 My friend, Michael, spoke so movingly about his trip up north to bring food to soldiers that I asked him to write a guest post to share with you. Thank you, Michael!!

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ONE DAY ON THE BORDER OF LEBANON

By Michael Yosef

One minute he is dancing with the Torah on Shabbas Simchas Torah, October 7, 2023. Not

engaged in deep learning. Not reading from the Torah. Holding it, dancing with it, singing with

it. Just like last year and the year before; just like we have done for the many centuries before

of our people holding the Torah close… as the Torah holds us close.

For some the dance stopped. The call came. And reserve soldiers left the shul. They were

being called up. We knew something was going on for them to need to leave on Shabbas on

Shminei Atzeret on Simchas Torah. But, none of us knew or could imagine the extent of what

happened. We figured more missiles. We had no idea that over 1,200 Jews had been murdered

and over 240 had been stolen from their homes, their land, their lives.

Those of us who stayed in shul, the majority, continued to dance. We read the beginning of the

Torah, the creation of the world… at the same time as the destruction of many Jews’ worlds

had come upon them. We had no idea what was going on. Would we have continued to be

able to dance on Simchas Torah had we known? Would it have been appropriate to continue

dancing had we known? I don’t know.

Babies, Holocaust survivors, mothers, teens, fathers, men, women, old and young murdered

over the course of a short time that Shabbas morning. Souls ripped from their bodies; their

journeys on this earth abruptly aborted by the barbaric anger, hate, and blame of a people who

would rather project their own communal self-abhorrence onto others rather than use their

resources to build a good life for themselves.

Whether you are in the United States, Europe, Israel, or elsewhere, how do you process this

information? “Largest Massacre of Jews since the Holocaust”. Shock, sadness, anger, grief,

Hashem, davening, confusion, action. ACTION?

Hundreds of thousands of soldiers and reservists made their way to the southern border. The

Prime Minister and the government began to strategize. Soldiers also sent to the northern

borders with Lebanon and Syria to reinforce to prevent and invasion from the North.

Soon after, the country began to mobilize. My friend wrote: “My son is in this unit on the

Lebanese border, but they don’t have enough bullet-proof jackets and helmets. We are raising x

dollars.” Mass fundraising. Mass mobilization of equipment, often from citizens helping troops.

Food sent to the fronts. The government might not have been immediately ready to provide all

the logistics for the unprecedented call up the reserves. But the people of Israel were ready,

and we didn’t even know it. Restaurants closed down voluntarily to make food for the soldiers.

Citizens became de facto command centers for volunteer mobilization.

What could I do? I went with a friend to the Old City, special permission to drive into the Kotel

Plaza to pick up food that a yeshiva had prepared. I took some minutes to davven at the Kotel.

Food is now packed in the car, and we are on our way up north. I didn’t want to miss a special

weekly chavruta (Torah learning with a friend) that I already had scheduled, so I brought my

computer and did a video call; computer and Gemara in front of me; friend on the screen.

Learning, while my other friend drove. The chavruta was good, and now we are half way to our

destination. After a few hours of driving, we are a few kilometers from the northern border

with Lebanon, right on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, and there is a line of traffic. This is

not 405 freeway in Los Angeles or Manhattan in rush hour. This is a small street almost at tip of

the country. It must be a security situation. It is the first time since October 7 that I have not

been sleeping or connected to the news of the moment. I got lost in the chavruta in the

pleasant drive with my friend. I said we should like online to see if we can get a better since of

what is happening.

We found it. Just moments before, the northern border had become the most active it had

been since the start of the war. Missiles flying towards Kiryat Shmone. Infiltration alerts for this

town and that town. I got on my computers maps to see where these towns were. They were

not in the exact place where we were, but they were 20 minutes away, which felt far enough

away at that time to feel “safe” continuing our journey to deliver food and support the soldiers

up north. But, we were still stuck in this line. I could see some police lights ahead. We figured

this line is connected to what we were reading online. We see a solider approach the car in

front of us and then finally approaching us. He said there is a security issue and that they are

not even allowing ambulances in. We were just minutes from our destination but could go no

further. We asked how long? He said it could be an hour or an hour and half. He didn’t know

and said we could wait in the traffic line if wanted to. We turned around and went to a close by

gas station. My friend called his contact back in the old city to report our status. We then called

the contact at the base. One of the contacts was also in the traffic line and said it was easing up.

We got back in the car, drove back north and the line was gone. From where the line had been

our destination was less than a minute away.

We arrived. We felt privileged to be on this ad hoc base, which was really an environmental

field school where the army reserves had set up camp. We delivered the food, and the guys

were so thankful. They are risking their lives for us, really for the whole Jewish world; I would

even say for Western civilization. We? We took some hours out of our work day. They were

thanking us. They were thanking us? It seemed ludicrous. As if they were giving us a billion

dollars, and we were given them 25 cents. And yet, they gratitude was genuine. They were

touched that we drove from far away to being this to them. The food was much appreciated by

them; for me, it was an excuse to send them the love and support of our nation, of all of us who

were not fighting; to let them know we support them, we are davening for them, we are

learning for them. One soldier showed us pictures of the engagement party he had just had the

field school the week before, week one after the war. His fiancé is the granddaughter of a Rosh

yeshiva. She came to the base, and they made a beautiful engagement party. I got to see the

pictures. I got to see his excitement, and we had a small moment of celebration of life. Another

soldier wanted to tell us that he is a tour guide, and that he wanted to take us on a tour when

the war ends. We got his number. We took pictures. We davened Maariv. And, then they got

ready. They were going on a mission. As they were preparing for their mission, getting suited

up, we got back into our comfortable car and moved onto the next base.

The first base was a Hilton compared to the second one. The second one was a dirt lot where

they had set up a bunch of tents. These soldiers greeted us, asking do you want coffee, seltzer,

something to drink. Beautiful Jewish neshamas. We engaged in deep conversation and again

tried to convey that the Jewish world and much of the Western world is behind them,

supporting them. It’s one thing to have a deep philosophical conversation about Light and

Darkness over the Shabbas table or in one’s youth in the later hours of the night on a college

campus. It’s another thing when the solder in front of you is on the front lines of fighting for the

Light against perpetrators of darkness. Yet, we waxed philosophical together. They knew they

were on the front line, not just Israel’s front line, but THE front line of what we are doing here

on Earth as a people as a species, to bring more good into the world. This group of soldiers

were actually a logistics group. Their purpose is to bring food and supplies to the soldiers that

are really on the front line, living in bushes right on the border with Lebanon; ready for any

moment they are needed to protect from infiltration or invasion. They are guarding the lives of

the rest of us who can go home and eat, spend time with family, work, learn. They had not

showered for two weeks and only got supplies once a day from this group. We are not able to

visit the group right on the border, but we brought food and support that hopefully got to them

also.

On the way home, there were some security check points. We stopped at those and gave them

food, got out of the car, talked with them. There was an ineffable feeling that I got from each

of these groups of soldiers. The invisible guards that normally protect us from seeing each

other’s deepest humanity seemed to be on sabbatical. It felt a bit like how I imagine it might be

when Moshiach comes. A sweetness, a place of connection, mutual appreciation, togetherness.

Even elation. Then we went to visit a special place in Meron where Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai is

buried. We davened by his kever. And then we went home. The whole experience reinforced

that we were already home with our people in Israel.

We did one small thing while the soldiers continue to fight and protect, with Hashem’s help,

every day. The soldiers have their mission. Each of us also has our mission at this time. May

Hashem bless us all to have the moral clarity and courage to stand up, to speak, to donate, to

put ourselves on the line to create a better future today.

In Memory.....

 I have no words. Our 21 year-old neighbor, across the street:

I have no words, only tears.

https://www.israelnationalnews.com/news/380590

Community support as the family left for the funeral

Wednesday update

Cousin Shmulie arrived Friday morning for a (pre-planned) visit with his son Coby, who is here learning in a gap year yeshiva.  It was SO GREAT having them both here for a few (much too few) days. 

I have requested a "guest blog post" so that Shmulie can share his thoughts on what it's like to come to Israel now, but, hey, the guy just took a bunch of time off of work, so he might be too swamped. Shmulie: you've got the mic if you want it.

Shabbos lunch we hosted a family from Ashdod, home of our favorite beach and now getting a LOT of incoming missiles. Here's a map so you can see why....

Our city continues to host a LOT of displaced families from the South and North, some on a long-term basis, and some, like our lunch guests, just taking a weekend away from the very frequent sirens back at home. The family was staying in the basement apartment of our good friends (set up through a "Housing for Displaced Families" local WhatsApp group; they didn't know each other). The family was terrific--parents who came here from Ukraine as children and their really fun kids, ages 6, 3 and 1. And SO proud of us: we spoke about 80% Hebrew during the meal ;). That's (embarrassingly enough) a first for us--our guests are always friends or neighbors who are native English speakers. (Amusing point about this family is that the dad spent five years learning in yeshiva in Brooklyn, but spoke little English. As his wife [who had lived in the US for a year as a child and had excellent English, although we tried not to use it much] pointed out, "it's like people here in English-speaking yeshivas". And we all nodded. Because it is totally possible to live here for years and not be fluent. I, sadly, am living proof).

Sunday I went back to work in the Old City in person for the first time since the war started (Shalom Shachne was a dear and came with me for moral support on the drive. "Take Your Husband to Work" Day!). The yeshiva where I'm the visiting nurse put our car's license plate on the "approved for entry" list to the Old City and we got to park where the cool kids who live in the Jewish Quarter park (and there was even a legal space! Which was wonderful but also sad). It was terrific to be back in person with my students and good for the soul to walk around the holy streets of the Old City and visit the Kotel. Really heartbreaking to see so many stores closed and just a handful of people walking around (my hat is off to the few tourists I saw).

The whole thing gave me a lot of "Covid whiplash". Except sadder.....I almost cried to see these signs at Judaism's holiest site: 

Are you kidding me? This way to the protected space in case a siren goes off announcing an incoming rocket? 😭. (Truth: this way to Bayit Shlishi)

Today: back to the Old City for work and helping out on a big project for soldiers. Hopefully a longer update tomorrow.

Signs of War (literally)

I've taken some photos lately of....signs to share:

Going shopping is a new experience: do you know where the protected area is where you're shopping (if there even is one)?

                                    

And once I was done grocery shopping (the protected area in by the eggs; you should never need to know), I crossed the street and saw this outside my favorite clothing store:

Sign announcing that "this store has a protected area" (and then the store's name, in case people thought it was the bakery next door. I was glad to see the sign because I had no idea that store had a safe room and, in my opinion, that's a pretty good selling point these days)

The fish store and the sandwich restaurant: "Together We Will Be Victorious




Kids are spending a lot of time making signs to hang all around. So great to see. This one says, "One people. One heart. We will win"

I called for info about possibly joining a new ulpan language program (I have registered with the government to be a volunteer nurse at a Jerusalem-area hospital if it should so be needed. Now I just need to get my language skills vastly, hugely improved in case I get called.....). With the registration materials, they helpfully included a list of handy words people need to know these days, including "Rocket", "Safe Room" and

And cousin Jillian got these beauties on her Duolingo.....

Two Weeks of War

Its hard for me to believe that its been two weeks since our beautiful-and-tough-as-nails country lost even more of its innocence. And I cannot fathom that there are still over 200 BABIES, children, elderly, women- and men who are being held hostage by Hamas.  The Tel Aviv Museum of Art put together an outside exhibit in their honor: one long table (because we're all one) set for Shabbat with 203 empty seats, including baby bottles and sippy cups for the smallest hostages. For those people (I'm sure none of whom are on this list) who are going around the United States tearing down flyers with photos of the hostages on them: are you even human?

From my little corner of the holy land: Feels like we're in "wait-and-see"-ville. Even more refugees are streaming in, now from the North of the country as well as the South. Shabbat was super noisy (I couldn't sleep part of Friday night due to the endless "booms", although I try to always think of the noise as the Iron Dome defending us, rather than of the incoming missiles we need to be protected from), but things were quieter during the day and, thankfully, no sirens. 

There's a special television station and a radio station that cater to the Shabbat-observant public during high-tension times. They have regular programming up until Shabbat candle lighting time, and then go silent except in the case of a siren or security alert. We decided not to tune in, though, because the stations broadcast sirens for the whole country, and the stress of hearing every siren in the entire country was not desired (to say the least). We hear the local siren from our house (although I much prefer the pre-Shabbat music it plays late Friday afternoon and the siren that announces candle lighting at the start of Shabbat) and we also have the app from the Home Front Command on each of our phones, which gives location-based warnings as well (although it doesn't always agree with the local siren. On Friday there was a BOOM that literally shook our house and caused a flurry of texts on neighborhood groups asking why something seemed to have exploded over our very heads yet there wasn't a siren. Turns out that it was a missile that was heading to a neighboring moshav and it was, indeed, intercepted over our city. Home Front Command sent a message when it happened, telling us to head for the shelter, but they didn't make the alarm on the app go off so we all missed it [makes me assume there are different alert levels that they can send out].

I'm hard at work trying to fill my little bit of the world with more kindness (today there is a call for an "Global Day of Loving-Kindness": Fabulous! Other folks can keep their "Day of Rage" [preferably far away from me and my country, thank you]).  

May this be my worst fault, but I don't think I have ever made circle-shaped cookies (drop cookies? Is that what they're called?). So Saturday night, in a "chesed challenge" to myself and because a huge part of our family's "LovingKindnessBakingTeam" had gone back to New York, I spent my time after cleaning up from Shabbat learning how to make cookies :) (Rachel from Ofakim is my hero. Then again, she's everyone's hero [and, no, ABC News, they are not "militants", they are "TERRORISTS"]. 

I'm on my second batch now and have made 100 cookies (whee--I'm a cookie expert!). The first batch is going to a bat mitzvah a group of Ilana's friends are making for a girl displaced from the South. Some of the second are going to a family from our shul whose father was called up for the reserves. My buddy "Bella", who is eight, told me all about her Dad being away yesterday 😢. I made dinner for them tonight. We'll see what "chesed needs" pop up for the rest: last week we gave cookies to soldiers, first responders from MADA (Magen David Adom) and Hatzala, police officers and displaced families. I don't worry about finding places for these.

Today, Sunday, things had been calm for a few days so I was planning to walk to the mercaz and do a big shopping trip with my "bubby cart" (no shame here in using them--everyone does!). Thankfully I decided to go later than I had planned because I would have been out when a siren went off.....Penina and Menashe had just walked out of their apartment when it went off, so, whew, they went back in. Ilana was at school, where, after the initial craziness of "a lot of girls screaming" on their way to the safe rooms, they said tehillim and sang together until they could come out. Meanwhile, Chana, back in New York, had forgotten to turn off her Home Front Command app, and got woken up at 6 in the morning by the worst kind of alarm.....

War Day 11

Thankfully, a quiet day. So I'll take this opportunity to talk about some of the psychological issues. First off, I want to make clear that we, thankfully, live in a pretty calm part of the country and we're all, b''H, doing fine overall.

Definitely a "loss of innocence" about life here in our beautiful country. Here are some things that have changed for me/lots of people:

--My phone and I have reached a new level of our relationship and I'm not really loving this 24/6 are-you-within-arm's-reach thing. Need to use the bathroom? Better have your phone in there in case you don't hear the siren (we all have apps to alert us in case we don't hear the siren or are in an area that doesn't have a siren [ie driving on the highway]). 

--Going for a shower? Make it QUICK. Have a robe handy in case you need to leap out mid-shampoo. See above for making sure your phone is in the bathroom with you.

--Driving? Think (continuously!!!!) about where you will drive/pull over if a siren sounds

--Driving part 2: Tell your family that, should their Red Alert app go off and they need to pull over while driving and lie on the ground with their arms over their heads, that they should lie on the sun shade that's in the car because, on top of that psychological stress, they really don't need burns from hot asphalt on their faces. 

--Shoes: Gotta be able to run into a safe space if outside. Since being caught by the first siren while walking our dog, I've pretty much only worn sneakers when outside. I upped my game a few days ago and now I double-tie them. Even went to the neighbor's bar mitzvah in sneakers. #WhoIsThis

--Safe Rooms: Keep a mental list of where the mamad is in your local supermarket. And the doctor's office. And the other supermarket. And the community center. And in your kid's school and.....and.....and......

--Read on the neighborhood list about all the women who thought they could take their kids briefly to the park the other day. Then a siren sounded. Get stressed just reading about these women lying on top of their kids under the slide, because that's the most shelter they could find in the time they had. Be glad your kids are too old for the park.

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Again, thankful that our stresses are small compared to so many others here.....

In positive news, I've decided to try to popularize the concept of a #ChesedHaul. Click to see the kindness my family shared with others today. 

 

War: Day 11

 b''H a quiet day.

President Biden is arriving tomorrow, for which I would like to say, "thank you, Mr. President, for showing up FOR Israel and showing up IN Israel. Now keep it up even as this likely gets more messy....." 

Today's good deeds were Chana baking over 50 cookies and Penina baking more than 50 muffins. 2/3 went to soldiers (along with yesterday's winter hats and today's 8 pairs of winter socks) and 1/3 to the refugees STREAMING into our city. Ilana, thankfully, went back to school for a half day (SO grateful that her school finally moved into their new building last year, as they were in caravanim/trailers [THANK YOU to everyone who donated to the "move the school" fundraiser. There's no way they'd be having school if they were still at the old site).

Menashe and Penina went back to to their apartment tonight after sleeping here since the war started. Hoping that there will be no sirens tonight. 

A number of people have asked about sites to donate to. Here's my take:

Magen David Adom (MADA): the ambulance corps of Israel. Donate and, as they say, "Save a life in Israel from thousands of miles away". They are a 4-star charity on Charity Navigator.

Friends of the IDF: 100% of each contribution goes to helping Israeli soldiers. They are a 4-star charity on Charity Navigator. Cheryl and Haim Saban are matching gifts currently, which makes me say, "go, go Power Rangers" and thank you, Sabans. 

The Koby Mandell Foundation: I have heard that on the 7th of October, the number of Israeli victims of terror DOUBLED. The Koby Mandell Foundation helps support victims of terror and their family members. 3 stars on Charity Navigator (they didn't turn in tax returns. Otherwise, they are 100%); Charity Navigator says that 3 stars means "give with confidence". 

Ezrat Achim: This is THE local organization that is doing incredible things, both for soldiers, families with a member suddenly called into reserve duty, and displaced families from the South that have temporarily settled in our city. Not as fancy a site as the other ones and no "American Friends of" (i.e. no Charity Navigator rating), but they do tremendous things in our city. 

Before I sign off for the night, please take a moment to think of the 200 people still being held hostage in Gaza. Send them strength. 

War: Day 10

 A very odd day.....This morning felt so normal. (Okay, aside from a crazy amount of gunshots heard this morning that turned out to be the nearby police academy doing some intense training. They evidently announced it, but not on any group that I'm on [then again, I'm not on any exclusively-Hebrew groups, so that's what I get for living in my Anglo bubble]). But ASIDE from that, it was a very quiet day and I almost-but-not-quite could forget what's going on in the country at large. 

Today's "good deed for the country" was buying out 9 black watchman caps at a local store. Would have bought more, but there were no more. The weather is changing here and the soldiers up north are asking for winter gear. Which is not super easy to get in our part of the country because it tends to be pretty temperate all winter here. In Northeast US terms, it's chilly and we truly have some cold/rainy days, but we're definitely not the place to stock up on winter gear.  Ilana wrote on the tags, "Thank you for your service". Will be delivered along with cookies to a local person collecting.

All was going swimmingly until.....a siren this afternoon. DOH. We all made it out okay :). Then my phone really heated up when some local lists announced that a rocket had landed in our neighborhood, and several people contacted various family members to say that they had seen posts that a rocket had fallen *on our street• . I was at work then and, thankfully, knew that all my family members were accounted for. but the bomb squad even came and searched the yard of our diagonally across-the-street neighbors for shrapnel. Eek!

10 days ago, on Day 1 of this lunacy, shrapnel really did fall in the yard of friends one block over, getting them a whole-house evacuation while the police bomb squad did its stuff. 

sassy caption by friend, not me

Here's a link if you want to say tehilim for a soldier (sorry, only Hebrew). You get the name of a soldier to pray for and one perek of tehilim. It's a wonderful site--simple and clear. And I once got the name of someone only a block over (and recognized his name! Sent his Mom a screenshot :)):'

And, lastly, to go with my list from yesterday of captives' names, here are some photos.....

War: Day 8 and 9

Thankfully, we had a beautifully quiet Shabbat with no sirens and not a lot of "booms". Our neighbors across the street were celebrating their oldest son's bar mitzvah. Shalom Shachne and I got invited to the "50 person minyan" at the big shul in the neighborhood (there were probably 150 people there, but honestly, I couldn't quite figure out why the Homefront Command was limiting indoor events to 50 people anyway [less casualties in case a rocket didn't get intercepted by the Iron Dome, I suppose], and at the end of Shabbat, Homefront Command upped it to 300 people anyway). The bar mitzvah boy did a lovely job ;) and his family did a beautiful job "going with the flow" and hosting a kiddish for 80 people in their yard, rather than 200 at the shul, as they had planned. It was kind of shocking to me to see so many people from the neighborhood and realize that many more people than I had thought I knew have sons who are serving.....

Chana has a direct ticket back to NY hopefully leaving Thursday afternoon. Having her here an extra week has been a silver lining, but time for her to go back to her real life now. I'm SO GLAD she's going back on a direct flight. The US government has started offering flights for citizens back to the States. The details are....startling, to say the least. Here are the details: 

1) you have to sign an agreement to pay back the government but they'll figure out the price later 

2) you have to show up at the airport here with no guarantee you'll get on a flight 

3) they'll send you to Greece or Germany (which is some crazy kind of karma, IMO), and you can't choose which. From there, you make your own way back to the US. So, basically, the US government will get you out of Israel, but they're not really getting you back to the US 

And, finally, the weirdest term of the agreement: 

4) they can actually decide to send you BY BOAT to Cyprus (which, if Lebanon heats up any more, seems like not a particularly smart thing to do. Here's a map: 

Our city has become a popular destination for people fleeing from the south (I hope that means that we're in a safe zone and please Gd it should stay that way). Many of these families left with nothing or almost-nothing with them, and there are email- and WhatsApp messages all day asking for food, clothing, appliances, games, you name it, for these families. Chana, Penina and Ilana spent part of the afternoon sorting a large shipment of clothes sent from the US that arrived to one of our favorite organization's for their low-cost clothing gemach. Rather than reselling the clothes at very low prices, though, the store is having displaced families come and shop for free. (Did I mention I love that organization?!).

Lastly, here is a list of men, women and children being held hostage by Hamas. If it's too heartbreaking (and it is) to read each name and pray for their safe return, I'd say just hold it to your heart and ask for each of them to come back SOON, and as whole as possible--physically, mentally and spiritually.

War Day 6

 Incoming rocket siren in our city this afternoon.....I was with "my lovely lady" and we hustled into their family's safe room. Rest of my family was at our house. One of my kids was in the shower mid leg-shave (photo posted with approval ;)):

Good we can have some laughs!!!

More cookies were baked for soldiers. Feels a little like "lather, rinse, repeat".....

I got the good news that we made so much food yesterday for the displaced family that they shared it with another family who just arrived in the neighborhood today (double mitzvot?!)

In more somber news, a woman on my shul chat asked how her two teenage sons could volunteer to dig graves......And my friend Sharon, in a separate exchange, showed me a photo of her teen grandsons up until 4 a.m. actually digging graves in Jerusalem. Update: over 1300 Israelis killed.....Over 3300 wounded.....

We're all looking for ways to bring more light into the world now. Women and girls: please join the "Global Prayer for Peace in Israel" and light Shabbat candles (tea light candles are fine) tomorrow evening 18 minutes (or more) before sundown. You can find out the time by clicking here. 

War Day 5.5

I wrote earlier today about the young man from our city who was killed in action. I was wrong about his funeral, though: it wasn't last night, it was tonight. When I got to work (I assist a beautiful local older couple when I'm not a visiting nurse at a large yeshiva in Jerusalem [where I'm now doing telemedicine rather than going in-person]), I saw a message asking that everyone on streets X, Y and Z come out as the family left for Har Herzl. Military funerals are always very big (hundreds if not thousands of people) but given the current situation, outside events including funerals are extremely limited in attendance. The couple I work with lives half a block from the soldier who died. He was only 22 and leaves a young wife....

At the appointed time "my lovely lady" (MLL) and I joined her son-in-law and went outside (her husband was teaching a Torah class on Zoom). Her daughter? She was at another military funeral on Har Herzl....There are no words for the emotional resilience of the Israeli people.

The street was lined with people with Israeli flags.....Somber.....Quiet.....Someone with a beautiful voice at the end of the street was singing tehilim (psalms) and people joined in.....

NOTE: Everything scary/stressful that I write after this was not proven in the long run. De-stress alert!!!

And then a military officer walked down the street and announced repeatedly that there had been incursions into the north and if we heard an incoming rocket siren, we all needed to lie flat on the ground with hands over our heads.....I asked MLL if we should go in or stay out, and if she could lie on the ground if necessary, and this amazing Holocaust survivor told me she wanted to stay out (in thinking about it, we still would have 90 seconds to get inside and she could walk that fast, so we were really okay. They were just saying to lie on the ground because of the big crowds there). I didn't see a single person on the street move. This country is amazing. (Although I guess I'm still pretty darn American because my mind was going a mile a minute with "should we go in? Maybe we should just go into the bomb shelter now and hang out there for a couple of days just in case something happens?!").

The minibus with the family drove by and there honestly was not a sound. I whispered the words of consolation we say at a funeral when the mourners pass through two lines of people after the burial. I have no idea what the protocol is, but it felt right, and then MLL and I walked two houses down the street to "accompany" the family. Hundreds of people filled the street, holding Israeli flags, accompanying the family. It was incredibly moving and absolutely heart-breaking.

I was so thankful that my 7 minute drive home was siren-less and it was wonderful to arrive home and find a beautiful dinner my kids had made (not that I was super hungry). 

And then during dinner, the Homefront Command issued an alert--without a siren--that everyone was to "enter a protected room and stay there until further notice". This was a country-wide alert..... 

On the plus side, I was very impressed at my family's togetherness (aside from about 20 seconds of squabbling about "do they really mean it?" and "I'm hungry! I didn't get to eat yet" ["Grab a snack and let's go!"]. I pressed the button to close the metal tris (shutter) to our sliding glass door, grabbed Percy (I'm seeing a trend here....) and his doggie friend Theo (neither of whom made a peep or squirmed even a bit) and went upstairs. Penina triple-locked our front door. Everyone else shut every other tris we had and we got upstairs in about 45 seconds. We had a really "fun" ten minutes in there with some saying tehilim, some cracking jokes and, after a few minutes, some trying to figure out if this was real or not because the WhatsApp messages were FLYING and "some" people were saying it was a mistaken message.

Turns out, thankfully, in this case "some" people were correct and Home Front Command sent a message saying "You can leave the protected room in your area. Following a situation analysis, you can now leave the protected room".

HASHEM YISHMOR

War Day 5

 Thank Gd, we are all still safe and sound. 

The funerals are starting.....No one we know, yet still unspeakably sad. A incoming rocket siren sounded during a lone soldier's funeral at the military cemetery on Har Hertzl. The photos of those mourners flat on the ground are absolutely heartbreaking (enough so that I'm not putting one in here). Another military hero is a  young man from our town, a young-20's married man whose funeral was yesterday. I work a few houses down from where his family is sitting shiva. There are no words....

Trying to get used to the "new normal", such as the fact that I now lock my car.....that we lock the door of our house.....that we ask who is outside before opening the door (do we think they actually say, "Hamas?" Or even knock?!). 

Another part of the "new normal" is becoming accustomed to grocery shortages. According to some reports, there are not actually any food shortages, just breaks in the production and delivery chains. Arab workers are not allowed into Israel at the moment. The grocery store in the mercaz that I do almost all of my shopping at has a staff that's about 60% Arab (I get it if that word sounds weird to you, but that's the word used even by the people themselves). While the cashiers are all Israeli, the unloading of trucks and loading of shelves is mostly done by Arabs (how to know? They speak Arabic to each other ;)). The store has sent out messages that they are interviewing people and hiring them on-the-spot for open positions and that they are accepting volunteers. The yeshiva in our neighborhood sent 40 students over yesterday to help stock shelves and every day that goes by it becomes more normal for teens to head on up and help get food on the shelves. The store will actually accept kids ages 10 and up as long as they have a responsible person with them. Since kids have no school (some places have started up on Zoom again, but a lot haven't), this is not a bad way to spend part of the day.

The hardest thing to find has been milk. Aside from the distribution and shelving problems, there are issues with actually getting the cows milked. A number of dairies are in the south, in the areas that were attacked. I saw an online plea for people with experience milking cows to come to a dairy in the south for minimum three day shifts. The ad promised that there would be a significant army presence to protect the workers. In the meantime, "which supermarket has milk?" is one of the two most asked questions on my local WhatsApp groups (it switches off with "what do the soldiers need now and where can I bring my supplies/baked goods"). I stared at the almost-empty dairy section yesterday, took the last carton of soy milk and tried to decide if we were desperate enough to buy one of the few remaining containers of banana flavored milk (answer: no). Went to another store this morning: zip on the milk front (even banana flavor).

For now, Penina and Menashe have moved in with us. We are thankful that our wonderful new son-in-law is a very mellow guy because, gee, "happy one month anniversary--go move in with your in-laws and your two sisters-in-law" (poor guy). 

I finally went for a run today. First time I've even stretched since this started. After consultation with the runner's group I'm part of, I felt that running on the circular street at the top of the hill/mountain we live on would be safe, as there are apartment buildings the entire way around, none of which are locked (i.e. I could duck into a stairwell [which is an official recommendation of the Homefront Command] if an incoming rocket siren went off) and that other people are pretty much always walking around there so I wouldn't feel alone/exposed/at risk. The last two times I ran last week, I did a 6K loop around our city and it was so much more interesting than just running around that one street, but it involves a half-kilometer stretch of open field and, nope, not doing that.

We're still working on making our little corner of the world a better place. The displaced family of ten from the south was very thankful for our dinner last night, and today we made cookies and muffins for local police officers:

The tags say "thank you very much. Hashem should protect you" (oh, and that they're pareve!)

 And a final thought:

War

I can't quite get my head around the fact that my last post was a link to watch Penina and Menashe's wedding and here we are, exactly a month later on the Jewish calendar, and we've been through the wedding, Rosh Hashanah, the Ten Days, Yom Kppur, the beginning of Sukkot and Chol HaMoed and then came back to earth with a giant, horrific siren blare on Shabbat/Simchat Torah announcing incoming rockets. I'm not going to rehash the news, but I will say that I am horrified by the complete inhumanity and barbarism displayed by Hamas in kidnapping women, children, THE ELDERLY (inlcuding a Holocaust surivor taken in her wheelchair). As Secretary of State Antony Blinken said, this "should be something that revolts the entire world". 

I will also share some shocking statistics with you, like this from the American Jewish Congress, shared by my niece Megan:

and this from the World Jewish Congress via cousin Jillian:

To back up to Shabbat/Simchat Torah/Saturday: I had davened at the sunrise minyan from 6:15-8:45 and, athough we could hear a lot of "boom boom" happening, everything was calm (hey, no sirens and not like we were at war [then]). I was out walking Percy around 9 when those background booms turned into an "incoming rocket" siren. Percy stopped in his tracks. I did too. Then picked him up and ran like heck home reminding myself the whole time, "I'm a runner. I can do this. I've got 60 seconds to get in the safe room". Mentally, though, that run of one block and up one flight of stairs felt like one of those nightmares where you're running and get nowhere.... 

We were in the safe room ("mamad") six times that day.....Re. the safe room: it has reinforced windows and a reinforced door. When the siren sounds it's everyone in until the siren stops plus ten minutes. I keep a box with water and cups, a chocolate bar (good to keep away emotional Dementors) and two sifrei tehilim in there. Because it's also the guest room, we have beds, pillows and books too :). No air conditioning (I have heard it's illegal in a safe room so that there are no air ducts). Because Menashe and Penina were staying in there, the fan and Shabbat light were on (our friends who did not have guests sat in their hot, dark room. Sounds much less pleasant.....). Shalom Shachne said he heard that two of the sirens were actually in Gimel, across the valley from our house and we didn't really need to go into the mamad and extra points for great hearing. Since Gimel really isn't all that far (look at the photo at the top of this page. This is the view from our living room and that's Gimel, right across the valley from us). 

Shabbat was a pretty surreal day for me. Living in a religious city, there are usually a few cars passing through on Shabbat or holidays, but no significant number. This day was a big exception. Not just lots of people passing through, but lots of men getting in their cars and leaving (from what we heard, the Army keeps lists of who will answer their phone on Shabbat and who won't. They send someone around to those who don't use their phones and they get a knock on the door and orders to pack up and go). Walking Percy in the afternoon (while staying close to home and wearing sneakers rather than nice shoes [#OnceBurnedTwiceShy] I saw a family on the next street walking two of their fatigue-wearing sons to their car. It was so impressive to see their strength and grace under such incredible pressure. And then this very unusual conversation about where they could gas up the car on Shabbat because nothing is open here on Shabbat..... 

 I'm going to try to focus on the humanity, love and caring of the average citizen here. I'm going to do my best to fill my little section of the world with "ahavat chinam" (baseless love) to counter the "sinat chinam" (baseless hate) of our enemies. Here's what's I see: Although Israel's army is a well-prepared one, no one expected 400,000 reserve troops to be called up at the same time and the Army does not seem like it was prepared to suddenly feed all the reserve troops. So there have been MANY events gathering food for the soldiers (loved this video from Dizengoff Square in Tel Aviv). Kids in our neighborhood helped fill a local charity organization's entire ambulance with food, snacks and supportive signs and notes for soldiers. We did our part by purchasing protein bars (small and good energy for the soldiers), cakes and Chana made cookies that we dropped off. Tomorrow night we're making dinner for a family of ten that has moved from the South into a neighbor's house. 

Due to the timing of Hamas's attack, the soldiers were not prepared in many ways: a large number of them were away for the holiday and had literally nothing with them aside from Shabbat clothes and a pair of pajamas. We know many people who have taken it upon themselves to buy underwear and undershirts, phone chargers, flashlights, anything the soldiers need along with food. A young friend of mine raised 1200 nis (about $400) in two hours just by posting on her Whatsapp status that she had a contact who would take the supplies to his Army unit if she was able to quickly buy things before he left. Those not in the Army are working hard to fill in the societal gaps: there are lists going around for volunteers to take down Sukkot for families suddenly without a man at home, and also lists of people who will babysit and help out for these suddenly single-parent families.

The last two nights have been loud with booms throughout the night but no sirens.  I don't think anyone is sleeping particularly well (the windows even shake sometimes). There are weird emotional comparisons to Covid lockdowns (as you may recall, Israel did it first and a lot worse than pretty much anywhere else, such as being forbidden to go anywhere more than 100 meters from the house, which meant that taking the trash out was an illegal activity for us). Ilana's school announced that some classes would be by telephone today. Sigh.

Chana was supposed to leave Sunday but her flight was canceled. She's still working on when and how she'll get back to New York.

I ask you to join me in praying for peace and security in our beautiful country.

Wedding!!!

Family and friends! Our wedding will take place *Monday (11.09)*, Thank you for being a part of our Simcha! *💓You can join our wedding from afar via the livestream💓* The live stream will start at- 05:30 PM (Israel time) Chuppah- 06:00 PM (Israel time) 📹 - Link to livestream 👇🏻 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvLdSfGoj0I 📜Let us feel your energy! Send us a selfie of you watching🤳🏻 and a Bracha as well 👇🏻 https://chat.whatsapp.com/D8HbhYkTUllH0X1FhUya7R

"What's Going on Over There?!"

 Since several people have asked for my take on what's going on in Israel now, I'll say what I firmly believe:

We are all one people

We are all one family

We are one tiny nation surrounded by countries that, at best, would shrug and look the other way if we ceased to exist and, at worst, would be dancing in the streets at Israel's destruction

We have been given a GIANT test that has come to a head during the Nine Days leading up to Tisha b'Av, the saddest day of the year, when we mourn the loss of our Holy Temple. Will we rise to the occasion and show absolute, baseless love, the opposite of the baseless hate that caused our downfall in the past?? 

I KNOW that many other people are also thinking this. The Jerusalem Post this morning, as part of their main editorial  (https://www.jpost.com/opinion/article-752146) spoke about a protest yesterday that I doubt many of you read about in your local newspaper: Israelis from all across the religious- and political spectrum forming a human chain from the Kotel to the Knesset with the simple message: UNITY.

Want to see some of the best of Israel during these protests? Watch this video (https://www.instagram.com/reel/CvEBWvvgmy8/?igshid=MTc4MmM1YmI2Ng==) of protesters on one side of the debate leaving a train station while those on the other side were entering. As one group goes down the escalators and the other goes up, there are handshakes and shouts of "I love you". If you watch this video, you cannot tell which side is which: each side has plenty of people carrying the Israeli flag and people on both sides of the escalator are reaching out to their fellow Israeli on the other side.

In our city, protesters on each side of the debate have met on opposite sides of a large traffic circle, each holding signs and Israel flags. And they end the night by singing Hatikva, Israel's national anthem, together.

Am Yisrael Chai