The Hard Days.

These are the days of sorrow for all of us.  For the dead and injured Israeli soldiers. For the innocent civilians killed in Gaza because of lack of communication, frustration and pressure of war.  For the horror of the tunnels, Hamas hatred of Israel, human conditions in Gaza, rocket sirens and explosions, for the stress that we all live in.

Today my husband saw his old school friend read Kadish for his son that was killed by explosives in a UN clinic. His only son. Son that looked exactly like his dad did 30 years ago when my husband and his father were high-school friends. At the funeral, the grandfather, a Holocaust survivor, cried to the soldiers "no need to hurry, bury him slowly."

Our 18-year old nephew came from the army for a few hours to attend a funeral of his school friend.

Today in Beer Sheva a girl was born unaware that her officer father gave his life for her future just a few day ago.

Every family has a soldier now, some in Gaza and some in other places.  There are thousands of parents, wives and kids that cannot sleep at night and their heart drops from any knock on the door.

There are thousands of people on both sides that could not sleep because of sirens and explosions. We had our first middle-of-the-night shock of rockets at 2:30 am a few days ago. South residents take it daily. Constant alert, search for the nearby shelter anywhere you are,  24-hour news updates, Iron Dome shrieks and loud boom became part of the routine even for toddlers.

A Quiet Shabbat. Day 19 of the war.

Today we all woke up to an unexpectedly quiet morning and messages of a 12-hour humanitarian cease-fire on our screens.  Hesitantly we used the opportunity to go to a neighborhood swimming pool, many people went to the beach. The summer pleasures we started to forget while hiding at home in anticipation of the missile sirens. I know that in Gaza for many it was a much sadder day, to bury the dead and the necessity restocking day.

Yesterday, the Shabbat dinner went in front of the TV screens waiting for the Cabinet's decision to accept or reject the US and Egypt-brokered cease fire, while the local and International journalists discussed each outcome. What the US news source didn't say is that this Knesset meeting was long and heated, lasting about 4 hours. No one doubted that lives of many people on both sides were at stake. We learned that the meeting ended at about 10:30pm when the rocket sirens went off and a few missiles exploded in the air. As my brother's family were our dinner guests, I sent my mom a pitiful picture of four of her grand-kids hiding in a shelter together.

Surprisingly, no government official appeared before the waiting journalists to explain the Cabinet's decision. All the members rushed home leaving the bewildered journalists, the Israeli population and the whole world to guess as to why. I am starting to think that this is an Achilles Heal of the Israeli culture and politics, possibly influenced by the Macho Military Discipline that most citizens go through. Do not explain your behavior. Do not explain your reasoning. Why bother making others understand you and bringing them to your side. You thought it through - just do it. And do not explain or apologize if you turned to be wrong. This theory for me explains the lack of any serious PR Israel is producing for years, and especially throughout this operation, the silence after the UN school bombing in Gaza (explanation for which the whole world is still waiting for), as well as the absence of details regarding yesterday's cease-fire rejection.

Most of the people and media I saw today actually agree with the Cabinets's decision of the cease-fire rejection. What I heard is:
- Apparently the agreement didn't allow Israelis enough time to finish destroying the tunnels.
- There is suspicion that a long cease-fire period and new supplies will allow Hamas to recoup.
- If we stop now, the rockets will continue to be fired at the South as for years before.
- If we stop now, the war will result in Hamas gaining even more popularity among the Palestinians.

Despite the lack of government's communication with the public, the majority of the public does support the government wholeheartedly in this operation. Because now the rockets are not only fired to the South and not occasionally but everywhere and daily if not hourly. We all live in constant fear of sirens and explosions. You can also see what is going on above us now on this map: Redalert.co.il or by downloading the RedAlert smartphone app.

Like in the World War 2 stories and movies, everyone here supports the operation in some way:
- People are collecting money and buying necessity supplies for soldiers.
- Many are visiting wounded soldiers at the hospitals, donating blood.
- Kibbytzim in the North have welcomed people from the Kibbytzim in the South.
- Organizations are gathering toys and clothes for people in the South.
- Scouts are helping elderly people shut at home to buy medicine and food.
- Actors are doing free performances for residents of the South.
- Thousands of people had come to the lone soldiers funerals to create the large extended family these soldiers didn't have in Israel.
If you are looking for ways to help, I posted a list of organizations in my previous post.

In our daughter's day care, the teacher, who is also the day care owner, was called to the reservists service. His duty is what is called here - a Town Officer - who is part of a team that notifies the families of fallen soldiers.

The day care is continuing to function with the assistant teachers. We are now getting an instant message after every rocket attack from them that everything is OK as the day care doesn't have a shelter.

Saturday evening.  Relying on the extended cease fire we decide to go to a theater in Tel Aviv leaving the kids with my father.  Ironically, the play is titled: "Everyone wants to live."  Near Rabin square we are stuck in a heavy traffic because of a starting stop-the-invasion now demonstration.  At 22:30 we see our phone screen flash with notice of cease-fire break with renewal of rockets to the South and Central Israel. The 3,000 people demonstration is dispersed by the police as larger than 300 people gatherings are dangerous at the time of rockets. On our way back home we hear the announcement of times and places for funerals of each of the six Israeli soldiers who died since Friday afternoon.

How you can help Israel now.

A few of my friends asked how they can help Israel now by either gathering toys for kids in the South or providing necessities for the soldiers on the battle fields. My American friend here pointed me to a list of charities accepting donations. If you know of anything else - please feel free to add them in the comments below.

1. DKatom.co.il/under  Care packages for the IDF soldiers that include underwear and other necessities. Use stores in the South to support their business in this difficult time.
2. OneIsraelFund  Providing security and medical equipment to Southern communities.
3. IndieGoGo  Supplies for the troops on the front lines.
4. YasharLaChayal A well-known soldier organization providing soldiers with needed equipment as requested.
5. LoneSoldierCenter The Michael Levine Lone Soldier Center is providing help specifically to lone soldiers. Sadly we lost two of them yesterday.
6. UnitedHatzala This organization of volunteers is providing emergency medical treatment. They need equipment to protect their volunteers (bulletproof vests and helments).
7. Jewcer Fund camps or trips for children under rocket fire.
8. OneFamily Another organization providing support to victims of terror and getting families out of the South.
9. Reservists  Help the families of Israeli reservists serving in Gaza.
10. Ben Goldstein. Paypal: Matolman1@yahoo.com  Ben is going to the soldiers regularly delivering whatever is requested.
11. Elana. Paypal: cakesforkby@gmail.com  Elana is organizing help for families where the husband is on a reservists duty: pizza delivery, cleaning assistance etc.
12. ShmiraProject. Pair IDF combat soldiers with people around the world who do acts of kindness, pray or learn Torah to increase the soldier's spiritual merit or protection.

And we are at war. Day 11.

The Israeli Army entered Gaza last night. An extremely dangerous and complex operation that was tried to be avoided but became the only choice and an obvious choice as the cease-fire was rejected and the rockets intensified. The sirens were everywhere - in the South where people are afraid to leave their homes for a week now, in Jerusalem in the middle of Bar Mitzvah celebration in the beautiful Sephardi synagogue, in Hertzelia during our son's swimming practice, at my work in Rosh Ha Ayin bordering the Arab Village Kassem, in the Ramat Gan's Safari. A piece fell in The Weitzman Institute of science in Rehovot, on the Tel Aviv beach, at Ramat ha Sharon tennis court.

Our little one that is two and a half has become sadly well-trained with the shelter procedure. Last night when we grabbed her from bed at 10pm and rushed to the shelter she said: "The sirens, and now comes the boom."  Like all of us she became extremely alert to any audio signals.  When an airplane noise woke her up last night, she started crying and said: "Mommy, I am afraid." Asking me to stay with her.

Shabbat is descending on us here in a few hours. I heard on the news that a special radio frequency was set for Shabbat observers. It is called "The silent wave" and will transmit silence only interjected by the rocket alert warnings. The chief Israeli Rabbi spoke now on the radio giving a special permission to leave this radio wave on, to inquire about the shelter at any synagogue and to stop any prayer (including the un-interruptable prayer number 18) if the sirens go off.

The boys and men have entered Gaza. Relatives, coworkers, fathers and sons. I don't know how their mothers and wives could manage to sleep at night.  Even I wake up and check news alerts every few hours.  All that I find myself capable to do right now it to make cholent (hamin) - a traditional soothing Jewish stew that I otherwise would never make during summer.

Together with a restless internal war, there seems to be a political war going on against Israel on an international stage. Unfortunately Israel is very bad at PR. And the conflict that was portrayed as very simple at first (200 Gazans dead, 1 Israeli, therefore Israel is at fault) is far more complex, especially as the Hamas behavior goes against acceptable norms and rules of logic. I always took pride at being liberal and worshiped The New York Times. But now they seem to skew the facts and story. It is horrifying to see the anti-Israeli demonstrations going on in Europe and the US.  By the way, they are not censored by the Israeli TV. Our dear friends around the world, we do need your support now. Thank you to all the Bostonians who went to the pro-Israeli rally yesterday and going today.  And thank you for all the PR work on Facebook. Israel really needs it now.

Life with sirens. Day 3 of the Operation Protective Edge.

Dear friends. There was so much to tell you about our life here in Israel during the last month through the kidnapping, hopeful search, shocking bodies discovery, funerals, appalling group killing of a Palestinian boy, and the rocket exchange that started since then.  But I couldn't find the way and time to tell it right, because as you know everything here in the Middle East is deeply rooted in religion, history, politics and very complicated. You are likely reading it via various news sources. What I thought I will do with the short time I have is to just tell you about our days.

Take Thursday, July 10th, Day 3 of the Operation Protective Edge (Israeli name) and Operation Ramadan the 10th (Palestinian name).

I had an endocrinologist appointment at 8am in the Ichilov Hospital in Tel Aviv, appointment to which I took our daughter with me. As soon as we approach the elevator in the Hospital Building the rocket siren goes off and after a short heart pinch we follow the crowd to the stairs and then ground floor surgery waiting rooms. There is a TV and a few tired people that had likely spent a night there. One of the women carefully rolls her own cigarettes and I point my daughter to this strange old craft just to take the edge of the stress off. I notice that everywhere around the hospital there are freshly made paper signs telling what is the nearest "safe place". We call home and learn that the sirens went off at home as well and my husband had to run to the Mamad (the shelter) with our toddler. After the required 10 minutes of waiting we are back to the elevator where we meet my doctor who is also accompanied by her 11-year old daughter, uncomfortable leaving her at home alone on such days. The girls play, we go through the Dr. appointment and an hour later we are on the way back home.

As we drive through Tel Aviv everything seems perfectly normal, other then the occasional interruption of the radio program with the siren announcements in the various areas of the country. I receive an instant message from my husband that he decided not to send our toddler to her day care that doesn't have a bomb shelter and he asked my parents to come and stay with her during the day. My parents babysit my brother's kids this week in a nearby town and they were on their way to the day care at 8am when the sirens went off this morning. They all heard and saw the explosion in the skies and had to calm down the kids before bringing them to their summer camp that was relocated to a local school with a shelter.

I drop my daughter at home and head to my work in Rosh ha Ayin.  Few people brought kids of various ages with them to work hesitant to leave them home alone. I see an email from our CEO saying that the management understands the circumstances and personal needs we may have nowadays. It encourages us to put the family first.  One of our new employees is from the Ashkelon, the closest large city to the Gaza strip, which comes under rocket attack hourly now. Her husband got Tzav 8 (reservist order to get to the army) and she is staying at home with their two young girls for a few days now. In the afternoon my cell phone flashes the message of another rocket attack on Tel Aviv and surrounding areas. I am worrying about my parents and kids at home rushing to the shelter in our circular stairs. Nadia had prepared all the first aid items in this room instructed by the soldiers that came to her school a few months ago.

Leaving work early as my parents have to go help my brother. People tell me that route 5 is closed as a car with an explosive material has been stopped along it. Apparently police asked people to avoid this area for at least two hours. I am panicking a bit but quickly relived to see that Waze predicts 20 min driving time home.

Later in the afternoon, all kids are home. Our son just returned from a 5-day-long swim camp in the North and is catching up on sleep. We expect a visitor from the past: Julie whose children were together in the Gan Yeladim preschool and then SSDS with our kids. Julie now lives in Seattle but is visiting Israel. Our youngest is anxious to leave home and I dare to take her and drive to pick Julie up from her friends hotel in Tel Aviv praying that there will be no rockets while we are on the road. As Julie enters our car I see that her friend looks familiar - a fellow Newton family that also had a kid on the JCC Swim team.

We spend great time catching up with Julie on the kids stories, our professional steps, new lives in the new places, mutual friends. She calls her husband who is reporting that both her parents and her kids (in the camp) are very alarmed about the situation in Israel and worry for her well-being.  She tries to calm everyone describing her great time at the beach today unspoiled by a bizarre rocket siren and remote view of the explosion in the air.

We got our online food order delivered from a large local chain and I shush my kids to stop talking politics noticing the Arab-looking delivery man that sends a worried looks at our TV screen.

Later on another Newton couple stops by: Riki and Motti, our good old friends whom we met at MyGym on Needham street when our kids were 3 years old. We hear the news of extensive rockets in the South and causalities in Ashdod. Our son's friend posts an image of a burning car that he sees in front of his Ashdod house. Riki, who remembers my hesitation to return to Israel and is surprised that I am still here, asks me whether I feel my heart sink every time I hear the alert news. The war still seems to be far away to be really scary but I do question myself daily whether the Mediterranean pleasures and family proximity seem to outweigh the bear of this never-ending conflict.

No more rocket sirens in our area till next morning. Still I have a hard time sleeping with everything that is going on. At 3am the news message flashes on my cell that there is a suspected infiltration in Eilat and all the beaches are closed. This later turns to be a false alarm.  I calm myself planning what to bring for tomorrow to our toddler's Day care as she is a Shabbat Helper and slowly dose into sleep.