January 16, 2009

Fear and panic engulfed me as I was walking to pick up my daughter from day care one recent afternoon in Jerusalem. As I strolled down a busy street enjoying the lovely Israeli sunshine, suddenly a loud air raid siren filled the air. My first impulse was to believe it was just a test, yet reality told me something different. Israel is at war, and if air raid sirens are sounding down south due to the missiles from Hamas as well as up north due to the missiles from terrorists in Lebanon, why should I assume that these sirens in Jerusalem were just a test?

I froze and anxiously looked around me for some comfort from other people’s reactions, yet they were equally petrified. Women were on the ground yelling out prayers, men’s eyes stiffly wandered all around searching for a safe place to hide, and children were screaming for fear of what might follow the siren. I was no longer living my comfortable daily life.

After I recovered from my moment of shock, the siren was still blasting. I began to run. I envisioned the face of my beautiful daughter and immediately felt the need to hold her and be with her. I ran past crying children and begged to God that my child should not feel this fear. I cried out to God that my child should feel safe – because what in the world could be worse than your child’s nightmares coming true without you there to comfort them?

Two minutes into the siren’s wail, I arrived at the day care center to find my sweet baby sitting in a circle singing songs with her friends. I think it is only then that I took my first breath of air after hearing the siren. That is also when the day care supervisor entered the room to tell everyone that the siren that went off was just a malfunction, not a prelude to doomsday.

As I held my daughter tight and kissed her, I couldn’t help but think of all of the parents in southern Israel who face this reality multiple times a day. When they hear the sirens they know that it’s not a malfunction or a test, but rather a strict warning that a missile WILL hit within 15 seconds. Their children all know what the sirens represent, so it is not just the loud noise that causes them fear, but their knowledge of the aftermath as well. I thought about the many rockets that have hit day care centers in Ashkelon, Sderot, and other cities, and wept.

Jerusalem is not that far from the rocket stricken area down south, yet I never felt a connection like I do now with those people living in such miserable conditions. After experiencing the panic and fear of being helpless in face of an inevitable incoming rocket, I mourn not only for the innocent Israelis killed but the loss of innocence in the living as well. No longer can mothers take their children to the park, zoo, or restaurant without being conscious of the location of the nearest bomb shelter. No longer can the husband go to work certain that his home and family will be in one piece when he returns.

Thank God, the air raid sirens that I experienced today were false alarms. Yet, those sirens, which are not false alarms, are a daily reality for hundreds of thousands of my fellow Israelis. They are forced to live each minute of their lives in a state of fear and anxiety knowing that at any given moment a Hamas fired missile can hit their car, house, playground, hospital, or day care center. That is why all Israelis are eager on the one hand for a cease fire with Hamas, yet highly skeptical on the other.

We are searching for an end to the killing and terror. We’re open to the prospect that a ceasefire might, perhaps, be an answer to our prayers. If the ceasefire with Hamas is concrete and enduring and finally enables Israel’s southern residents to live in peace, then it will be a true miracle. However, we fear, and in many ways anticipate, that a ceasefire will be another opportunity for Hamas to rearm and regroup. We realize that after a brief lull in attacks they may well resume the rocket fire we’ve been terrorized by for nearly eight years. Most Israelis know that signing a cease fire agreement with Hamas before they denounce their terrorist ways, promise to cease terror activity, and recognize Israel’s right to exist, is an extremely risky – and perhaps even a futile – venture.

However, we Israelis yearn for peace so strongly, that we’re willing to try every possible scenario to reach a lasting peace, no matter how absurd it sounds to some. It pains us deeply to know that if our enemies cherished life as much as they romanticize martyrdom and death, peace would be attainable.

As for now, all I can do is pray and remind myself that it is all in God’s hands. I pray for the people in Sderot, Ashkelon, Ashdod, and Be’er Sheva – all cities under fire from Hamas – and long for the day when we will not be awakened by the sound of blaring sirens, but rather the sound of the ram’s horn blowing, telling us that redemption has arrived.

With great gratitude and prayers for shalom,
Yael