We received this letter from our daughter-in-law Goldie Marans, who lives
in Jerusalem. She and our son, Israel Marans, and five grandchildren settled
in Israel 17 years ago.
Rabbi Arnold B. and Zipporah Marans
I am tired. I am tired of turning on the news. I am tired of getting phone calls, from those here in Israel. Phone calls that ask, "Where are the kids?" The phone calls mean something has happened again. The "beep-beep-beep" on the radio, interrupting regular programming, means it has happened. Again. And again.
I am not talking about the daily shots fired in the Hebron Hills, on Psagot, Gush Katif, and places too numerous to number. I mean the shots that find a target. I mean the shots that were not supposed to happen.
The government, we are told, has a "profile" of the assassins. "Terrorists," we are told, are young. They are under 30. They are single. They are "known" commodities. Not this time. The man who injured over 20 innocent people this week, and killed 8 of them, was married. He was the father of five. He was 35 years old and steadily employed. He did not fit the profile at all.
I am tired. Our relatives and friends from nearby suburbs are under daily fire. The 15 minute trip to Jerusalem must now be weighed. Is it worth the risk? Will I, for example, leave home today and find my name tomorrow on the mounting list of the newly dead? Will I be a statistic on today's news?
We hoped that by electing Sharon we would send a message. The message being, "Enough. We will not take this any more." But it didn't work. We hoped that our so-called "partners in peace" would one day choose to live with us in peace. But this has not happened either.
I am tired. I am tired of meeting people in the street and seeing the daily pain that surrounds us. Yesterday, I saw an old acquaintance on the street. It was 16 years since I had last seen him. I asked, "How are you?" Then I asked, "How are your sons, the soldiers?" "Baruch Hashem," (thank God) he said.
And this is how we are. I gave a neighbor a lift yesterday. She is a mother and a grandmother. Last month her first granddaughter was married. Her children are here, living in Yattir, Dolev, and Bat Ayin. As we sat in the car, the news came over the radio. And as the deaths were announced, we sat in the car and sobbed. We wept together.
We wept because we are tired of having our people slaughtered, and we wept because our people are being killed just because they are Jews in a Jewish homeland. We wept and prayed for peace.
Goldie Marans