Proud of an Israeli Soldier I Never Knew

     It is the Jewish Press' 25th Anniversary here in Tampa and as I read an article in the paper I began to cry.
The article was about a Tampa Bay "Solidarity" mission to Israel during the Gulf War.  The Tampa mission was the ONLY group to go to and remain in Israel throughout the Scud missile attacks.  The part that made me tear up was when they told of a terrifying moment in their trip.  The 12 American Jews from Tampa, were seated at dinner.  The alarm of an impending missile strike went off and they were forced to abandon their meal and seek refuge at the highest point of the building (to avoid nerve gas).  They all donned their gas masks with one exception.  There was a very young girl, not much older than 18.    She was a soldier in the IDF.  She did not have a gas mask.  Many in the room offered their masks to her.  She refused, choosing instead to potentially offer up her own life to spare the lives of civillians.
     To me THIS IS Israel, Israelis, and every IDF soldier.  To me... THIS is what they stand for.  This is the mentality of the people there.  They would sacrifice anything to spare an innocent life, even if it meant offering up their own instead.  This is what I saw when I lived among them.  These people are kind, and incredibly giving.  They would give you anything they could if you were in need.  I love that about these people.
    Israel, and her people, give hope to the meaning of humanity, chivalry, courage.  They are a people to be truly proud of.  And as I do hold an Israeli citizenship... I am VERY proud to count myself as one among them.
     I may have only been a child of 6, not even an American citizen yet, when this soldier made such a brave choice; but her heart means as much to me now as it did for those 12 American souls in that room in the heart of the Gulf War Crisis.

Happy 25th Anniversary to the Jewish Press here in Tampa!  And thank you for sharing such a touching story.  It was a reminder of the good people I left behind in the land I call my home.

The Bear Over There

I'm sure you've noticed the bear over there.  It's a sad little thing, obviously it holds sentimental value for someone.  Though we're not sure who.  She sits in the corner, almost as if she's been abandoned.  Sad, lonely eyes, unable to tell anyone how she feels.  She's ripped, torn, bandaged and patched up.  She still surviving, but just barely.  Her future is uncertain.  No one is sure how long she will last the way she is going.  But someone, somewhere loves her enough not to let her go.  Though we're not sure who.

This bear is very symbolic for me.  I draw true comparisons  with her.  After all that I have seen and lived though in my life, this is how I feel inside.  This is how I see myself.  A bear that should have been tossed away a long time ago but for some reason, she is still sitting alone in the corner.

Rimes & Reasons Personal & Public Personas

     I always find writing so theraputic. Even if I am writing about nothing at all. I enjoy writing fiction and fact. But I find that when I am completely honest about my life, I hurt people. Why is everyone today so afraid of the truth? It seems to me as though our society today is nothing but lies. Think about it for just a moment. How many times have you lied either to yourself or to someone else today? No matter how tiny the lie seems. How many times this week? Be Honest.

See....

It's a lot. I became very religious a few years back and as a result my concience grew by leaps and bounds. As a result I stopped lying. Completely stopped. As nice as it was to always be honest with people, I also hurt a lot of people.

Sometimes a little white lie stops us from hurting someone. Like not telling a woman she looks fat when she asks, or telling a friend she is smart when she is clearly an airhead. But what good is it doing anyone? Maybe that woman needs to hear she's fat. Maybe it will help her get motivated. Maybe that "airhead" would go back to school or study harder and make more of an effort if SOMEONE would tell her she's not very bright.

I guess that brings me to the title of this post. I know you have noticed that I don't write very much anymore. Mostly that is because if I wrote exactly what I thought and felt, you would be thoroughly amused and entertained, but everyone would hate me.  People don't want to hear the truth.  I wish I could write anonymously.  I wish I could have an audience that reads my words, participates in dialogue, but never really knows who or where I am.

Update

I'm back in the US for the forseeable future. For those of you who don't know, I rushed home back in September after learning that my little sister was expecting a little one of her own!

I am currently living in Hell. Also known as my childhood home of New Port Richey. I work at a Synagogue in South Tampa and I enjoythe work for the most part.

I hate being back on the same continent as my family. Dad is back to his same old miserable self, and basically that part of my life sucks.

My sister is about a week away from giving birth now and I am no closer to deciding if I made the right decision about moving back or not. I am so happy to be able to be here for her and her daughter but I hate this place.

That's the update.

TTFN

A

Random Writings, Short Story

Working Title: Destinies Collided

 

He strolled over as though he owned the entire park.  The confidence of a man much older than his years.  His dark handsome features and striking good looks were not lost on her.  She found herself smiling just a little.  She wondered if it was out of cheerful delight or mild shock.  After all, men like him don’t associate with girls like her.

Not that she was of ill character of course.  She, of average height, blonde hair, green eyes, and a beautiful smile, was actually of quite a resonable character.  She was kind, compassionate, generous, but also firey, a passion for the things and people she cared for that was unmatched by those around her.

No, no, her character was not the problem.  What was clear, however was that they came from two very different worlds.  He the learned scholar, son of an Ivy League man.  Her, the product of a middle class upbringing and the respectable but average education that went with it.  Yes, that was it… it must have been a smile of shock.  But he was so very nice to look at.

As if to confirm her conclusion, he spoke to her, and with shock she smiled again.  They discussed the basics of course, where they both were from, what they had studied, how long they had lived in the area.  With each common answer they found themselves connecting.  She saw something interesting in him.  Something different than other men with his background.

They were enjoying their conversation so much, the young man didn’t even notice when his friends left him behind.  The next thing they knew they were having drinks and playing darts at the bar down the street.  She was enjoying his company immensely and the conversation never let up. 

The had been sitting at the bar, just talking for the better part of an hour.  She just couldn’t stop staring at him.  The chemistry was overwhelming.  She’d never seen such fire in a man like him before.  She was itching to know where it came from.

They continued to talk endlessly about everything, business, politics, religion, football.  She relentlessly teased him about his stuffy lifestyle and how he didn’t fit in with the others at all.  it was at one of these moments he shocked her again.

She was going on about how men of his status couldn’t be bothered with romance, or heat and how most men of his ilk couldn’t even kiss properly.  Before she knew what was happening, this tall, sexy stranger took her face in his hand, looked into her eyes and kissed her.

She thought to herself that she must be dreaming.  He was warm, strong, but not aggressive, and all she could see were flames.  Who was this man, kissing her like nothing else in the world mattered in that moment?  Who was this man?

 

***OK It’s late… To Be Continued

Homeless in Jerusalem

So, since most of you don’t know…

I have been living in Jerusalem for the last 4 months.  I was lucky to find a sublet in a beautiful neighborhood called Rechavia.  I love it here.  It’s close to town, cafes, the old city, an amazing park called Gan Sacher.  It’s pretty much within walking distance to EVERYTHING. 

I have been so happy here.  But alas, it is only a sublet and next week I have to leave.  It has been a nightmare looking for a new place.  I can’t seem to find anything.  It has had me very stressed and even brought me to tears many nights.

I have just starting the packing process.  Trying to keep out only what I will need for the next week.  It is scary and a bit weird packing without knowing where I’m going to be living next week.

I’ve spent two months looking for a place.  I’ve looked all over the internet, talked to friends, random people I’ve met.  NOTHING.  I have no idea what to do.  I hope G-d has a plan cause I’m all out of ideas.

 

XOXO

A

A Poem/Song for My Mom

I miss you in the morning, when my heart wakes up alone.

I miss you in the evening, cause this cold room just don’t feel like home, I miss you.

And it’s all that I can do, I’m just callin’ to say I miss you.

The sun is hot the sky is blue but my heart feels cold, I’m without you.

I sit and have a coffee, I think of things and times that past.

Memories that just don’t fade, last year seems so far away.

How did we get here I can’t tell.  Life jumped up, I tripped and fell.

When I stood my world was gone.  I’m left alone but life moves on.

I’m a little lost, my heart is pained.  My spirit’s here but my soul is drained cause I miss you.

And it’s all that I can do, I’m just callin’ to tell you that I miss you too…