Red Marbles. Matot Masaey Numbers 30

My Cousin Yizhak sent me this today. Also it is Matot Masaey Numbers 30 Bamidbar 30 What I read on my Bar Mizva as it is my Birthday on the 22nd of July, 25th of Tamuz.
RED MARBLES
I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes.
I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean,
hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my
potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a
pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.

Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr.

Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me. "Hello Barry, how
are you today?"

"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure
look good."

"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?" "No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?" asked Mr. Miller.

"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got's my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it" said Miller.

"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."

"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go
for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?" the store owner asked.

"Not zackley but almost."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way
let me look at that red marble" . Mr. Miller told the boy.

"Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a
smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all
three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them
for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their
red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all
and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange

one, when they come on their next trip to the store."

I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time
later I moved to Colorado, but I never forgot the story of this man, the
boys, and their bartering for marbles. Several years went by, each more
rapid than the previous one.

Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho
community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They
were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go,

I agreed to accompany them.

Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the
deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could Ahead of us in line

were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore
nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking.

They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's
casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke
briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes
followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his
own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary

awkwardly, wiping his eyes. Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller.

I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago

and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With
her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket. "Those three

young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me
how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them.

Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they

came to pay their debt." "We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this

world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the
richest man in Idaho ." With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless
fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely

shined red marbles.

The Moral : We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.

Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take
our breath.

Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles ~ A fresh pot of coffee you
didn't make yourself.

An unexpected phone call from an old friend.

Green stoplights on your way to work.

The fastest line at the grocery store.

A good sing-along song on the radio.

Your keys found right where you left them.

Send this to the people you'll never forget. I just Did... If you don't send

it to anyone, it means you are in way too much of a hurry to even notice the

ordinary miracles when they occur.

IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT YOU SCATTER THAT TELLS WHAT KIND OF LIFE
YOU HAVE LIVED!

4th July 2007, The Good and Bad News.

Naama 4th July 1974 -2007 33 Years Old The Winemaker of Dalton Winery. I am Naama Moalem's Uncle.
31 years to Entebbe: USA 231 years old. Naama was two years Old and USA 200 in 1976.
from wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entebbe_raid
The Entebbe raid in Uganda: 4th July 2007.
On the July 1 deadline[3], the government of Israel offered to negotiate with the hijackers in order to extend the deadline to July 4. On July 3, the Israeli cabinet approved a rescue mission[4], Operation Entebbe, under the command of Brigadier General Dan Shomron. After days of collecting intelligence and planning by Netanyahu's deputy Moshe "Muki" Betser, four Israeli Air Force C-130 Hercules transport aircraft flew secretly to Entebbe Airport, by cover of night, without aid of ground control. They were followed by an air force jet with medical facilities, which landed at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi, Kenya.

The assault on Entebbe Airport, where the hostages were held, was made up of a team of 29 IDF troops [5] and members of the elite Sayeret Matkal special forces commando unit.

Israeli Colonel Yoni Netanyahu, ground commander during Operation Entebbe

The Israeli forces landed at Entebbe an hour before midnight, with their cargo bay doors already open. A black Mercedes with accompanying Land Rovers was taken along to give the impression that the Israeli troops driving from the landed aircraft to the terminal building were an escort for Idi Amin or another high-ranking official. The Mercedes car was borrowed from an Israeli civilian and apparently spray-painted black for the raid, on the understanding that it would be returned to the owner in its original color.

The Mercedes and its escort vehicles were quickly driven by the Israeli assault team members to the airport terminal in the same fashion as Amin. However, along the way, two Ugandan sentries, who were aware that Idi Amin had recently purchased a white Mercedes to replace his black one, ordered this procession of vehicles to stop. Both of these sentries were immediately shot dead by the Israeli commandos. Fearing premature alerting of associates to the hijackers, the Israeli assault team were quickly sent into action.

The hostages were in the main hall of the airport building, directly adjacent to the runway. The Israelis sprang from their vehicles and burst into the terminal yelling, "Get down! Get down!" in both Hebrew and English. A 19-year-old French Jew named Jean-Jacques Maimoni (who chose to identify himself as an Israeli Jew to the hijackers even though he had a French passport), stood up, however. He was killed by the Israeli commandos, who mistook him for a hijacker. Another hostage, Pasko Cohen, a 52-year-old manager of an Israeli medical insurance fund, was also fatally wounded by gunfire, either from the hijackers or accidentally by the Israeli commandos. A third hostage, 56-year-old Ida Borochovitch, a Russian Jew who had immigrated to Israel, was also killed in the crossfire between the hijackers and the Israeli commandos. [6] At one point, an Israeli commando called out in Hebrew, "Where are the rest of them?" He was apparently referring to the hijackers. The hostages pointed to a connecting door of the airport's main hall, into which the Israeli commandos threw several hand grenades. They then entered the room and shot dead the three remaining hijackers, thus completing their assault.

Meanwhile, the other three C-130 Hercules had landed and unloaded armoured personnel carriers, which were to be used for defense during the anticipated hour of refueling, for the destruction of grounded Ugandan jet fighters so as to prevent them from pursuing the Israelis after their departure of Entebbe Airport, and for intelligence-gathering.

After the raid, the Israeli assault team returned to their aircraft and began loading the hostages on board. Ugandan soldiers shot at them in the process. Without suffering any fatalities of their own, the Israeli commandos returned fire, finished the loading, and then departed Entebbe Airport.

The entire assault lasted less than 30 minutes and all six of the hijackers were killed. Yonatan Netanyahu was the only Israeli commando who died during the operation. He was killed near the airport entrance, apparently by a Ugandan sniper who fired at the Israeli commandos from the nearby control tower. At least five other Israeli commandos were wounded. Out of the 103 hostages, three were killed and approximately 10 were wounded. A total of 45 Ugandan soldiers were killed during the raid, and about 11 Ugandan Army Air Force MiG-17 grounded fighter planes at Entebbe Airport were destroyed. The rescued hostages were flown out to Israel via Nairobi shortly after the fighting.

Dora Bloch[7], a 75-year-old hostage who was recovering from a much-earlier choking episode, died at Mulago hospital in Kampala after the Israelis struck. In April 1987, Henry Kyemba, who was Uganda's Attorney General and Minister of Justice at the time, told the Uganda Human Rights Commission that Dora Bloch had been dragged from her hospital bed and murdered by two army officers on Idi Amin's orders. Bloch's remains were recovered near a sugar plantation 32 km (20 miles) east of Kampala in 1979[8] after the Uganda-Tanzania War led to the end of Amin's rule.

The Bad News:
House Demolished 6am in Ajami near where I live, Found out about it Thursday.
Thanks to Yudit: http://yuditilany.blogspot.com
Zeinab and Omar Adasi woke up to the sound of a huge bulldozer today. Some 500 policemen, many of them from special units ('yasam"), surrounded their small 3-room home at 6 o'clock this morning.
The bulldozer started working before they were able to take all their things from the house which had been their home for the last 26 years. Zeinab was still in bed and barely got out of the house before its walls caved in into what only half a minute before had been her bedroom.
Zeinab and Omar have four children. the youngest of them (a 12 year old boy) is severely handicapped.
Omar used to be a construction worker, but today he lives of social security payments, due to an illness he suffers from. Zeinab spends most of her time taking care of their youngest handicapped son, who needs much attention.
All around the small family home close to the harbour new luxury buildings are being erected for the very wealthy. For 26 years Omar and Zeinab lived in the house which Zeinab's father had bought for them from its previous owner.Over time Omar added a small room, as his family became larger. They also developed a small garden next to their house. The garden land, so Omar admits, didn't belong to him.
A few months ago they were served with a demolition order. Apparently Zeinab's father had not bought all of the house or sold a room of it. The demolition order however, was taken out on all of the home.
Zeinab and Omar don't know how to read Hebrew very well and they tried to do what they could, to no avail.
This mornng they tried to convince the police to give them an hour, in order to run to the court and take out a prevention order. Their request was refused. The house was destroyed in a few hours and except for the mountain of rubble, it almost seems it never was there.

The older son was upset and screamed at the police, tried to stop them, and as a result was arrested Later today he was released.
The story is typical of what is happening in Ajami.
Many families live in what now it prime development land, close to the sea, with a lovely view. It's easy to remove poor people from their homes, especially when their reading skills aren't too developed. When they don't know their way around the bureaucracy.

The family members have nowhere to go. The handicapped child was place in foster care, the mother went to an uncle and the other three children each to another relative.
And Omar? Omar walks around in circles, crazed, in what once was his home.
I think there were tears in his eyes.

Jaffa, summer 2007

My Mum and Dad

Monday 29th January 2007, 4 years since my Mother died.
I went to Holon cemetery, Above Picture Recent.
Continue to read "Salonica City of Ghosts" by Mark Mazower.
Bought Hebrew second hand book "O Jerusalem".