by Masha Rifkin (2007)

Dear Mama,

I had this experience recently that I couldn’t bring myself to tell you on the phone, but I think it’s important that you know – so I thought I’d write you instead. Please just try not to worry.

The other day, the bus pulled up to my stop in Sderot. Right as I was getting off the bus, “tseva adom” started going off – and I think I finally felt what I’ve been hearing so much about – helplessness. The people on the bus gasped, the driver started muttering and swearing under his breath – and I was just stuck on those steps. I didn’t know what to do – do I get off so that the driver can drive away to safety, or do I stay on? Is it safer to stay in the bus? Do I run to a nearby wall? I looked outside and saw a mixture of responses, some ran to an abandoned cement house, others continued walking as if nothing had happened. Who knew what the better choice was? I remembered a story I had heard recently – a woman was walking with her fiancée when the siren went off, she ran to a wall as everyone is taught to do – but her fiancée stayed on the sidewalk. The kassam hit precisely the wall that she was crouching behind. If she had stayed with her fiancée – she would have survived. So what should I do, I thought? It’s amazing the quantity of thoughts your mind can shuffle through in 15 seconds. I got off the bus, and walked through the field to Noam’s house as I always do, repeating to myself “it won’t hit me, it won’t hit me, it won’t hit me” – something I learned from a few locals.

For the first time I was scared, then pissed off, then absolutely enraged. I’ve already interviewed around 20 kids – and they’re stronger than I am, every one. I’ve only dealt with a siren – they’ve dealt with broken windows, torn ligaments, classrooms underneath them collapsing, and still – they rationalize everything – they act as adults do, mimicking their parents. One of my favorites – Slava, a 13 year old, explained to me that he was walking outside with his aunt when he heard the alarm. When I asked if she covered him with her body he laughed and said, “Are you kidding? I’m bigger than her, and she was more afraid than I was, I just pushed her down and said, “tak, uspakoisa, I zhdi”. 15 seconds later, a kassam fell about 20 meters from them. What he didn’t know at the time was that it killed two cousins – 2, and 4 years old, playing outside with a ball. “I told my aunt to go home, and then I ran home too” he explained. He grudgingly admitted that he couldn’t sleep that night, and said that he woke up his mom complaining. He laughed and continued “she said, ‘tak, idi popei vodichku, popisai, I idi spats”. He interrupted his laughter only to tell me seriously that he is not afraid.

There was an 8 year old – Shmuel, who sat, with one leg over the other, explaining with his hands – as I’m sure he’d seen his father do a hundred times. He explained to me that when he hears the alarm in school, they have to either quickly go under their desks – or rush into the hallway. He said that once a kassam fell right outside his house – and he ran outside after to take a look at it. Written across it he told me was “L’Sderot Im Ahava” – To Sderot with love.

Finally – there was Sabrina. 12 years old. Amazing. She told me that she was in the playground with her 4 year old brother, when she heard “tseva adom”. She rushed to the nearest wall, pushed her brother down, and covered him with her body. When I asked her why she did that, she explained in an obvious tone – that’s what they’re taught to do. Can you believe this? Older children are taught to sacrifice themselves for younger children. And they listen, they understand it, they explain it to me with a tone signifying how amazed they are that I’m surprised. It’s amazing even more, because just in this way, an older sister was killed – her brother was left unharmed. Sabrina knows this, everyone knows this – but they continue to do it, because they know it’s right. When I asked her if she cries when she hears the siren, she answered that she hadn’t cried in a few years. When I asked her why, she explained: “A few years ago, a siren went off – and I thought to myself ‘Sabrina, you can cry right now – but it won’t do anything. Go to a safe place, wait the 15 seconds, and then continue with your life – because there’s nothing else you can do.’ And I haven’t cried since”.

Mama this isn’t normal. These kids aren’t kids, they’ve been forced into adulthood, to think things they shouldn’t think for at least another 10 years, to act in ways you’d hardly expect a 40 year old to, they’ve completely lost their childhood. No one comes to do the programs with them that we take for granted – no ballroom dancing, no math school, no gymnastics, no theater. It’s so infuriating! Why? Why have they been robbed of it? Why is no one doing anything? All I want to do is give them a chance to experience childhood – real childhood. I want them to cry, I want them to be protected, I want them to rationalize their crushes, not their lives. We need to raise this money, we need to bring them to the states, to our camp – they’ve worked for it, they deserve it.

These kids are strong, they’ll gain strength from this summer, and they’ll come back and reinvigorate their exasperated friends and parents – they’ll force a surge of energy through the town. More than anything though – they’ll get to say that they didn’t miss out. We owe it to them mama. I knowyou’re insanely busy, but please – get as many people behind this as you can – while they worry about their jobs, grades, and dance competitions, people their age – or children the age of theirs are protecting their brothers with their bodies, and explaining to me the process of correctly protecting yourself from a bomb. I can’t just walk away from them mama – I need help to do something.

Love,
~ Masha