Where Are The Children?

Dreams ran away with me in the early hours of dawn. I was running until I felt I could run no further and knew that I’d be trapped. And when it was just about to happen, a large, strong hand reached out for me and pulled me into a shelter of some kind.

Notwithstanding this nightmare, next morning when I woke up, a good feeling washed over me. I showered, put on my clothes in a hurry and headed to the kitchen, deciding to take refuge in my unwarranted culinary skills by preparing something from scratch - old world recipe from dried goods one finds in the cupboard. All the more, since Wendy and I tried to order home delivery from the supermarket, but every delivery date - attended and unattended - was already full for the next few days. Only the night before Wendy became panicked when she found out we depleted the coffee supply. "I’m willing to risk the sniper for coffee, " she said, but we both knew it was a joke.

I was setting up Mr. Coffee with the last remnants of the beans, when she just walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Wendy!" I greeted her with all the cheerfulness I could muster.

"It is a good morning," she replied smiling, then added, "They got them!"

"It’s over! It’s over!" I caught myself repeating, without even trying to find out who "they" were. Returning to everyday life, which suddenly looked carefree, happened instantaneously.

We took Ariella to school a little late that morning and by the time we got there, the other children were already noisily playing in the playground. It was a chilly morning and we didn’t dress her warm enough. She was shivering a little. While her mother went inside to retrieve a long sleeve sweat shirt she kept in her locker for just such occasions, I kept rubbing Ariella’s arm and asked her if she wanted to go inside.

"No, it’s OK Namami," she set me at ease, "it’s not too bad, I love playing outside."

Today, as I recall the episode, "surviving" comes to mind, but I want to dismiss it very quickly, as that original "S" word always has an ominous meaning for me and it can never compare to anything else... Yet, those few days in October, although in a different place and time, from different motives, proved once again the fragility of life; life, which is suspended between someone who appreciates its value and another, for whom it is meaningless.