I couldn't take the burden of seeing the settlers, the inhabitants of Sadot, Nissanit and other beautiful villages, being uprooted from their land. But the sights haunted us from the television screens. My elder son, who remembered our house, watched the screen and every time he saw the ruined buildings, he cried: "they broke our house".
Indeed, today I think about the settlers, trying to imagine what is going to happen to their lives, and I say to myself: "let's hope it doesn't happen to us". I wish they wouldn't have to experience the uprooting either. How would they be able to look at their children's eyes when they start taking the pictures off the walls and pack their clothes? I don't wish to anyone to feel this feeling. To leave a garden that you tended, to leave the orchards that you planted, to leave your own home.