For some time I have been a recipient of mail updating from Sderot Media, whose aim says their director, Noam Bedein, is: "To do our part to balance Middle East coverage by conveying the human side of the Sderot story through the arts and media." 

Bedein explains that even with reduced missile attacks during this third "ceasefire" with the Gaza regime, thousands of Sderot residents are still reeling from the post-traumatic effects and economic devastation brought on by a decade of rocket attacks. Sderot Media has represented the people of Sderot and Israel on the floors of the U.S. Congress, at the Goldstone Commission in Geneva, and in front of parliamentarians in South Africa, Kenya, Zambia, Australia, Norway, Holland and the EU.

It was not long after ESRA ran its story competition on Israel that I had a mail from Sderot Media telling of their creative writing contest. Naturally this was of interest, and after logging on and reading the submissions, I felt the need for the ESRA Magazine to publish the winning pieces which give touching insight into the traumas suffered by the residents of Sderot. The course for creative writing was set up by Sderot Media in order to encourage residents, both young and old, to try and find some relief from their suffering through the written word.

So please read on: 

The Story of Moran, Who Lives in Sderot

By Or Adam 

A.

Noam is two years old, he lives in Jerusalem.

Idan is six years old now. He lives in a Moshav.

In a green and fabulous kibbutz, Rinat is eight years old, already a big girl.

And Moran?

Moran has a bruised knee, she fell of a branch yesterday.

She’s five years old, sort of, and she has an enchanted look.

Moran has a scratch on her forehead, from her kitty cat - Hav Hav.

Bare feet, on their way, they’re so hot right now.

Moran’s hair is full and curly, she climbs on fences,

and breaks the dishes, and she lives in... Sderot.

B.

Noam has just learnt to walk. “Who wants to run to me?”

Idan has an incisor tooth, and it’s just about to fall.

Rinat loves the merry - go - round, which makes the world go round.

How about Moran, what does it mean to her?

She’s a child, just like the others.

She loves to shoot hoops, and jumps around all day,

but she’s always on the watch, for the “Red Color” alarm,

because Sderot is special.

Sometimes, missiles land here,

and on such days, Moran is a little scared.  

C.

If Moran suddenly hears a “Red Color” alarm going off outside,

she knows, like everyone else: You must run to the protected room.

A few more minutes and a shudder, and the explosion is heard!

Rinat, Idan and Noam each, have a small hidden fear:

Fear of the dark, of the thunder, of a very scary wolf.

Moran has all of those, thousands of stored fears,

but she also has plenty of shock, from the Kassam’s ‘Boom’.

D.

One time she went out with her mother, for a visit to the club

and suddenly, the “Red Color” alarm went off.

Moran lay down, and her heart was beating strongly.

A commotion exploded, not far from where they were.

She’ll never forget the shudder and the thunder, which shook everything,

even when she’ll grow up.

E.

Moran’s tooth fell, just like Idan’s.

She loves going higher and higher, like Rinat, on the swings.

She doesn’t want to flee in fear, to the protected room, when the alarm goes off.

Just like any child, she has an urge, and is anxiously waiting for games and fun.

F.

One day, from up above, Moran heard short sounds,

but Dad hurried to calm her: “It’s us who are firing now”.

Moran asked Dad: “Why is our army firing at them?”

“That’s how it is”, answered Dad, “It’s because they fired at us”.

So Moran thought about it for a moment, and then told Dad:

“But if we fire at them, they’ll fire back at us... “

With no words, Moran continues to ask Dad,

What else is going to happen here?

For how long will the missiles fall?

That’s Moran, always asking. Simple, small questions.

But Dad, he doesn’t know how to answer all of them.

G.

Moran has a light in her eyes, and it wins you over immediately.

But her eyes are shut now, and she’s asleep, for the meantime,

just like Idan, Noam and Rinat.

Idan dreams about a bicycle, green, like Ohad’s.

Noam only dreams about Dad, who needs to come back from the office.

Rinat dreams about being a singer, like Ninette, on the stage.

Moran, too, doesn’t give up on the light of her dream:

In the dark, she falls asleep.

Under all her curls, she’s peaceful, but she’s dreaming

about an environment without missiles.

Green lawn, colorful blossoms, red, too,

and a walk outside with no sirens and alarms, just like everyone else’s dreams...

H.

It is known that good dreams come true only if you really want them to,

In an hour, year, or week, they happen, and satisfaction comes.

So Idan asked for a bicycle, to be bought for him, right now,

and for Noam, kisses on the cheeks from a returning Dad.

Rinat will become a singer, and everyone will be surprised.

She, and no other, will sing at the class’s party!

Moran, however, in the sea of Kassams, only continues to hope,

for a dynamic change, which will affect Sderot.

JUST ANOTHER DAY

By Tom Adam 

Just a normal Sderot day - another rocket alarm. You might say that we automatically run to the shelter. Quiet. This is the only time in which I manage to listen to the quiet. Absolute quiet - stillness so perfect I hardly notice even the birds. Only my heart is about to explode while I wait through those quiet seconds for the inevitable boom - the boom that ends the silence and represents our return to normal life, as if nothing happened.

Time does not move as we wait for that boom, though. As if somebody ruined all the watches so that they will prevent time from moving as it should. "It should come! It should be over! It should fall!" I know that this time it fell on my house, but I refuse to believe it. The broken glass, the light that went out suddenly, the acrid smoke, the dust that fills the air and therefore the lungs. I still hear the words my mother spoke at that moment: "This time it was in our home." Those words both kept and lost their usual meanings. I kept trying to believe it had not happened to us, but I knew it had. My mother ran to open a window; my sister simply stood still. We ran out doors to breathe the air.

And today, when I remember that day, half a year ago, a perfectly normal day in Sderot, I try to think: Why do I need this? Why not simply move to another city, where these rockets do not blow people's houses up? Why must I live in this constant terror? And I think I would have a more pleasant and a quieter life if only I lived elsewhere. But in spite of all these thoughts and all the worry, I know that Sderot is the place for me to be. I think about all the small things I know here, my family, the unimportant details that give life to my home even as they clutter it up - and I know that my life is here. I have nowhere else. 

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