Ashkelon Israel Hit by Rockets

Residents Brace for Sirens, Miracles and a Quiet Night

I am a special education teacher in Ashkelon, where I've lived since 2000 with my son Shlomo, 19, a student at Beer Sheva University and my daughter Simha, 17, in high school. Since the conflict in Gaza began, I have written regular e-mails to family and friends in the US about our experiences under fire from Qassam rockets.

My physiotherapist uses a room on the first floor rather than taking a chance that the roof of the shelter will collapse. They no longer put you in positions you can't get out of quickly. A man having treatment on his legs with his pants off was worried he wouldn't be able to run. Luckily there wasn't a siren for several hours.

This time the siren was around 1p.m. Rockets hit a house a block away from my school. No one was hurt, but the house was badly damaged. A woman buckling her child into her car seat jumped out, grabbed the child and ran into the house next door. Luckily she picked the right house.

The car was badly damaged and metal poles from the rocket pierced her seat and in her child's seat. People here are more and more convinced of divine intervention - near-misses, rockets that land in empty lots instead of the nearest house, people who manage to get to safety seconds before rockets explode: nissim gluyim - observable miracles.

There were several sirens in Beer Sheva today - my son is on the ground floor of a two-storey building and the safest place is the stairway. The Home Front Command did not approve my daughter's school in terms of safety so they are not going back and yet I don't trust them with my daughter's life. Help lines are available to residents of the south.

People here don't say "have a good day." People say "have a quiet day (or night)" and the answer is not "you too" the answer is "amen." Over shabbat, when people say "shabbat shalom" (peaceful sabbath) the answer now is "amen" and people understand this to mean more than it used to.