Today is Sunday, but I wasn’t supposed to go back to Merhavim as I do every week because of the Purim break. In Israel no one expects children to study during the week prior to Purim, and of course not on Purim itself.

At the beginning of the week, when I sat with three second graders to read and discuss the story of Purim, I was surprised by how much they knew. Not only did they know the main characters — Ahasuerus, Vashti, Mordecai, and Esther — but also minor characters like Bigthan and Teresh, who plotted against King Ahasuerus. The children loved the story of the Book of Esther, which is full of adventure, revenge, and dramatic events.

Unfortunately, I had the chance to work with only one group, because the following day at the elementary school was devoted to dressing up. In retrospect, taking into account the war against the regime in Iran, which started yesterday morning — as unrealistic and almost fantastical as the Book of Esther, which takes place in Persia — I am really happy that the children got to celebrate Purim before Purim. Still, I am worried that, for quite a few years, their memory of the story of Esther will be mixed with the story of the war against the regime in modern-day Persia.

Wednesday at the junior high was a very sad day. When the bell rang, I noticed that the seventh graders were outside their classrooms and that most of the girls in the hall were crying. It was sad and emotional, and then I found out that one of their classmates had passed away that morning. Although she had been ill, it was sudden and unexpected. I remember that I was about their age when one of the boys I knew from school died. It was the first time I encountered death. He was a lovely boy, and it was very hard to all of us. I never forgot him. The girls and boys of Merhavim have been through a lot: COVID, October 7, the hostages, and now the sad death of their friend. Last week I wrote about the excitement of my students about a Bat Mitzvah. I heard that the girl who died was able to attend that Bat Mitzvah and be with her classmates. The seventh graders did not go to class on Wednesday, and the teachers, including me, let them grieve.

Although for the last month we have been talking constantly about the possibility of war, yesterday’s siren, a little after 8 a.m., caught me by surprise. I don’t have a safe room or a shelter, and I simply stay at home, but I know that other ordinary people here and in Iran are far worse off than I am

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