Hello friends,
I haven’t written you a letter in a couple of weeks because I didn’t know what to say. The only thing on my mind right now is the fate of the Jewish people. Every time I sat down to write, all I could think about were the murdered and the missing. The only thing in my head was the attacks on Jews worldwide. I was angry and fearful and hurt that the world seemed so ready for this moment to say what they really thought about the Jews.
I didn’t want to write anything because it felt useless. There are slightly more than a thousand of you here, which isn’t much in the grand scheme of things. But then I read a poem from someone whose friend was killed in Kibbutz Be’eri on October 7th. The hope and love that Luca M Damiani infused into his words reminded me that if even one person reads my words and is changed by them, then I’ve done a good thing. I want to share his poem with you now, which was first published by the Jewish Book Council. It’s called The Israeli-Arab Gardener. (And if you want to read more from the Jewish Book Council’s ongoing series in response to that Black Saturday, click here.)
You killed me in my kibbutz of Be’eri. You came at sunrise shooting hate in your cowardly way. You killed me, but not my children. They are alive. You killed me. But not my love, nor my soul. I am here standing in front of you, and I still have compassion for you, for your brainwashed misery. I am here, Untouchable to your bullets, your missiles passing through me, your rockets cannot bother me any longer. I am coming, you can be certain. I can move fast. You cannot see me. I can get you. I will not take you down with hate. I will not take you down with weapons. I will not take you down with anger. But I will take you down with love. With kindness. And with life. I will seed your strip. I will make it a huge forest. I will bring life to what you kill. You claimed to fight for Palestine, but you fight only for your evil aim, and you must be stopped once and for all. I will seed all the tunnels you have built, so that trees will grow in them, breaking all the walls of hate you have constructed. The roots will grab your weapons and will crack them down breaking them in small pieces, like your spines of vile actions full of dirty propaganda. The tree trunks will push you out and all your hidden quarters will be broken. The fruits will smash onto your heads, making your brain and your heart (yes, you still have one deep inside) to re-connect. You are not sure what is happening, but this is different and you know it. The grass will take over all the crumbles you have created, blaming others as you always do. The steady bouganvillea will hug all the souls of the human shields you have cowardly used. The sea will rise and will take you from the side, bringing a new beginning with waves of re-construction. You cannot see me, but I am here. All the Gods are by my side, you need to bend down now and become soil. A soil that will need to bring green life to more plants and flowers that are needed everywhere. The strip will be transformed into a green forest, a woodland in the surrounding desert, an oasis of life and death no more. All the civilians of the strip, are now free to move to the State of Palestine. The State of Israel is next to it, and we are all throwing flowers to one another. There will be no more space for hate, no more space for wars, no more space for pain. The strip will become a wonderful oasis, as a new Jerusalem. People from everywhere will gather there to pray and love. We will all walk and pray and plant some more. The strip will be for everyone, in remembrance of all the lives that were lost, and in awe of what love can do and transform. Palm trees, dates, avocados, coconuts. Pine-apples, grapes and water. The strip will have it all, forever and ever in peace.
This has been an unfathomably difficult month. I still find myself crying at random times or falling into hopeless despair. I am afraid for my people. I am afraid for myself. I don’t understand how or why the world can hate us like this. The Jewish people are alone in this. But we are a nation of extraordinary resiliency. We will survive this just as we have survived all the horrors that came before. We will create life from death once more.
Until next time,
Yardena
WEEKEND POTPOURRI:
Currently on repeat because even though the world feels like it’s falling apart, there is still beauty to be discovered. In this case, beauty is this impeccable cover that might be even better than the original.
There is also still humor in the world, as in this completely real and not at all satirical statement from Windex on the state of Israel and Palestine.
And sometimes all you need to do to feel better is look at some weird and wonderful paper mâché animal art. I particularly like the manatee at the laundromat.
At other times, like with the mystery of Florida’s flamingos, nature is weird and wonderful all on its own.
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