Ashdod

Let me paint for you a picture of a city that is now under attack from the Hamas, a terrorist organization, government in Gaza:

I step off the bus with my backpack on, ready for the weekly travel of Shabbos. We are encouraged at school to get out of Jerusalem and travel the country; the best time for this is over Shabbos, when your whole day is based on walking from place to place. A successful Shabbos is a peaceful one.

My eyes squint from the bright sun in Ashdod. I haven't seen this pleasant of weather since before Sukkot (the Autumn holiday that marks the beginning of the rainy season in Israel). But the warm sun on my body, and the cool breeze blowing past, make this walk from the bus station more than my typical winter stroll.

I pass park after park with children playing as parents sit idly. The corners are all sprinkled with small businesses, each with a small chunk of the storefront. One of the storefronts has a familiar symbol: the Rambam-diagonal chanukiah in the window. It says one message: there is a Chabad house here--all Jews welcome.

The family I stayed with were the second generation of emissary to come to Ashdod. The wife, previously Ms. Goodman, grew up with the pioneers of Jewish emissry; her family, the Goodman's came over 25 years ago to the same city. They watched the small beach town, with the perfect weather, turn into a mordern city. A place where Jews can thrive.

If I would have come to Ashdod a few weeks later, I would have seen a war-torn land. Children aren't playing in parks, since the missles sent from Gaza could land anywhere, at any time. The sky isn't bright from the sun; it is sprinkled with terror. My eyes would squint with fear today, not pleasure.

This beautiful beach town has become yet another victim of terror.