| Shabbat Parashat Vayetze 9 Kislev 5773 November 22nd 2012 Shalom, I never take day flights. The timing is inconvenient, you lose valuable time, and most passengers are awake so it's noisy and far more difficult to cope with jetlag. Nevertheless, my last flight to Israel on Monday was a day flight. If you ask how come?! The answer is Price. Even though there's usually not much of a difference, this flight was significantly cheaper so I was convinced to take it.
I arrived early Tuesday morning after a long sleepless flight. I finally made it home realizing I can enjoy couple of hours of quite before Tehilah and Yehudit would return home so I tried to get some rest. Those who know me know that it's almost an impossible task for me to fall asleep during the day. Nevertheless, after a while I fell asleep. I was probably asleep for 20 minutes, when I was woken up by a siren. It took me a few seconds to realize where I was and what I should do. Tehilah called to make sure I was awake and to ask if I remembered where I should go and what I should do, as this was the first siren I'd heard in 20 years. I quickly got dressed and made it to the hallway outside my apartment when I heard the boom. Then, everything was back to "normal". Thank God, once again, nothing happened.
The 90 seconds from the moment the siren started till I heard the boom felt like a déjà vu to 1991, during the gulf war. Back then, my family and I were in the front line and the first missile landed on our street. I remember that night vividly. I heard the sirens (already back then I was a light sleeper), ran to my parent's room where they were still asleep, woke them up and ran to bring my brother who was still sleeping. As soon as we all were in the protected room with the door shut, adjusting our gas masks, we heard the boom. It was so strong and loud, but we never thought (or wanted to believe) it was so close. That was one of the longest nights of my life; we listened to the radio, and were not allowed to leave the sealed room till the morning.
In the morning we discovered we had no more windows or shutters. Among all the mess, I found a piece from the Iraqi "skad" on my pillow. We had to move to my aunt's house where we stayed until the end of the war.
As horrible as that was, 20 years later, most of my memories from that time are good and funny. We tend to look back with humor at unthinkable situations, finding the amusing aspect, perhaps to attempt to forget the fear and danger that we experienced. I wonder if it's because I was only a high school kid and not a parent. How will I remember this war when my now my first concern is for my wife and baby?! The ceasefire became a fact after writing the paragraphs above, and now, with relief, we say "Hodu Lashem Ki Tov Ki Le'Olam Hasdo" (Give thanks to God for His kindness endures forever).
Speaking of the word "Hodu" (Give thanks), I'm writing these lines on Thanksgiving, which requires further discussion as the Hebrew word for Turkey is also "Hodu".
One might falsely think that since it's customary to eat turkeys on Thanksgiving, Eliezer Ben Yehudah (the first Modern Hebrew Linguistic) has decided to call the bird Hodu. The truth however, is different. The word "Hodu" in Hebrew is also referred to the country, India. Similar to the reason we mistakenly call Native Americans "Indians" we call turkey "Hodu" after the place Columbus only thought he came to. This Thanksgiving we have much to be thankful for. Operation "Pillar of Defense" could have easily ended with a greater number of casualties and destruction, and we thank God for His Kindness which endures forever. Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem, Cantor Arik Wollheim | 
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