By Nechama Samuels
Telz Stone/Kiryat Yearim, Israel
Yesterday should have been Simchas Torah
Instead it felt more like Yom Kippur
People walking around with hollow faces
Not eating
Yesterday we should have bolted out of bed
Into our new clothes
Run to shul to watch hakafos
Instead we bolted out of bed
Into our miklats
In our pajamas
Barefoot
We left the beds unmade
Yesterday we should have stood in shul
Far too long
Watching the men dancing with the sefer torahs
Gossiping, sharing news from our little village
Instead we stood in the shelter
Far too long
And then watched the white trails
drifting in the sky
Left from the iron dome
Repeating gossip heard from the neighbor
About what was really going on
Cradling our children who want to know
When this is going to be over
Yesterday we should have hosted guests
For a beautiful festive meal
Sat long at the table
Trying to fix things that cannot be fixed
Politics, inflation, the shidduch crisis
Instead we told visitors staying next door
That we have room for them
in our miklat
Gave them a cold bottle of water and some flimsy plastic cups
Assured them that they probably will be able to attend
The wedding they came here for
They’d probably be able to leave
When they want to leave
Doling out assurances
That are not ours to give
Sat at the table all afternoon
Hearing booms and thuds thrumming through the sky
From the south
Discussing things that cannot be fixed
The Arab’s hatred for us
The world’s consistent skewing of our reality
The incompetence of our own government
Yesterday we should have witnessed Kol Ha’nearim
At Beit Hachalama
Seen the enormous Tallis stretched
Across the whole room
Covering hundreds of squirming newborn babies
Heard Hamalach Hago’el sung by
Tattys, Daddies, Abbas, Zeidies, Sabas
Instead we sat on the couches
Tried to comfort ourselves with fuzzy blankets
Draped over our shoulders like taleisim
Listening to the military jets screech over our house
In unfamiliar formations
Yesterday as the sun set
We should have been passionately singing
Our shalashudis songs
Looking longingly at the dark sukkah
Regretting that the beautiful chag is over
Signifying the beginning of a long and boring winter
So many weeks until Chanuka.
Instead we quickly ran through the songs
Looked longingly at our devices
Waiting to hear exactly what happened
Probably weeks of war
A disruption of normal, boring life
The dark sukkah sat alone
Eicha yoshva ba’dad.
Yesterday when the chag was over
My chats should have been filled with people
Complaining/bragging about the loads of laundry
They’ve done so far
Instead they were sharing names of the injured and the missing
Telling of the neighbors and nephews who’ve been called up
Posting pictures of missiles that landed nearby
Yesterday when the chag was over
We should have cranked up the music
Been outside far too late
Noisily taking down the sukkah
Rolling up the posters for next year
Scaring the cats, annoying the neighbors
Instead we each sat around on our phones
Shouting out the stats like
Soccer announcers
“100 Dead!”
“1,500 injured!”
“At least 200 being held as hostages!”
Scaring the little kids.
Yesterday we should have gone to bed too late
Satisfied with the night’s work
The sukkah secured back in its place
In the miklat
Instead we left the miklat empty- just in case
We roamed around all night
Agonizing
Made sure all the outdoor lights were blazing
Securing the guest room door
Double-locking the front door
Bolting the side door
So no one could put their arm in through the window
And let themselves in
We waited for the sunlit sky
To bring us better news.
