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Read my story below:

It’s hard to put the days since October 7th into words.

I was woken up at 6:30 a.m. on Shabbat morning to an alert on my phone that I didn’t recognize. Half asleep, I got up to walk to the bathroom without checking my phone to hear sirens blaring in the distance. I ran into the room to wake Ron; he grabbed our dog, and we ran down to the shelter.

The texts and calls from friends and family checking on each other came flooding in. Ron was barely able to have a conversation with his parents as they were running back and forth to the shelter in Be’er Sheva. My sister-in-law and her husband were hunkered down in their apartment in Sderot under heavy rocket fire, with terrorists knocking on doors. They were unable to answer phone calls as they didn’t want to be heard.

The news we started to hear sounded fake. Hundreds killed, hundreds kidnapped. Villages along the border of Gaza had been taken over and were under the control of Hamas.

The hours that followed have been filled with fear - scared to walk the dog around the block, frightened by any loud noise outside. We hear explosions over our heads and jets flying by our windows. We watch the terrified new parents standing with their newborn baby, shushing him back to sleep while our building shakes from the explosion.

Each hour, another friend or family member is called back to the reserves. We don’t really know where they are going or when we will hear from them next.

Our social media is filled with people searching for missing loved ones, videos of people running for their lives, kidnapped elderly women and children being paraded around Gaza.

Israel will persevere; we will never stop fighting, but we will also never be the same.

Am Yisrael Chai!