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 just tell my story.
Saturday morning, 6.30 a.m.
We’re woken up by a loud siren, meaning we have 90 seconds to run to a safe room or bomb shelter. This was a strange surprise. Usually, there’s some pre-warning or expectation that we’re entering into a period where sirens might be sounded, but there were no such indications this time. This came from nowhere.
My husband, Ivan, and I wake up, look at each other and ask, “Is this real?”
I didn’t think it was. The last time it happened was three years ago. But, the siren quickly got louder and in a split second, we knew. We jump out of bed to gather our children. Ivan goes to get our youngest who had also woken up by then, and I go to get our oldest and his wife who were still fast asleep. I wake them up and they’re surprised at my insistence, thinking I’m waking them up to go to synagogue. This was our Shabbat morning combined with a special Jewish holiday, Simchat Torah, where we celebrate our Jewish heritage and receiving the Torah. This is a day of festivities, celebration, and dancing in the streets.
I wasn’t waking them up for a celebration. I was waking them up to go to a safe room.
Yes, we have a safe room in our house. Actually, it’s my office! Most of the more newly-built houses and apartments in Israel have their own safe rooms but many don’t, which means that people have 90 seconds to get to the bomb shelter closest to them. There’s one in every neighborhood.
We sat in the safe room and heard the booms of explosions – rockets fired and intercepted by the iron dome. After about 10 minutes, we came out and were in shock. Was this a mistake? Were they some errant rockets that happened to fly by? We had no idea.
Being a Saturday, our Shabbat, all our technology remains switched off, so we had no way of finding out.
Over the next couple of hours, news started trickling through that a serious invasion had happened and people had been killed. At the synagogues, festivities were cut short, people were sent home. No one danced in the streets.
We were sitting at home wondering how this could happen? Is everyone being over-cautious?
Unfortunately, being used to terror attacks, we still believed the situation would be under control quickly and life would go back to normal.
With news coming through from people who had heard more, my two children switched on their phones. They knew they were now ‘on call’ and needed to be available in case they got called up to serve.
Very soon we understood the situation was grave.
My son was called in that day. My daughter a little later on.
We heard about the surprise infiltration of the Israel-Gaza border, mass shootings at a rave with thousands of young adults, shootings in people’s homes, people missing, people taken hostage… Chaos and unimaginable horrors on our screens and news channels.
At this point we knew that hundreds were dead, 150-200 were missing and thousands of rockets continued to be fired.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. Here in Israel? On such a scale?
It is unimaginable. I guess we always think it can’t and won’t happen here.
So here I am writing my personal story, from the relative safety of my home, where we hear sirens going every so often, necessitating a quick dash to the safe room. We hear the constant booms from further away even when we don’t have a siren. Our loved ones are out there serving to save lives.
I’m writing because it feels like my world has changed overnight. Most of the time, I’m in a state of shock, still trying to understand it all, even though it’s not really understandable. I’m grief-stricken, sad, and heartbroken.
I have an overwhelming need to get into action. What can I do? How can I help?
Watching the horrors makes my heart break for people who’ve lost family, whose families have been torn apart, who’ve got children that are missing – some I know and many I don’t know, and that doesn’t matter. We’re all in this together and it’s really hard to understand the violence that can be perpetrated like this.
I want to thank everyone for your messages of support. It means so much that you hold us in your thoughts and hearts and that we pray together for better times and for humanity to survive and reign. Humanity, where we see each other as human beings who are here to live life and do good, be kind, be loving, and be generous.
The Israeli citizens are showing up in hundreds and thousands to offer support – buying and making food, getting supplies, supporting families who’ve been hurt and evacuated, donating blood, volunteering in hospitals, driving packages all over the country to people who need them.
There are so many initiatives that have started up in the last 48 hours to do good, and volunteers that are being turned away – come back in 2 hours, we have too many people now.
There are stories of heroes who saved lives (and lost lives) amidst the atrocities.
We have seen so much support from the world around us, the Israel flag on government buildings in London, Paris, Berlin, Argentina (and maybe others I don’t know about).
Every kind word, gesture, and message helps!
We’re at war – it seems such a strange concept for a life that until three days ago felt normal – who even thought about a war? There are still many people dying and many are missing, hostages taken – and this war will probably last a while.
I’m still in a state of shock and when I eventually manage to fall asleep at night, I wake up the next day realising this is still my reality. First thing, I check my phone for a message from my oldest son, Idan, my youngest daughter, Noalee – both in the army now. [My middle daughter, Lee-Elle, is studying in London and is devastated by the stories and that she’s so far from us.] Check the news. Connect with loved ones. Figure out what this day is going to look like. How and where can I help?
I’m learning to take it moment by moment and do what I can to spread more love and kindness in the world
This is not a political issue I’m writing about. It’s a human issue. There is just no way to understand this senseless violence.
I want to end with a quote from Adam Grant:
No one should die over disputes about land
No one should fear for their safety due to their faith
No matter where people live and what they believe, life is precious.
Am Yisrael Chai 🇮🇱
