More than two years ago, before the expulsion of the Jews from Gush Katif and the destruction of those beautiful yishuvim, I bought an orange bracelet for five shekels. The money was to go help the effort to convince the government and the people of Israel that
I take the torn bracelet as a sign of defeat.
 the Sharon Disengagement Plan was doomed to failure, that it would not bring peace, that rockets would fall on Israeli cities just as they had fallen almost daily on these peaceful enclaves that were to be dismantled.

Months after the plan went through, people saw that I was still wearing the orange bracelet and asked me why. When they have a home, I responded, I will remove it. When we at least take care of them as best we can, then, maybe, I can take it off. They thought I was crazy and went back to their comfortable lives in the Gush Dan area, far removed from even the thought that perhaps the whole thing had been for nothing. The rockets kept falling. The mortars. The attempts to infiltrate our cities, and the endless attempts to delegitimize our existence here.

Time and the sun faded the orange bracelet to a pale imitation of what it was, but it stayed on my wrist. Even when my daughter got married several months ago, I couldn't bring myself to take it off and so, next to my grandmother's gold bracelet, the orange band remained. The rockets and mortars stretched as far as Asheklon. The north was bombarded with hundreds of Katyushas in a war that was thrust upon us because Hizbullah, like Hamas, had learned that we were weak. We would uproot our own people for nothing, without gaining anything, so why not try for more?

It's been two years, someone said some months ago. Why are you still wearing that orange bracelet? When they have a home, I repeated for the umpteenth time. And jobs, I added. When we at least take care of them as best we can, then I'll take it off. This time, they nodded sadly. What could they say? The statistics are all known. The unemployment rate, the fact that they are still waiting for space for homes to be built. The government has failed, again. Only this time, it is expected, accepted, understood. Even left-wing Knesset members are admitting that the "disengagement" achieved absolutely nothing and, in fact, weakened us in the eyes of our enemies.

I got home late from work the other day and went to change my clothes. I removed my shirt, only to find the bracelet was gone. Worn away over time, the bracelet had finally surrendered. I found it in the sleeve of my shirt, torn. It sits now on my desk. I could get another, but it wouldn't be the same. Immediately after it broke, I wondered if my husband, the ultimate Mr. Fixer, could fix this too, but it wouldn't be the same.

I take the torn bracelet as a sign of defeat - not of the amazing people of Gush Katif, who are picking themselves up slowly and rebuilding. Of course, they could have done it so much more quickly and so less painfully if only we had helped them. But you can't keep these people down. They will build new communities, every bit as beautiful as the ones we destroyed. If the government breaks its commitment to build them synagogues to replace the ones they abandoned to the Arab mobs in Gaza, I have no doubt these courageous people will build them themselves. Perhaps the yeshiva in N'vei Dekalim, the amazing building in the shape of a Jewish star, will be rebuilt. These people will rise up because it is in their nature and because they understand commitment and pride in their identities.

So, why do I mourn that little orange bracelet? Because, as it turns out, it didn't symbolize
The proud Olmert government allowed itself to be treated in such a humiliating fashion.
 the people of Gush Katif, it symbolized us. It was our commitment to them, and we failed. The bracelet, like our commitment, is defeated. Ariel Sharon, Ehud Olmert, those who pushed the plan forward so efficiently (if only the destruction part of it), succeeded in tearing the fabric of our society.

Perhaps it is very appropriate that this should happen in the week of Annapolis, when the proud Olmert government allowed itself to be treated in such a humiliating fashion, the bracelet should surrender in shame. It was not a week of peace negotiations. It was a week in which Jews were told to walk through the service door entrance rather than the main entrance with the others, lest they insult the Arab attendees; a week when the Israeli delegation agreed not to be photographed in the same pictures as the mighty Saudis lest Muslims be embarrassed by appearing in the same photograph as Jews or Israelis; and it was a conference where it was acceptable that Arabs wouldn't have to lower themselves to shake the hand of a Jewish prime minister in public.

How long will I mourn the orange bracelet? Until the Israeli government stands with pride behind our identity as a Jewish State; until the Israeli government refuses to be treated like an embarrassment. Until the Israeli government can stand and not crawl to any negotiations with our enemies. Until Olmert and his embarrassing coalition with its ghetto-mentality are removed from the Knesset, and men and women of honor rule this proud country.