When Sirens Sound

What does life look like when the siren sounds? Read how some of our facilities cope with the constant bombardment.

The boys are in the Beis Medrash. Suddenly, all phones begin beeping loudly in unison, interrupting their diligent learning. This is a signal that a ballistic missile has been launched and detected. Startled, the boys jump up, close their Gemaras, and move as quickly as they can toward the door.

They lived through the trauma and destruction that a fallen missile caused the Yeshiva last summer. They don’t want to be in the Yeshiva if it happens again. Because the new Yeshiva building does not yet have a miklat, they hurry down the block to a nearby school that has remained open specifically to shelter the boys at night. They fling open the door of the school, out of breath — but safe.

Running from their Beis Medrash down the block to a school miklat every time a siren sounds is no easy thing — especially when it happens multiple times throughout the day and night. But our boys would rather do that than sit at home, because sitting at home doing nothing is exactly what they were doing before they arrived at Yeshivas Nezer Yehoshua’s doorstep. They crave the fulfillment that our structure provides, and they won’t leave for anything. But the need to keep them safe is real. As one staff member put it:

“There was one day that it was literally raining missile shrapnel. We need to get our boys into a miklat on campus immediately!”

We have already begun building our new Yeshiva building, and the miklat is the top priority. Our contractor has informed us that it will be ready in just three more weeks. We hope there will be no need — but that is our priority. Please help us quicken the pace and give our boys a chance to breathe.

Please help us build the new Yeshiva miklat. Click here to JOIN OUR RAFFLE!

The girls on the fourth floor hear the siren begin to wail and their hearts drop into their stomachs once again.

From the top of the building, they rush to the staircase,
          from the fourth floor,
                  to the third floor,
                          to the second floor,
                                  to the first floor,
                                          and finally to the dining room, which serves as the building’s miklat.

They are out of breath and panicked — but they are safe.

Because schools have closed, our staff has stepped into the role of teachers, providers of structure, and the steady presence our children need to balance their turbulent minds amid the loss of normalcy that the war has brought. Our staff members are true heroes who suppress their own fears and uncertainties in order to give our children as much security as possible. Each day, the girls gather together to daven and say Tehillim, and then begin their “school” curriculum. We have hired tutors for those who need individual attention, and we have thought through every detail — not skipping even the extracurricular activities, which may be the most important part of their day. Read more about how we take care of our children’s structure throughout all of Israel’s recent wars.

The boys have all made it into the Beis Medrash, which serves as the miklat of the dormitory.

They begin reciting Tehillim, one after another, together, as the siren continues to wail.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

They shake from the fright of the deafening booms.

The building shakes from the impact.

But they know that once they hear the boom, they are safe. 

The boys are in the dormitory, learning together as best they can alongside their dedicated Madrichim. Because the Beis Medrash serves as the building’s miklat, they are fortunately able to daven and learn with a sense of calm and peace of mind. Their heartfelt prayers and studious learning are certainly a source of strength for the entire Jewish People. As a whole, the lack of outside structure is a real challenge for many of these boys — especially those who have grown so much since the unstructured days before their arrival at Keren Hayeled. Our incredible staff is deeply aware of this, and they work tirelessly to keep the boys busy, high-spirited, and strong.

Like all children in Israel at a time of war, our children need to be hugged and nurtured, and to be reassured that everything will be ok. We are doing our best here on the ground. But you can too. Show them you’re here for them — even from afar.