that night and that day

I was only a nine-year-old kid at that time. Too young for such fears, and too little for such a terrifying experience. For grownups, their early childhood memories are usually vague and incoherent. Some incidents may be remembered well, yet the details are always blurred. The case is quite different for me. I can recall, now, the details of “that night and that day” remarkably well, in spite of the several decades that separate me from them now.

That night was an exceptionally different one. It was unlike the other 10 nights we endured under the siege of the Israeli army. They attacked us for 10 days, and allowed no one to enter or leave our area. We had no food. We drank the water of the drains. Every one was working hard. Men were always armed and sitting in ambush, waiting to chop any Israeli head that might show up. Women were working very hard to make food and supplies ready. Every one was striving and endeavoring to defend the area. We, the kids, played no role in all o...