This was more than I had hoped for, “okay,” I responded as he turned to retrieve the biggest box of all. I don’t know whether it is the tent version for an infant or the one for a toddler. “What’s the baby’s name?” the man asked.
Elie told it to him and the man wrote my grandson’s name on a gas mask. I called Amira as soon as I was clear of the area and told her. She was happy. Can you understand the concept that a young mother was happy that her son now had a gas mask? When you can, you’ll understand what it is to be Israeli – at least in part.
I could be philosophical and tell you that the concept that we might need them has not sunk into my brain in any way. I am going through the motions – almost believing that if we prepare, it won’t be necessary and if we aren’t ready, we’ll need to have been.
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