Children from the south enjoying life's simple pleasures during a Respite Day at the
Safari in Ramat Gan. 

January 13, 2009 / 17 Tevet 5769

Rivka Boim and her five children get off the bus at the Safari in Ramat Gan like any other Israeli family. The children are excited, and Rivka pushes her year-old son in his carriage while keeping her eye on the other children.

Rivka Boim with her baby enjoying a Jewish Agency Respite Day Activities at the Safari in Ramat Gan.

But the Boim's are not a normal Israeli family. They live in Kfar Maimon, a moshav (rural community) three miles from the border of the Gaza Strip. For eight years they have been running for cover every time a missile slams into Israel; fearing for their lives. Rivka is a strong woman. "We are not leaving our home," she says point blank. "Of course there is anxiety and tension, but when the parents are strong, the children are strong. If we move, then half the country under attack will need to move."

Since the outbreak of Operation Cast Lead, Rivka and her children have heard the constant sound of battle. "The wind comes from the West, from Gaza. We hear the IDF's artillery fire, the planes, the explosions, and of course the red alert siren that means that the danger is coming toward us."

Under orders from the Home Front Command, residents within rocket and missile range need to stay close to their protected rooms. The Boim children have not been out in over two weeks.

But on this balmy day in mid-January they are at the Safari in Ramat Gan with 800 other children and parents from the beleaguered South. The sun is shining, the children are running freely and for once no one is thinking about where the nearest shelter is. It is a day without missiles, a godsend for these war-weary citizens.

Children from the south enjoying life's simple pleasures during a Respite Day at the Safari in Ramat Gan.

Within twelve hours of receiving funding from UJC for these much-needed respite days, the Jewish Agency organized 16 buses for 800 children and their parents to the Safari in Ramat Gan. Another 600 children went that same day to amusement parks and other attractions in central Israel.

In the course of one week, the Jewish Agency will bring 23,500 children out of the range of missile fire to participate in fun activities elsewhere in Israel. 

"I am glad that Jews around the world are thinking about our children," says Rivka. "And that they haven't forgotten us."

The children of Prosper and Etty Bouenos, from Ashkelon, laugh as they watch the dignified penguins perform their antics for the crowd. Prosper, who works for Israel's national water company, Mekorot, says that the situation is completely surrealistic. "We live a very good life in Ashkelon. All of a sudden we are being attacked by rockets, and our existence revolves around listening for the red alert sirens and running to our protected room."

The Prospers came to the Safari with their neighbor Nati Ben David, whose husband was called up for emergency reserve duty. Both Prosper and Nati agree that this day has given them some breathing space; time to unwind. "We have been in the house for two weeks and the tension is sometimes unbearable," says Nati. "But we try to be strong for our children."

Children from the south enjoying life's simple pleasures during a Respite Day at the Safari in Ramat Gan.

The current outbreak of hostilities cross all social, economic and religious borders. Walking around the Safari are people from inner cities and rural communities, religious and non-religious, new immigrants and veteran Israelis. Everyone is on the front-line together, and together they face danger every minute of every day.

Eight-year-old Raziel Guenoun lives in Ashdod with his four brothers and sister. The family made aliyah from Brooklyn four years ago, although his mother was born in Atlanta. His father is Israeli.

"When I hear the siren I am scared," says Raziel softly. He looks at the elephants frolicking, as if gaining some inner strength and adds, "But then I feel OK. I just want the war to finish." 

His mother, Miriam Guenoun, a vivacious woman who runs with five children, including a baby, down two flights of steps to take cover whenever there is a red alert siren, says, "This day at the Safari has been so good for all of us. We are here with my kids and their cousins and for once we are not thinking about war. We are so appreciative to the Jewish Agency for everything they are doing for us."

Avital Ashek, participating in a Respite Day at the Safari in Ramat Gan, recalls the day a missile hit her house. It was a miracle no one was hurt.

Avital Ashek, from a moshav near Ashdod, is relieved to be with her children, friends and co-workers at the Safari. She recalls the day a grad missile fell directly on her house. "When I heard the siren I ran with my husband and five children to our protected room. We closed the door and seconds later we heard a tremendous noise. The missile hit our home. It was a Chanukah miracle that we weren't hurt."

Thousands of kids from Ashdod, Ashkelon, Netivot, Beersheva, Sderot and Gaza perimeter communities are touring Jerusalem, visiting the Biblical Zoo, historical sites, and museums. They are finally able to let loose at amusement parks and enjoy shows and concerts in central Israel. All of them will be able to forget, for a short time at least, that in Southern Israel life cannot be taken for granted.

Click here to view and download a poignant video clip of residents from the south enjoying a respite day at the Safari.