98 results for 'ranfuchs'
... As more defenders were killed or injured, we runners found ourselves taking on new roles. Judith, the medic took charge of our training. She was one of the oldest defenders – maybe in her mid twenties – and everyone obeyed her. She taught us how to administer a tourniquet, and scolded us when we giggled in mouth-to-mouth resuscitation lessons. I could see that she was hiding a smile, and I was not afraid of her. I wanted to be just like her. It was then that I vowed to become a nurse.
In our weapon lessons, Judith gave each of us a pile of empty magazines and ordered us to scrub... (more)
The defenders used my knowledge of the city to pass massages between the posts. I became a runner. We can’t see the posts from here, but they were nothing more than ordinary apartments: bedrooms, kitchens and living rooms. As the British often hunted for weapons and underground members, we kept the rooms inconspicuous, just like in any other poverty stricken room with piles of mattresses and blankets, washing bowls and dirty dishes.
The Quarter was under siege, and as we were always hungry, I took it upon myself to find food. I met with Salwa, my best friend, in our secret... (more)
‘Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?’
‘That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’ said the Cat.
‘I don’t much care where –‘ said Alice.
‘Then it does not matter which way you go,’ said the Cat.
‘— so long as I get somewhere,’ Alice added as an explanation.
‘Oh, you’re sure to do that,’ said the Cat, ‘if you only walk long enough.’
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
Decisions, decisions, decisions. Love them or hate them, one thing’s for certain – you cannot avoid them. If you refuse to make them they’ll be... (more)
A large square room. Total emptiness.
Black walls; black floor; black ceiling.
The room is bright, but no light source is to be seen, as if the air itself is glowing.
I cannot see where one wall starts and the other ends, where the floor or the ceiling end.
And a white cross in the middle. I approach it, and stands at its center.
A window opens in the ceiling, straight over my head.
It's a small window
Enough to show me the grayness of the clouds.
Never before did I notice the full rainbow of grays that blend into... (more)
This is a continuation from The Question of Reality
Parapsychology is a field of study that include many non-scientific disciplines that attempt to fill the gap where scientific observations cannot go. But can such fields coexist with modern science, bridging the gap between science are reality, or are they mutually exclusive?
Many parapsychologists do not oppose science. Instead, they claim that the physical world, as we observe it, is only part of a bigger picture. The big picture, they say, includes events beyond scientific observation, and therefore beyond science. If they... (more)
A person holding a hand saw is cutting the branch he is stilling on. The branch snaps and he falls down. ‘Bad luck’ he mutters to himself.
A great deal of our misfortune we blame on luck. Sometimes it is, but often it’s lack of foresight. ‘How could we have known,’ we mutter while clearing the bruises, only to ignore the next warning signals. We blame luck as individuals; we blame it as groups; as companies and as a nation.
It’s bad luck that this year my town in Connecticut has suffered from total of 14 days without electricity. We still sit in the dark – 4 days after the snow... (more)
Once there was a bank, let's call it C, and the bank would not provide credit for its loyal customer, R, who had been with C for many years. Even though C kept taking R's money, she always had good excuses why she would not yield. “You're not from here,” she'd say. But then R moved here, and two years later, C ran out of excuses, and one day, just like this, she offered R a credit card.
It was blue and smooth, and had diamonds on it, and although R's limit was only $300, he was delighted. Now, he thought, he could build his credit history, and become a true American, with debt, and... (more)
A great celebration in Gaza is anticipated, as a thousand prisoners are about to be released. Prisoners with many heads on their belts: heads of butchered children, of toddlers, of people who took the wrong turn; prisoners who planted bombs in school busses, or knifed civilians and cut their hearts out.
In return for these prisoners, a single Israeli soldier will be released. And the Arab street is rejoicing. Not only does it celebrate the release of sons and daughters. It celebrates bringing Israeli to its knees. A thousand to one, can there be a bigger victory against the empire of... (more)
The sight of a needle about to pierce the skin sends shivers down many backs, enough to prevent them from going for a medical treatment, enough to block their minds from considering blood donation. According to Red Cross statistics, a mere 3% of US citizens have ever donated blood, a much lower rate than in most of Europe, and a real problem for the blood bank here in the US.
Donating blood was a regular part of my life. Since I was a teenager, I would donate blood twice a year. I the many countries I lived in, the process was nearly identical: step into a station nearby, fill in... (more)
Pressing our noses against the car’s murky back windows we could see piles of bricks and other building materials. Plumbing pipes were scattered in a pile at no particular order, like in a large game of Pick Up Stix. One of the pipes had pierced a large paper bag and a trickle of cement powder was pouring out through the hole. A slightly chipped ceramic toilet seat stood on top of the pile fastened with a washing line.
“They are here, Mother, they are here,” cried Dafna excitingly.
“Who are they?” Tali enquired.
“The builders. They’re going to build our toilet.”