Nomi Shira

I feel like a traitor.

I feel like a traitor every moment I am not praying for my brothers and sisters in Gaza.

I feel like a traitor every moment I allow myself to laugh, knowing there are those putting their life on the line. I feel like a traitor every time I enjoy the kiss of sunlight, knowing there are those who are in dark, dank tunnels and probably haven’t seen sunlight for days. I feel like a traitor when I sleep on a soft, comfortable bed with my thick blankets and pillows knowing there are men in Gaza sleeping on the ground! I feel like a traitor when I eat a fine prepared meal knowing they live and derive off of tuna cans. I feel like a traitor laughing with my loved ones when there are those who don’t know if their loved ones will return; when there are those who wait with bated breath for the phone call from their husband and son – and have to live each day subconsciously fearing the worst. 

I feel like a traitor forgetting about the war, when there are those who are crying and mourning over their lost loved ones. I feel like a traitor living in a comfortable home when there are evacuee mothers in hotel rooms with three or four children. 

I feel like a traitor when I laugh with abandon, and forget the weight of the pain of the Jewish People.