Nine AM, Late as usual! I hurried to the main gate of our community praying that I would catch a ride out of Kfar Darom quickly so that I could get to my statistics class in the university I attend in Ashkelon (aprox. a 45 min. drive away). Bag on back, apple in hand, upon arriving at the entrance / exit I barely had a chance to say good morning to the soldier at the guard post when he quickly got up from the chair he was comfortably sitting on and brought it to me. Being at the end of my ninth month (Yes, by the time I write my next article I may have some exciting news to share about a new addition to our family and our extended Kfar Darom family) the soldiers all take the situation very seriously and make sure to tell me to sit down, drink and if I wasn’t already holding a half eaten apple they would probably give me one of theirs.
On my way back from Ashkelon, so I don’t have to wait in the sun in order to catch a ride with one of the residents of Kfar Darom, the soldiers at the checkpoint usually order an army jeep to come and pick me up. They insist on driving me to the entrance of our portable home. They, having served here for almost a year, are friends of my husbands and have eaten Shabbot meals in our home.
The genuine love and respect that the soldiers and residents harbor towards one another is not portrayed in the media, etc. Instead, many journalists try to show that the soliers do not want to serve in Yesha (Judea, Samaria and the Gaza Strip). I recently read an article that was written in a magazine published by the Israeli IDF. Although many of the details of the article were incorrect, it was amazing and inspiring to read the quoted parts. The journalist had interviewed the officers of the soldiers guarding over Kfar Darom. Each question, however protagonistic it may have been, was answered in a most beautiful and honest way. One of the officers when asked if it wasn’t a pain serving here for so long answered: “…It is true sometimes it passes through the mind, and you say ‘What a pain’, but immediately the thought passes by, and at the bottom line nobody complains. The connection between the soldiers is great, the connection between the officers and the soldiers is great, the connection between the soldiers and the residents is great, and most importantly – we strongly believe in what we are doing here, and that is what helps us and pushes us to continue forward with the same high moral.” After I read the article a big smile came on my face I knew from personally talking to the soldiers how they felt, but now everybody in the country would know how the soldiers truly feel.
Just last night the entire community gathered in the same home that was hit by a mortar shell (which landed and exploded in their toilet) two weeks ago. We gathered together there for a Sheva Brachot. Sheva Brachot are seven parties made for a newly wed couple immediately after their wedding. Over delicious food, singing and drumming, we all celebrated the building of a new family in Israel. While singing one of the traditional songs, we heard explosions outside. Several people went to check what was going on. The rest of us stayed in our places, continuing to sing so as not to ruin the festive atmosphere. After a couple of minutes of inner turmoil for everyone, one of the men came back declaring that all was OK – it was just Arab gun shots!!
Ironically, we have come to the point where gunshots are small business. Even so, while sitting in the Cohen’s house and singing to the newly wed couple it was comforting to know that the soldiers – our brothers in Kfar Darom – were with G-D’s help guarding over us.
This entry was posted
on Sunday, June 3rd, 2001 and is filed under series.