There's No Place Like Home

My country is under under attack. A constant barrage of rocket attacks have become the routine of daily life in Sderot, a city in the South of Israel. Twelve years of rockets sent by Palestinian terrorists, day in day out, sending panic stricken children and families running for shelter. No civilized country would stand for this as long as Israel has.

In the past week, the terrorists have expanded their scope and missiles have been falling in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Gush Etzion, Kiryat Malachi, Beersheva and Rishon L'Tzion, just to name a few. Sons, sons-in-law, husbands, fiances, brothers and fathers all over the country have been called up for duty in Gaza, working around the clock to protect us, the citizens. Mothers, wives, daughters, daughters-in-law and sisters, are staying up all night worrying about the whereabouts and the safety of their loved ones.

 

This week, a couple old friends of mine said" Cigal, why don't you pack your family up and come back home?(to Montreal)...Leave that craziness behind". With three little ones under the age of three, I have to admit, I stopped to think about what that would be like for me and my family...

When I was here, the summer before I made Aliyah, suicide bombers were blowing up buses left and right, leaving dozens of casualties and broken families on a weekly, sometimes daily basis. I remember the day I was getting on the plane going back to Vancouver(my home at the time), there was a double suicide bombing (ie a suicide bomber waited for two buses to be next to each other before detonating). The bloodbath was indescribable in words. I remember some of the casualties being young children and babies. And there I was, at Ben Gurion Airport, waiting for my flight to Vancouver. I remember the feelings of devastation that took over the very core of my being. I remember asking myself: "Why the hell am I going back to Vancouver when my people's blood is continually being spilled here? Why is my blood redder than theirs? I should be nowhere else but here!". I remember like it was yesterday, sitting on that plane, crying my eyes out for most of the flight and asking myself that very question. By the end of the flight, I had made my decision. The following summer I would return to Israel and never leave again (unless for a visit).

I have been here for some of the Second Intifada, the Expulsion of Jews from Gush Katif(Gaza),the Second Lebanon War, the first Gaza War (Operation Cast Lead) and now, Operation Pillar of Defense in Gaza again...But now there are three young, precious and innocent souls in my care that will be living and facing these kinds of realities, too.  It saddens me to no end to think that my not even 3 year old knows what a saferoom and a shelter are. That he's been instructed by his preschool teachers as well as by me on what to do in the case of an air raid siren. And this is his reality. It is the reality of every baby, child, teenager and adult that lives in our beloved country.

 

So, in answer to your question dear friends in Montreal, NO. I will not be packing up my family and going back "home". I AM HOME. Life can be really hard here. It can even be scary to live here sometimes. But as Dorothy so eloquently put it, "There's no place like home".

With Love,

 

Cigal