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This time last year it’s early in the morning and I am suddenly roused from sleep.
Could it be…? Is this a siren? We are usually warned about red alert sirens, indicating that we are being shot at by missiles, but this morning it came unexpectedly. No sign at all.
Through my confusion, I dragged myself out of bed.
It has been nearly two weeks.
Somehow time has managed to crawl by and speed past.
We have been living in a weird alternate reality.
There isn’t any routine. School is still not functional.
Rockets are still falling. My kids discuss how many ‘booms’ they have heard each day.
Across the yard
Where the Sukkah still stood
We could hear the beat to the drums of war
As we danced and rejoiced
With the holy Torah,
I warily turned the lock of the door
8 October, 2023
It’s my daughter yelling “airplane!” in excitement as a fighter jet flies overhead.
It’s my little nephew coming home early from shul to put on his uniform and go before the dancing has even begun.
It’s the mothers at kiddush swapping rumors and news as their sons and husbands are called up, while the children line up for candy and dance hakafot[1] because it’s still Simchat Torah and what else are we supposed to do.
Simchat Torah is every Jewish person’s favorite holiday, you can’t convince me otherwise. Feasts that would put the Beauty and the Beast’s feast to shame, uncoordinated dances in synagogues and living up to true joy. It’s
By Nechama SamuelsTelz Stone/Kiryat Yearim, Israel Yesterday should have been Simchas TorahInstead it felt more like Yom KippurPeople walking around with hollow facesNot eating Yesterday we should have bolted out of bedInto our new clothesRun to
Raanana, Israel How do I write about something that I can’t make any sense of? How do I write when we’re right in the middle of it and there’s still so much we don’t know? I’ll