Hostage Deal

 An excerpt from an article I wrote on Aish,com 24 years ago. Sara Leisha's murderer is slated to be released in the hostage deal.

NOVEMBER 13, 2000

It is our turn to take food to the soldiers again. This time our youngest daughter wants to come, too. We see an Egged bus traveling off its regular route. That can only mean one thing -- the main road is closed. I find myself hoping, in my heart, that it is closed because of an accident, not something more serious.

We turn on the news and learn that there was a shooting halfway between Shilo and Ofra. Three people are hurt. Immediately, I do a mental inventory. My children are all accounted for. What about my friends and neighbors? I want to hear the names and at the same time I am dreading hearing them. By the time we finish giving out the food at the third hilltop, the news reports that three Jews have been murdered.

Our oldest son is waiting for us when we arrive home. He has more details. Two of the murdered were soldiers. The third was Sara Leisha. Sara is, I guess I should say was, the girls' sports teacher here. Sara was a favorite teacher, beloved by students, parents and teachers for her special smile and her way of always greeting us with something positive and friendly.

Before I can put my thoughts together and deal with the shock and grief, the phone rings. It is my 14-year-old daughter calling from her high school. It was just the beginning of September that we took her to The Ulpana, a girl's high school two hours from Shilo. She was so eager to be meeting girls from all over Israel. Now she is crying. She has already heard the news about her former teacher. My heart aches that I cannot comfort her. I calm her as much as I am able, but I know that she and the other girls from Shilo are probably going to make each other more hysterical.

I must get a hold of someone from the staff of the high school, but the switchboard is closed. Finally I reach the rabbi. I stress that the girls need a mother to put her arms around them and tell them that everything will be alright -- even though nothing will ever be the same for them again, now that their lives have been touched by murder.

Everything feels so heavy and overbearing. My husband and I try to relax by going for a walk together. We hear gunshots and learn that Arabs are shooting at cars coming into Shilo. In one of these cars is Sara Leisha's brother.

In spite of my terror, I remind myself that for every car getting shot at there are dozens more that leave and come into Shilo daily without any problems. Statistics tell us that are chances of being killed in a car accident are far greater than in a terrorist attack.

Relatives from America tell us we should move. Our rabbis tell us we should keep on with our normal lives.

I can't imagine leaving Shilo. My father ran from Nazi Germany. I ran from American assimilation. If we run from Shilo today, where will we run from tomorrow? Where is it safe for Jews if not in the Land of Israel?