There
are no smiles today in the streets of Jerusalem. People are tensed and
anxious. The country is on high alert. While walking back from
Ulpan with Rich, from the edge of the old city to our house, we see young
soldiers and barrage police everywhere.
The
soldiers could be ours sons. They don't look at us. Their eyes
are, instead, piercing each car. Their faces are so tensed that we could
see all their muscles. They know that one moment of distraction could be
the difference between life and death not only for them, but for us as well.
My heart is heavy with anxiety. May HaShem protect all of them and
watches over us all.
Rich and I split up to get our children at their school. I cant wait to
grab Yehuda and bring him home. I hope that Rich would hurry back with
Batya. Police patrols stop the traffic at practically every street.
As I hasten on the sidewalk, I keep finding myself walking along the same bus.
Is it safer to be right next to it than inside? I refused to dwell on
it. I can only think about the prayers we are going to say very soon.
Who is going to live and who is going to die? Who by sword and who by
fire. Who by bullet and who by nails flying from a terrorist bomb?
Who by hate, by so called martyrs?
I keep seeing the faces of our young guardians. I pray that each of them will
come back home safely.
Who from sorrow?
Sara Brownstein