DIALOG.......................
I am indebted to Mark Anshan, Chair of ARZENU for this report.
"Now to the session this morning at the Jewish Agency meeting. A most
powerful and emotional one. We heard from an incredible panel of Israelis.
The Chair of the Settlement Community in the West Bank (let's not worry for
the moment about the politics of settlements) spoke about the conflicts his
community faces each time they are struck by a terrorist attack and how they
cope and share their grief. A mother, Shachar Loshinksy, who lives in
Maaleh Adumin with her family, expressed most poignantly how she and her
husband try and comfort and support her children (who have lost friends to
terror and live on the edge each day). Her remarks and a letter her
daughter wrote to family members is attached to this message. With her and
her daughter's permission, I am sharing it with all of you. Her email
message forwarding to me her remarks and letter are below.
Another mother from Tel Aviv described similar struggles.
A JAFI staff member and reservist recalled his experience of being called up
and participating in the Jenin incursion. His unit was present when the
other unit of Israeli soldiers fighting alongside them were ambushed and
blown up by bombs detonated as they entered an empty building.
A victim who survived the Moment Cafe bombing in March described his
experience and what he has faced since the bombing. His left arm was
surgically reattached and resides in a cage as the long process of healing
is underway. He almost died. Through sheer strength and adrenalin he got
himself out to the street where he screamed for someone to attach a
tourniquet to his arm so we would not bleed to death. He then examined his
body and found a hole in the back of his head. He will hopefully recover
fully from these injuries. But for the rest of his life he will carry with
him the screw that is embedded in his chest next to his heart and that is
too dangerous to remove.
And finally, Seth Mandell, the father of 13 year old Koby, who with his
friend, was viciously murdered last year by 3-6 terrorists some 300 yards
from his home while hiking (having skipped school for the afternoon).
Dental records were required to identify these two young, innocent boys. We
all cried as we listened to Seth describe the struggle that he, his wife and
three children face each day as they try to carry on but cannot forget Koby.
This was for me the most touching and emotional session I have attended in
all my years of participating in meetings and educational/program events.
I am sharing this with you because there is a message for all of us. As the
panelists so eloquently told us - we must continue our support, we must come
to Israel and be with them and we must carry these messages and stories back
to our communities so that our fellow Jews in the diaspora understand the
existential threat facing Israel and the responsibility we all have in
insuring that Israel continues as our Jewish State.
Our Israeli brothers and sisters are there for us. We must be there for
them."
_______________________________________
FOLLOWING ARE THE COMMENTS OF A MOTHER AND DAUGHTER.
Jewish Agency General Assembly Panel Discussion-
“Ordinary Israelis in Abnormal Times”/ Shachar Loshinsky- parent.
I am speaking to you today with a sense that whatever I have to say will
pale in comparison to the feelings that Seth Mandel has to share. I would
like to convey my condolences to him and his family and say that we are all
aware that “there but for the Grace of G-d” could go any of us sitting here.
My family’s personal experiences with terrorism have been, Thank G-d,
vicarious, but still too close for comfort. My husband, Shlomo, and I have
four children. Our oldest daughter, Ayelet, is just 18 years old, but has
already had experiences that certainly do not belong in the life of a normal
18-year-old. In September 1997, four days after she began high school,
Ayelet was on the midrachov when there was a double suicide bombing there.
Her new friend from school, Yael Botwin, was killed. If it weren’t for the
fact that Ayelet waited a block away for another friend to come back from
the bathroom, she would have been standing with Yael when she was killed.
Just this year, Ayelet’s boyfriend of several years had a sister seriously
injured in the Sbarro bombing. Ayelet virtually moved into the hospital to
help care for her during her weeks there, later helping during the months of
recovery at home. This same boyfriend studies at the pre-army yeshiva in
Atzmona and was there just several months ago when a terrorist armed with
grenades and guns infiltrated the school and attacked the boys sitting and
studying with their rabbi. Five friends were killed and scores were
injured. Ayelet spent the night after the attack in the hospital with the
wounded, and came home 30 minutes before Shabbat after having attended three
consecutive funerals of boys her age.
There is nothing that prepares you for parenting a child who has matured
beyond her years through experiences that we, as adults, find impossible to
comprehend. Nothing prepares you for parenting children that are not living
a normal childhood, but who find inner strength that we, the parents, find
comforting. We look at these children of ours, at the risks they encounter
in their daily lives and at the amount of pain and suffering they have
witnessed, and marvel at their ability to dance, sing and clown around in
the face of all they have been through.
I would have to say that for us as parents, the key word would have to be
“balance”. Trying to find balance has been the most difficult and
challenging of our parenting experiences.
We try to find the balance between letting our children have fun and
limiting their movement so they will be out of harm’s way.
We try to find the balance between what we might consider real danger and
what is simply the risk of leaving the house, knowing full well that the
choice is illusory and that the danger is random and can be found on the
midrachov downtown as well as in a supermarket in Kiryat Yovel.
We try to find the balance between a comforting and relaxed home environment
and the often-stormy reality right outside the door.
We try to find the balance between the occasionally incapacitating fear and
the need to keep going- to go to work, send the kids to school in Jerusalem
by bus, maybe even occasionally go out for an evening of enjoyment.
We try to find the balance between the mundane, banal, real needs of
everyday life, such as remembering to stop at the grocery to buy milk, and
the surreal pictures of horrors we see almost daily on the news.
We try to find the balance between the frightening reality that living in
Israel can be, and the reasons we came here- to raise our children as free
and independent Jews in their own homeland.
This balance is often evasive and we don’t always find it. New situations
arise nearly every day that set our tenuous balance off kilter and leave us
reeling and trying to stand steady again.
We do not have answers. What we have is the never ending hope that this
situation is temporary and that the day will come soon that our children
will live childhoods not marred by events that turn them into adults before
their time.
Letter from Hila Loshinsky, 16 years old, to her friends and family abroad.
Wednesday, June 19, ?2002
The terror attacks just don’t end- do they…
Yesterday, I got to school, and started my day by hearing a bomb explode
near my school, and the sounds of ambulances rushing to the place to try to
save as many people as they can.
The rest of the day went by slowly while we were all talking about this
terror attack, and the conclusions and things we can do about it.
The whole day, I’ve been getting phone calls from friends and people I haven
’t spoken to for years, asking if I’m O.K.
My mother picked me up form school because she was too scared to let me go
on the bus home, even though I have been changing buses in the French Hill
stop since there have been so many attacks near my bus stop downtown.
And then, today, after I finally began to get over yesterday’s bus bomb that
killed 19 people, I got a phone call from a friend who called to see if I’m
OK, because there was another attack- this time right near my bus stop at
French Hill.
What am I supposed to do now? Just stay home all day? Last year, my school
was in the center of town, and because it was dangerous there, they moved to
a new building near the Patt intersection where yesterday’s attack took
place. So, now that that’s dangerous, are we going to move again?
And the bus stop… I used to get off to change buses for the Maale Adumim
bus at the bus stop near Sbarro- in the center of town. But, there were lots
of attacks there- on the midrachov, in Sbarro, near the Mashbir department
store, the first girl suicide bomber, shootings and much more. So, I moved
to the French Hill bus stop since my parents didn’t want me to be downtown.
Now that that place is dangerous, am I going to move again?
As I see it, running away is not a solution! So, what is the solution to
all this? People are getting killed and wounded every day! How should we
move on with our life when we don’t know who’s next? I don’t know if my
best friend might get killed in her supermarket tomorrow morning! I don’t
know if my teacher might get killed in her car! I don’t know if someone
from my family might get killed waiting at a bus stop or playing basketball
on the court! So, how am I supposed to move on?
In the mishna it says you should always live your day as if it is your last.
Should I really? Where are these answers? I know there are people that are
asking where the Kadosh Baruch Hu is, and why He is doing this. I know
where He is, and I believe I know the reason, too. But, I just want to
know- until when? I think that the hardest thing in this whole situation is
the fact that we just don’t know anything. The not knowing what will
happen, to who, and where…
Well, I hope for good news, and for yeshu’a and ge’ula shlema bekarov! Have
a good week! And be’ezrat Hashem, I hope my kids will NEVER need to feel
this way, and never need to write a letter like this one!
Love you soooo much,
Hila