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Within the confines of thick walls and barbed wire, we had the chance to catch up. 

I looked at your boy in his baggy green IDF uniform that he was so proud to be wearing. He was following in the bootsteps of his father and grandfather before him by defending the State of Israel. 

The circles under his eyes hinted at how exhausted he was. I inquired and he admitted that he was tired. ‘Here,’ he explained, gesturing to his army base, ‘there is always action.’

To illustrate his point, he removed the latest iPhone from his pocket, the phone you bought him for his last birthday. The phone lit up and began to play footage documenting last night’s ‘action’. I watched as images of a vicious dog filled the screen of his cellphone.  I listened to the snarling dog which was suddenly drowned out by angry shouts in guttural Arabic. This was replaced by soldiers shouting firm orders in Hebrew. The image bounced as a scuffle broke out. Finally, two men lay on the ground, their hands bound, surrounded by soldiers. A bundle wrapped in a yellow baby blanket lay on the ground. One soldier carefully unwrapped that bundle, uncovering a Kalashnikov rifle and two magazines, heavy with bullets.

Turning to me, with tired eyes that sparkled with pride, your son asked, ‘Can you imagine how many countless lives, we saved last night? This week? This month?’

I hesitated because I could imagine and the answer scared me. Instead of answering, I asked him if he had ever shown you such a  video documenting his service for our country. He shook his head and looked troubled. ’My mom doesn’t know,’ he said simply, hiding how. ‘And you,’ I asked. ‘How are you handling the weightiness of your responsibilities, for your country, for your people?’

His eyes met mine, his body involuntarily shrinking, reminding me once again, that he was, after all, your little boy. I pictured him As a child, coming downstairs, dressed in his Spider-Man pajamas, begging to sleep with the lights on. And the little boy, now in a green uniform and gun, answered my question with perhaps more honesty than I could handle. “I am terrified,’ he admitted. “During the day, we rotate shifts at various checkpoints, wearing full battle- gear, ceramic plates heavy in our vests’.  But I fulfill my duties.’ His eyes told me of everything that was left unsaid; the apprehension every time he put on the ceramic vest, every time he stopped a car, the ‘actions’ that weren’t filmed and the ones that didn’t end so nicely. 

The moment passed and your son continued telling his story, sitting up taller in his seat, his eyes bright with excitement, his voice once again brimming with confidence. ‘The fear and sleep-deprivation are not what I find the most challenging,’ he told me. ‘What I find the hardest part of national service, is the loss of freedom.’ 

‘Four more months,’ he said, making me wonder if he had also counted the days remaining. ‘I have already served two years and eight months. ‘It is a lifetime,’ he said, making me wince. But I realized for one so young, it probably seemed that way. ‘Four more months feels like an eternity,’ he continued. ‘The minute you are drafted into the army, you relinquish all control over your life. You are never free. Even when you are off duty, you know full well, that one phone call from your commander will have you back at the bus stop, waiting for the next bus to take you back to the base. I’ll do what I have to but I am ready for it to be done, ready for the next group to take over. Ready to reclaim my freedom.’

Maintaining eye contact, my neshamah, my soul tried desperately to communicate to your son what words could not. ‘You and so many others,’ I wanted to say, ‘Some compulsory and some serving voluntarily, have renounced your personal freedom and made so many sacrifices in order to give, to contribute, to participate in building our society, our future, our dream. Today, and every day we thank you.’

Lacking either the words or the courage to say them, I chose to express myself in action. Reaching down, I picked up the package,  filled with goodies and snacks that I had brought for him. Handing the package to him, I explained, the reason for my unexpected appearance at his army base.

Last week, Yahad: United for Israel’s Soldiers, kicked off the third annual IDF Appreciation Week benefiting over 50,000 soldiers, currently serving in the IDF today. Throughout the week, special events and activities were planned to thank the brave men and women of the IDF for everything they are doing for the State of Israel.

Beginning with special Fun Days, at Israel’s largest waterpark, for combat soldiers, followed by a day of relaxation and recuperation at the Shefayim Water Park. Over 7,000 lone soldiers, currently serving in the IDF, were able to relax and break away from their grueling routine. In addition, IDF soldiers were lauded for their service at a Fun Happening, in the main training base in the South of Israel, and at a special festival for IDF new recruits in Park Hayarkon, in Tel Aviv.

These seem like small gestures in the face of the load you bear. But as I watch you tear open the packages, laughing as you share the snacks with your buddies, you suddenly seem like the boy you really are under the uniform. And I smile.

I am here, at your army base, on behalf of the Rebecca, Mary Elana, Sarah, and Norman, and other devoted members of Yahad: United for Israel’s Soldiers global community. Despite, geographical distances, our community prays for your safety, supports your welfare and are extremely appreciative of your commitment to the State of Israel. Because even though you are not my son, you have put on a uniform and given up your childhood to protect all of Am Yisrael. And that makes you partly my responsibility.

Today, it is an honor and a privilege to have joined the Yahad: United for Israel’s Soldiers delegation. Together with Kaveret, a chain of convenience stores for soldiers, Yahad: United for Israel’s Soldiers has been traveling, all week, throughout Israel, visiting even the most remote outposts, distributing snacks and saying thank you to soldiers like you, for sacrificing their own freedom, in order to make Israel stronger and safer. 

Yahad understands that supporting the troops shouldn’t be limited to one week alone. As such, the welfare organization coordinates several year-long programs to give soldiers a helping hand. Since Israel’s security matters are a 24/7 affair, so too, is the need to ensure that our country’s protectors have their basic physical and psychological needs met so they can do their jobs to the best of their abilities.

Realizing, he probably had cars to check, more guns to grab from the hands of those who mean to harm Israel or most probably was ready for a nap, I made a pledge to your son. On behalf of Yahad: United for Israel’s Soldiers, we promise to continue doing everything in our power, to make the next four months of service, both on and off the base, as comfortable and pleasant as we can. 

Thank you for defending the State of Israel.

Yesterday, I met your son. Did he tell you?