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Life on the Border with the Gaza Strip

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Tents on the Gaza border

Mar 31, 2018, 2:05 PM

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A Tent of Light and Love — Our Tent of Light and Love

We had our lovely Seder. There were too many people for the dining room, so we hired a tent. It was full of light and laughter and love of family, community, tradition. And most of the time I felt calm and secure — occupied with dancing, rocking babies, taking pictures, eating.

Most of us felt secure. But not all of us. Some of us plugged bravely through the evening, keeping concerns of worst-case-scenario, a mere whisper: only those closest to her knew she had spent the day thinking up emergency exit routes. Just in case there was rocket fire. Instructions given to her brother: “If there’s a Red Alert, I’ll take the older one, you grab the baby and go under the table. Can’t have the carriage in the aisle — it’ll be too congested to carve a quick path through the chairs.”

While on the other side of the border, less than two kilometers away, there were very different tents, where tragedies were actually happening. People who have been suffering for too long, lacking true leadership to lead them out of THEIR “Egypt,” their “bondage,” were getting killed.

And our children, instead of being at Seder dinners with their families, were on the lines protecting us in our tent, doing their best to prevent my daughter’s worst-case-scenario from materializing.

We are all victims of leaders who have not yet found the courage to solve this: to let all of the cousins in this region sit in their own tents: in peace of mind and body and soul.

Don’t tell me there is no one to talk to. It’s not about that. It’s about the price. It can be solved.

About the Author

The writer (aka "Zioness on the Border" on social media) is a mother and a grandmother who since 1975 has been living and raising her family on Kibbutz Nirim along the usually paradisiacal, sometimes hellishly volatile border with the Gaza Strip. She founded and moderates a 14K-strong Facebook group named "Life on the Border with Gaza". The writer blogs about the dreams and dramas that are part of border kibbutznik life. Until recently, she could often be found photographing her beloved region, which is exactly what she had planned to do at sunrise, October 7th. Fortunately, she did not go out that morning. As a result, she survived the murderous terror infiltrations of that tragic day, hunkering down in her safe room with her 33-year-old son for 11 terrifying hours. So many of her friends and neighbors, though, were not so lucky. More than she can even count. Adele was an educator for 38 years in her regional school, and has been one of the go-to voices of the Western Negev when escalations on the southern border have journalists looking for people on the ground. On October 7, her 95% Heaven transformed into 100% Hell. Since then she has given a multitude of interviews, going abroad on seven missions in support of Israel and as an advocate for her people. In addition to fighting the current wave of lies and blood libels about the Jewish state, she is raising money to help restore their Paradise so that members of her kibbutz can return to their homes on the border, where they can begin to heal. If you wish to learn more about how you can help her and her community return home, please feel free to drop her a line.

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