Operation Protective Edge
By Jessica Shankman
ENP Volunteer Summer 2014, via Career Israel
Student at University of of Minnesota
It is hard to express in so many words my feelings about this week in Lod ENP center. I went to work last Tuesday hoping that the talks of rocket attacks could not be true. I’ve never been in Israel for times as these, and didn’t want to think that these threats may actually come true. That day at ENP, the kids planned to do some center beautification projects—specifically, clean up the garden and do a graffiti mural outside the center gates. As we began doling out materials, and the kids’ spirits were high, suddenly movement outside came to a halt. Just as enthusiastically as they had headed outside to start the project, the kids were pushing themselves back in to the narrow hallway, shouting something about sirens.
At first I registered the events as what must have been a joke. Never have sirens been sounded in Lod (so I read). And even so, the kids were not panicked. Startled and shocked, yes—but not the kind of panic that I had always imagined to happen whenever I heard about rockets in Israel from America. I, on the other hand, was frozen in shock. I must not have been hiding it as well as I had hoped, because several of the kids came up to me and asked how I was doing or reassured me that it would be alright. I caught myself thinking how backwards this scene was! I, the older mentor, was being reassured by 13 year old kids. As the sirens finally ceased, we walked outside to explore the damage. One of the kids immediately pulled me to the center of the sidewalk and told me to look up. Sure enough, there was a thick line of smoke where the rocket had been intercepted by the iron dome.
My heart beating inside my throat, I was sure that the day was over. Everyone would go home to check on their family. The kids would be shaken and the project would be rescheduled for another day. But as I was trying to gather bits of information about what had just happened, the boys were already laughing and grabbing their brushes, buckets and rakes up from where they had dropped them. This was one of the most inspiring things I’ve ever witnessed. I am so thankful that I was with ENP when the status of Israel changed and rockets began to be fired. Seeing the reactions of these children and being with them to work on beautifying the center became a clear symbol for the life that Israeli’s live. One moment, violence and fear; the next, peace and creation. After things had settled down, I asked one of the boys how they were feeling about everything that had happened. He shook his head and said “What can we do? These are things that we cannot control. We must push through and move forward.” I have learned so much more than I could have imagined from the kids at the Lod ENP center.
ENP Volunteer Summer 2014, via Career Israel
Student at University of of Minnesota
It is hard to express in so many words my feelings about this week in Lod ENP center. I went to work last Tuesday hoping that the talks of rocket attacks could not be true. I’ve never been in Israel for times as these, and didn’t want to think that these threats may actually come true. That day at ENP, the kids planned to do some center beautification projects—specifically, clean up the garden and do a graffiti mural outside the center gates. As we began doling out materials, and the kids’ spirits were high, suddenly movement outside came to a halt. Just as enthusiastically as they had headed outside to start the project, the kids were pushing themselves back in to the narrow hallway, shouting something about sirens.
At first I registered the events as what must have been a joke. Never have sirens been sounded in Lod (so I read). And even so, the kids were not panicked. Startled and shocked, yes—but not the kind of panic that I had always imagined to happen whenever I heard about rockets in Israel from America. I, on the other hand, was frozen in shock. I must not have been hiding it as well as I had hoped, because several of the kids came up to me and asked how I was doing or reassured me that it would be alright. I caught myself thinking how backwards this scene was! I, the older mentor, was being reassured by 13 year old kids. As the sirens finally ceased, we walked outside to explore the damage. One of the kids immediately pulled me to the center of the sidewalk and told me to look up. Sure enough, there was a thick line of smoke where the rocket had been intercepted by the iron dome.
My heart beating inside my throat, I was sure that the day was over. Everyone would go home to check on their family. The kids would be shaken and the project would be rescheduled for another day. But as I was trying to gather bits of information about what had just happened, the boys were already laughing and grabbing their brushes, buckets and rakes up from where they had dropped them. This was one of the most inspiring things I’ve ever witnessed. I am so thankful that I was with ENP when the status of Israel changed and rockets began to be fired. Seeing the reactions of these children and being with them to work on beautifying the center became a clear symbol for the life that Israeli’s live. One moment, violence and fear; the next, peace and creation. After things had settled down, I asked one of the boys how they were feeling about everything that had happened. He shook his head and said “What can we do? These are things that we cannot control. We must push through and move forward.” I have learned so much more than I could have imagined from the kids at the Lod ENP center.
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