war life Archives - Page 3 of 7

Writing from home

I Will Call You After the War

I had that student. I remember his first time in my class vividly. He chose a chair, positioning himself with his back to the window to shield his eyes from the sun. As he settled in, he seemed to claim the space as his own. With piercing, attentive eyes, his demeanour challenged me with a ‘Well? Show me what you’ve got.’
Whoops! In that very instant, I sensed he would challenge me every second of our 90-minute lesson.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” I suggested.

Alla Turovskaya October 6, 2024

Soldiering On

More empty chairs than not
We’ll sit at the table alone
But how can we bemoan our fate
When our children could still come home

Miriam Roskind October 5, 2024

Writing from the warfront

October’s Ashes

Through smoky dawn,
a soldier stands,
in Israel’s land.

Courage demands,
he treads on ashes,
October’s ashes,
the fallen’s remains.

Estee Olga Shapiro September 27, 2024

Writing from home

The Dream

I once had a dream that disturbed me for years, and then I forgot about it. Until now.

The dream concerned my youngest child, my Gadi, who was five at the time. In the dream, I took him to the kindergarten down the block from our home, as I did every morning. We played our usual counting and color-spotting games as we walked, swinging our joined hands. When we reached the kindergarten, I pressed the entrance buzzer, and then, as happens in dreams, I suddenly found myself elsewhere.

Julie Rosenzweig September 2, 2024

Writing from home

Bridge of Tears

Last night, I went to the kotel and prayed. I didn’t pray like I normally pray. I imagined I was Shiri Bibas praying for herself and her husband and her children in Hamas captivity. I do not know if she’s allowed to pray out loud where she is. I am sure most of her thoughts are prayers.

Elisheva Elbaz August 18, 2024

Writing from home

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

We commemorate
Celebrate
Pontificate
On the ironies
Faced in grief and love
that proliferate
Holding space and breath
Remembering who we are and the salvation
We await

We’ve been here before
We know when it’s time to
Lather, rinse, repeat

Rachel Weinstein August 12, 2024

Writing from home

Of Grief and Hope: A Haiku

Sadness overwhelms
A new day, the tale replayed
Once too many times

Laid to rest in peace
As hearts weep across bruised land
Pain spreads far and wide

Rachel Weinstein August 12, 2024

Writing from home

The Fears We Face – Iranian Threats on Erev Shabbat*

Threats are heavy
Anxiety is thick
And the sky is a perfect bright blue
that reminds me uncomfortably of
that Tuesday morning
Fear permeates the steady, warm breeze
As thick grey plumes of destruction
Ring out

Rachel Weinstein August 12, 2024

War and Bees: The honey and the sting

In the picturesque landscape of Israel’s Galilee, where the soothing hum of our Neshikha beehives now mingles with the buzz of air force drones and echoes of distant aerial and artillery cross-border warfare, a recent quotidian journey to the annual beekeepers’ conference at the Volcani Agricultural Institute in Rehovot, in the country’s center, turned into an unexpected snapshot of Israel at war.

Dave Bender August 12, 2024

Writing from home

A Chanukah Story

I haven’t told anyone this because, well, first because I know I’ll sound crazy. But second, because I don’t want anyone to spoil it for me.

I went to visit my sister and her family in Israel a couple of months after the Hamas massacre. I wanted to spend time with them, support them, make sure they were okay, and admittedly, ease my guilt about being so far away. It was the first night of Chanukah when I landed – the Festival of Lights—but there was very little light in the country.

Tamar Gribetz August 7, 2024

Tag: war life