Dedicated to my Father
Table of Contents -About the Author -Historical narrative packet -Foreword -Historical Narrative -Bibliography
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About the Author
Sarah Fefer was born in Istanbul Turkey. She is now 12 years old and still lives there. She goes to Istanbul International Community school. She speaks English and Turkish. Sarah likes Reading and Running. She is in the x-country team at IICS. Sarah is currently reading the book Allegiant by Veronica Roth.
Foreword It was 1973 October 6th. Jewish holy day Yom Kippur. Egypt and Syria carried out a coordinated surprise military attack against Israel. On this day forgiveness of sins is also asked of God. Yom Kippur has five prayer services. The traditions are: No eating or drinking, no wearing leather shoes, no bathing or washing, no use of electricity and no anointing oneself with perfumes or lotions.
I
t was the Day of Atonement. I was wearing a white shirt, as is tradition.
I was only 7 years old, nearly eight. I was outside in a rather cheerful mood playing with my friends. We would spend hours playing our usual game of tag careful not to disturb the elders. Yom Kippur was the day we would see old friend that we usually don't see. We would be unaware of any new or political issue for that one-day. We were in the streets playing our childish games when the soldiers filled the streets. Pushing past us as if we were thin air. Unrecognizable faces filled my view. People started calling out for their family members and loved ones. This was clearly an unexpected event. What could have possibly happened so important that we needed to go straight home in the holiest
day of the Jewish calendar.
I
could hear the distant sound of my mother calling my name. I didn't stop to give my friends a wave. My eyes focused on my mother. I could feel the adults glaring at me as I shoved my way past them roughly. I seized hold of my mom's hand. She took no notice. I noticed she was searching for my younger brother Dori.
I let go of my mother hand and blended in the crown desperate to satisfy my mother. I sensed my mother's shoulder fall loosely by her side. I ignored the distant sound of my mother calling for me. I spotted my younger brothers wild hair bobbing behind a row of bodies. I had no time to gloat. As soon as he turned around we locked eyes. He tried to push his way past the crowd. Another boy elbowed him out of the way. I could feel my cheeks flare up with anger. I could sense my brother
pushing back tears. I seized hold of his shoulders. “As long as I’m by your side no one can lay a hand on you. I will protect you. I can and I will.” I wasn't so sure myself I yanked his arm and pulled him towards my mother before she got too worried.
I
spotted my parents standing between the crowds, arm in arm. My father was the first to spot us. As soon as I saw the ice cold look on his eyes, I knew he was not happy. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. “Come on.” My father seized hold of my brother’s hand. Dragging me along with them. We stopped in front of our doorstep, my mother frantically slipping her hand into her pocket, digging for the keys. She hurriedly slid the key into the keyhole. As soon as the door opened, my father pushed me hurriedly. My mother and Dori trotting behind us. My father switched on the radio. My father pulled two chairs for my mother and himself. I took this as an opportunity
to exit the room. I signaled for my brother. My brother slowly jogged across the room and grabbed my hand. For ten minutes I tried to distract my brother.
I
heard the doorbell ring. Its shrill sound echoing right through my closed door. My father had his usual frown. “They need me in the army. They need me to work in the office. I can call you everyday. Please, don't worry” He looked right at my mother. She said nothing. My eyes started tearing up. I quickly turned around, before my mother would see me and reach out to comfort me. The radio was still on. There were many words spoken. But they all seemed meaningless. All except one word. War. I didn't understand the meaning, the importance of war until now. I thought war was a simple game that could be
solved. My mother put on her best smile. Beneath that smile I new there
was worry and sorrow. War was no game. It was a part of life.
Bibliography “Yom Kippur War Cease-Fire Lines.” www.israel.org/mfa/aboutisrael/maps/pages/yom%20kippur%20war%20ceasefire%20lines-%20october%2024-%201973.aspx. Rubin, Debra. “NJ Vet Recalls Trauma of Yom Kippur War.” New Jersey Jewish News, njjewishnews.com/article/18412/nj-vet-recalls-trauma-of-yom-kippurwar#. wacn8jn97r2. “Yom Kippur War Cease-Fire Lines.” www.israel.org/mfa/aboutisrael/maps/pages/yom%20kippur%20war%20ceasefire%20lines-%20october%2024-%201973.aspx.
“Yom Kippur War.” EBSCOhost, web.a.ebscohost.com/ehost/detail/detail? vid=4&sid=24b0d8dc-f593-445d-80b3b1fe54075ea3%40sessionmgr4007&hid=4214&bdata=jnnpdgu9zwhvc3qtbgl 2zq%3d%3d#db=funk&an=yo007800.
“The Unforgivable Sin I Committed Yom Kippur Morning | Yom Kippur.” Jewish Journal, www.jewishjournal.com/yom_kippur/article/the_unforgivable_sin_i_committed_ yom_kippur_morning. “ Circulen, Aquí Ya No Hay Nada Que Ver .” Húsar De Salón, husardesalon.blogspot.com.tr/2011/11/circulenaquiyanohaynadaque ver.html#.WDKYgqJ97R0.
“The Struggle of The Lubicon Cree to Affirm Their Collective Identity Timeline.” Timetoast, www.timetoast.com/timelines/the-struggle-of-thelubicon-cree-to-affirm-their-collective-identity.