Though a ceasefire with Iran has been in place for several days, Israelis continue to face the ongoing threat of rocket attacks from Hezbollah in the north. In recent weeks, daily life has unfolded in the shadow of missile fire—shifting between routine and moments of alarm. In Haifa last Sunday, a deadly strike killed four people and injured others. From within this reality, CJP’s Israel director, Lior Krengel, shares her reflection on living with the fear of the next attack.

The booms at night are the scariest.
During the day, I’m on it.
At night,
I’m on them. Holding them, listening, praying.

Tonight, a thought entered my mind in the middle of prayer.
And then I felt
a boom.
From above and below and from the inside out.
Everything shook for a moment, and since then my heart hasn’t stopped trembling.

“You were lucky in your misfortune,”
that’s what those who know say.
Because the cluster bomb exploded a few meters from here and there,
and if it had been just a little more this way or that, everything would have looked different.

And what kind of luck is that.
To wake up at two in the morning, join the girls in the safe room, hold them, pray, hear one boom and another and another,
and then feel the fourth one in your entire body, from everywhere,
interrupting the counting, the thoughts, the sense of safety.
Then silence. Then noise. Then silence. Then morning.

And the damage is “not really damage.”
The hole in the road that will soon be fixed,
the traffic light that will be replaced,
the crack in the wall,
the shattered balcony window.
And property tax compensation.
Fast track. Slow track.

And the heart.
The hole and the crack and the fracture in the heart.
Who will mend those.
And through which track.

And they don’t understand.
Because we held them and protected them inside a perfect energetic bubble.
But who is holding us. Who is holding me.

We were lucky in our misfortune.
No physical injuries.
It could have been worse.
It’s worse a street away.
It’s worse three floors down.
Since when do I compare downward.
This is bad enough for me.
It’s enough.

And tomorrow.
Tomorrow is a new day.