at the point of a knife...

 
 הלב נקרע.
אביתר בורובסקי ז"ל, עוד קרבן של ה"טרור השקט" ביהודה ושומרון, הובא היום למנוחות.
יהי זכרו ברוך.
אנחנו נמשיך להיאבק עד שה"טרור השקט" יחוסל.


Now that we b"H live here, i find these horrible incidents far harder to deal with. particularly the ones that involve the mourning of or for small children. our own children already are scared of arabs, nervous about the possibility of war, and ask for reassurance. all i can tell them is that Hashem is in control, and He decides what will happen when and to whom. I do not think that they find this hugely reassuring, and to tell you the truth sometimes i don't either.

It makes me think about these courageous, terrified, trusting, holy families who live in far more dangerous areas than ours, who daily tread the fine line between bitachon and histadlus, between life and death, between fear and foolishness. What do they tell their children? I assume that their children cannot help but know that they live their lives on the razor-edge of safety, that they cannot assume that someone driving out of the yishuv will return intact. Do they feel pride and safety, because they are doing a mitzvah in settling God's Land? Do they feel fear and trepidation every time, suffering every minute without relief? Do they live in a bubble of trust, believing that they and all they love will always be safe, that each incident is an aberration, a statistical abnormality from off the bell curve, and that it rarely happens?

all there is, is silence.