Being the news junkie that I am, major events will keep me glued to any available news source. A top story could keep me riveted, waiting for some new tidbit. An impending hurricane could captivate me for days, even weeks. In the past, cable news channels were my no. 1 news sources. After leaving cable TV behind with the rest of 
I was suddenly aware of a distant rumbling that I knew, without even asking, was not caused by the weather.
America, the Internet became my ever-present post-Aliyah news source.
I thankfully get a respite from my addiction every weekend for 25 hours. On the Sabbath news may happen, but I am blissfully unaware, as just over a day of electronics-free, unhampered peace and quiet take over my life. Family, food and freedom from the ever-present temptation to check the latest report reigns the day. Unless, of course, I receive a live report.
This past Shabbat, we heard an unauthorized news leak right after synagogue that was cause for concern. Our IDF ground troops were going into Gaza - that very day. Perhaps they were already in. Whether or not we supported this phase of the operation - and I think I can safely say that most of my neighbors do support any action that may stop the near daily lobbing of Kassam rockets on our countrymen - we certainly share unanimous support for our friends and neighbors, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters who make up the Israel Defense Forces. I felt that familiar urge to run to my computer and see what was happening, an urge I knew I would never act on during the Sabbath unless it was a matter of life and death. Little did I know that I was going to see what was happening - in real time, in real life.
We left the synagogue and began walking home on our usual path. We saw some neighbors standing at a particularly scenic spot in Neve Daniel - on the top of that beautiful mountain that we call home. We noticed that they were looking through binoculars. Not a particularly common sight on a day when no tourists pass through our gates.
We detoured a bit to approach the pair. They turned out to be our friend with his son. We asked them what they were looking at; though I admit that we already suspected the truth.
It turns out that the incredible panoramic westerly view from Neve Daniel extends all the way from Tel Aviv in the north down to - you guessed it - Gaza in the south. A panoramic stretch of more than 40 miles, at a distance of over 40 miles, is all perfectly visible to the naked eye as long as the weather cooperates. For some reason, I just never expected that our view could extend that far; and it never came up in conversation. Until that day.
I asked to take a look through the binoculars. I scanned the horizon through the powerful lens to find the landmarks I could recognize. I quickly spotted the famous smokestacks of the Ashkelon power plant. I realized that the view, which extends many miles further to the left (south) of this, of course, was of the Gaza Strip.
I was suddenly aware of a distant rumbling that I knew, without even asking, was not caused by the weather. My friend pointed out a plume of smoke on the horizon, obviously a result of the rumbling which, the more I paid attention to it, the more of it I could hear. I was struck by the fact that I was literally standing outside watching the news, albeit without clarification or commentary, and, believe me, far, far enough away to be without risk.
I noticed a young couple standing nearby whom I did not recognize. They told us that they live in Beersheba, and had grabbed the opportunity to escape the fear and terror of the recent onslaught of rocket fire for a tranquil Shabbat in Neve Daniel. They added that the Code Red alert system in their area wasn’t working properly, thus eliminating the paltry 15-second warning that other cities in the area have.
I heard many distant booms throughout the rest of the day. When I arrived at home I realized that a good part of the stretch of coastline visible from son’s bedroom window is actually the Gaza Strip. I spent the rest of the day obsessively looking out the window, stealing glances through the binoculars, and taking roundabout walks that kept taking me past the perfect location for seeing the coastline in its near entirety.
I had no idea what I was really watching. What kind of damage was taking place? Was anyone hurt or killed? On 
The stretch of coastline visible from son’s bedroom window is actually the Gaza Strip.
which side? Minister of Defense Ehud Barak had stated clearly that there would be casualties. That is the terrible price of war. For too long we had been paying the price of not acting. We could only hope that taking this frightening step would accomplish the goals with the minimum loss of life - on all sides.
While I couldn’t really ascertain anything that was happening from my mountaintop perch that Saturday afternoon, I was affected deeply by every imagined possibility.
All this action is over 40 miles away. So far, and yet so close. So far that our day-to-day lives don’t have to be affected at all. And yet our country is so small that no one is terribly far from anything that is happening. Not far physically, and certainly not far mentally or spiritually.
I don’t need to watch the news. I can simply watch as people across the country are literally opening up their homes to thousands of shell-shocked residents of the cities near the Gaza border. The outpouring of caring and support is truly uplifting in a tense and difficult time.
As long as we are making this effort, let it not be in vain.
© 2009, Laura Ben-David – all rights reserved.