Real Life Under Fire

A local shelter, I waited in a couple of times

I thought I could write a Baile Rochel about real life under fire, but although I do find some humor, it's just too serious a situation. I planned a Baile Rochel before Israelis were murdered, but now... I can't ignore the tragedies, even when I can mock/satirize what is ironically enjoyable. ... it's not that life has been dull, but...

This isn't in Shiloh, but I did
visit it. Some people spend the
night in their local shelter, so
they don't have to wake up and run
to safety. Especially those with young  
children.

No doubt you're aware that I live in Israel, so you must be aware that we're under attack. Iran has been launching dangerous rockets at Israel, destroying homes and murdering innocent Israelis. Many Israelis have been injured, too. 

Some have been injured trying to get to shelter. One old man even died on his way to safety. Most Israelis don't have convenient shelters in or near their homes. We're among them, unfortunately, but I'm so grateful that we had our house built extraordinarily well insulated with stronger walls and foundations than standard. There are a few spots, away from windows, where my husband and I feel safe, certainly safer than we'd be going to a neighborhood shelter.

On Shabbat, just hours after the war began, as I was walking to a Torah class, suddenly a neighbor called out that there had been an alert. She's the mother of young children and used the emergency situation to turn on her phone. I was just a few steps from the shelter pictured at the top of the post, so I walked in. One entered with a bottle of whiskey, so of course I requested some-- which he happily poured for me. By the time it was affirmed that there had been an "all clear," lots of other neighbors had entered, and we had a lovely time together. 

Once it was permitted, I continued on my way to the class. The neighbor who had agreed to give it was surprised that we had shown up and were waiting for him. When it was over, there was another alert. That gave me ten minutes to return to the shelter I had been in previously. No whiskey that time, but great company. After the all clear, I walked home.

True story, Shushan Purim Sameach