The day after

 It is very easy to get addicted to silence. How strange that in one moment everything is back to the way it was. Not really. On Thursday I went to the funeral in Jerusalem and I was very afraid that just before the ceasefire there would be missiles on Jerusalem, my daughter asked me to think twice about taking such a risk, but I went anyway. It was quiet but on the way back the sky above me was filled with the fireballs of Iron Dome.

At night there were still alarms until ten to two and from two at night the silence began. It's temporary silence, we all know that.

I no longer hear the noises of the shelling and interceptions of the Iron Dome, the crashes of the rockets and all those sounds of war that were around here.

Tomorrow I will go see my grandchildren who have finally come out into the fresh air after 11 days.

I feel terrible and very sad when I see the pictures from Gaza, the simple people there are the real victims of a terrorist organization that has taken over their lives. The Hamas hides under their houses and from there their missiles are fired at us, they use children and women as human shields. All the cement and concrete and money they received to rebuild life there they poured into the purchase of weapons, rockets and missiles.

Here too people have lost their lives and their homes, but we have a government that will always take care of us and not abandon us. There they are lost because of Hamas. We provide them with electricity, water, and treat their wounded in our hospitals.

It's very hard to be the bad guys in this story, but it's important to remember that there is no country in the world where the civilian population has been bombarded for years with missiles and rockets. We have no other way to protect ourselves.

I very much hope that my next posts will be about shopping trips that my granddaughter loves so much. I promised her this  what we shall do after the virus disappeared.