Tonight I went to a vigil for Israel. Four days and the pain is still as constant as the numb feelings, the shock. New details every day highlight more horror. Kidnapped grandparents, decapitated babies, the sheer numbers. It seems too outlandish to even write as fiction.
Despite the horror I’ve seen in the online discourse, the celebrations over the Jewish dead (no matter how many try to deflect the truth with words like “liberation” and “resistance”) it was a relief and a balm to be in a room with so many others who were just as sad, angry, and confused as I was. Jews may be a minority, but this was a clear reminder that we are not alone.
There were three lines, out the door, to get into the vigil, which had at least three full rooms of solidarity.
But the three lines were not only long because of the number of attendees, but because of the security and metal detectors we had to pass through to enter. Even here, congregated to sing and pray for peace, we worry about a peaceful future. Who worries or must take the steps we do for even a chance at peace? A question others, who celebrate freely the violence set against us, would do well to consider.
But despite the security, and the struggle, and the fear, people showed up and stood up. We take the hope where we can this week.
Am Yisrael Chai.
Thank you Jessie, there are few things that are calming the past few days but reading your words were. Thank you for sharing. Am Yisrael Chai
Perfectly put, Jessie. Our hearts are collectively broken. Am Y’isroel chai!