Our CSI colleague Raquel Schwaerzler's stay in Israel is turning out very differently than planned. The packed schedule of visits to projects and partners has been rendered useless since the start of the war. Being alone there under constant rocket alerts is incredibly draining. And yet, there are wonderful encounters with people who, especially now, need to know that they are not alone. People like Ariella and her young son, Rom.
By Raquel Schwaerzler
Ariella is a florist in Tel Aviv. She has run her own small flower shop for 20 years. I met her a few days after arriving in Israel – while searching for a flower shop that could supply flowers for a Purim celebration with 100 Holocaust survivors in Bat Yam. A few days later, the war began; all events were canceled.
But by then we had become friends, and so I met her again—even without ordering flowers—to hear the rest of her story. Ariella had already had a bitter experience with Iranian missiles: Last year, her apartment was destroyed in an Iranian missile attack during the Twelve-Day War. Afterwards, she lived in a hotel for two and a half months; the costs were covered by a government emergency fund.
Survived by a miracle
“I was sitting on the cellar steps with my eight-year-old son, Rom, when the rocket hit,” Ariella recalls. “I put a blanket over us, hugged my son close, and prayed to God. Somehow a miracle happened, and we survived. Rom is my greatest gift.”
Rom is only eight years old and has already experienced more than many people in a lifetime. On October 7, 2023, he was visiting his grandmother in Moshav Yakhini in the Gaza Strip, where Ariella grew up. Dozens of Hamas terrorists invaded the small village and carried out a massacre; seven people were murdered.
Nightmares from October 7th
“Rom was in a shelter with his grandmother and uncle,” Ariella reports. “He saw the terrorists. His 17-year-old cousin is still traumatized to this day. He had to listen to his friend being stabbed by the terrorists. After October 7th, Rom was terrified for a long time. At night, he would wake up repeatedly from nightmares and run screaming through the apartment: ‘Mechablim! Terrorists!’”
Rom isn't going to school right now. That makes him very sad. He misses his friends. And football. But he loves to draw. So we sat down in the bunker and drew together. Later, I gave him a sketchbook and some colored pencils.
Ice cream for dessert and a glimmer of hope
In the evening, I treat them both to dinner. We don't have much choice – the nice restaurants are closed. But a small Asian takeaway will do. For dessert, we have Italian gelato. A small moment of normality.
Two days later, Ariella is able to reopen her flower shop – always on call until the next air raid alert. I'm happy to see how many customers are already back. As a parting gift, she makes me a beautiful bouquet for my host family for Shabbat evening. "It's the least I can do to give you back," she says.
