THE DAM BROKE

Three times in the past three weeks we experienced fear.  It was not a known fear. We did  not recognized it as such. It was a feeling that we both felt but neither one of us understood or was able to give it a name. I call it fear for lack of a better word.

It started with a suspicious object  (cheftz chashud).  This occurs often in Israel.  An object is left unattended somewhere, an alert citizen calls the police who calls the army who calls the bomb squad who blows it up. Most often then not it is a box of cookies that fell out of a shopper hand or a bag of clothes.  One gets used to the traffic being halted and causes a larger and more cumbersome traffic jam.  Sometimes, however, it is the real thing. It is a bomb.

On the last week of May, in the stairwell next to ours, was one of these real things.  It was a homemade bomb and the squad arrived fully dressed while the street was blocked off.  Willie took some pictures and after the initial unknown excitement-type feeling calmed down, the street was cleared and we were left with a bit of a new anxiety and new pictures.

We have no idea who put it there. Only that it was diffused and that it had a brother - one more in the back of the building.

On June 2nd, at 3:25 am, we were waken by a flash of light and a bomb sound.  Later we found out that two large neighborhood on Nahariya's hills heard the sound.  We set up in bed dazed from the jolt.  Searching for glasses and teeth and housecoats, preparing to run to the shelter under the building in case of sirens, we saw the lights going on around us.  The sirens did not sound.  But the police closed off the street once more, and when the blue and red turning lights finely left without explanations, we fell asleep again.  It was a troubled light-sleep. In an hour we were jolted again to a loud sound, only this time it was the daily garbage truck.  We did not sleep again. We took no pictures either.

Yesterday, June 5th, we planned to join a trip (tiyul) to Jerusalem.  Our group of volunteers was going for a full day walk in the Capital of Israel. We knew that we need to sleep well  during the night before the "tiyul" and went to bed early.  At 5:45 we woke up.  No sirens, but something was amiss. While I showered Willie investigated. The street was blocked off.  Police, Fire Tracks, Ambulances, the works... Chefets Chashud ...  This time they brought the little robot that dis-whatever it does so the bomb will not explode.

Meanwhile, in the sky above, there are jets flying from the North to the South and back again. The Jets fly above us only if some important dignitaries are having talks in Lebanon, Syria, Russian countries or China.  None are suppose to be flying this week. But here they go...

Our anxiety levels are rising. We phone our brave group leaders and tell them to wait for us with the tour bus, we'll arrive as soon as they will clear our street. They understand, they live here all their lives.  We are cleared by 6:45 am. The tour bus meant to leave at 6:55. We catch a taxi passing by, quickly giving our destination, arriving at the bus on time. breathing... breathing... sigh... breathing...

The tour to Jerusalem was outstanding. We visited areas we had not known before. We had private audience with the highest Judge of the Supreme Court of Israel (he and 100 of us). We climbed ancient stairs and saw 150 years old Eucalyptus tree and the first ever houses outside the old city. We ate, we laughed, we danced in the bus we....returned home after 8:00 pm.

In the sky above us were two big jets.  Again?

The phone rang as we entered the door.  Our friend checked up on us.
"What's with the jets?" I asked
"Don't you know?" my friend replied.  "These are the medical help for the badly wounded Syrians"

What??????

Apparently, the Israelis set field hospitals all along the Syrian border at the Golan Heights to treat the wounded. They don't check who is a rebel, who is a soldier or who is a civilian... they treat the wounded. The very badly wounded are taken by the jets to the Israeli hospitals.  One young man arriving yesterday in our hospital in Nahariya, had his leg blown up and was in need of a breathing apparatus. All other hospitals in Northern Israel are treating badly wounded soldiers and civilians from the Syrian Holocaust. That is how the Israelis treat their enemies along the borders - as human being who need help, as neighbors.

Israel truly wants peace.

I slept well, except for the cat that pounced on me half the night.  When I woke up at 5:00 am this morning, I was aching all over. After a few minutes the dam finely broke. I started to cry.  I was crying for the people around me, for the neighbors beside me and the ones living in this beautiful city. I cried for Israel and for the entire Middle East that seems to be going up in flames. I cried for the young and the old who are in the middle of bloody conflicts in the countries surrounding us.  I cried for the peace the seems to slip through our  efforts no matter how hard we try and how diligently we are willing to give up land and stop building. I cried for the Messiah to return.

Peace will come and the war will stop in the Middle East only when Messiah arrives. No one else can bring it on. No negotiations, no agreements, no talks. Not even Israeli medical teams who sacrifice their lives to heal the ones who are on the enemy sides.

Pray for the Peace of Jerusalem, says the prophet. He knew what he was writing about, his call is still valid.  When Jerusalem will be at peace, the world will be at peace with itself, and the wars will stop, everywhere.

Even so Messiah, please come soon.

Praying, Orith.