A good friend told me today that in her shelter no one talks to anyone else.  They just sit there for 10 minutes and then leave.  Then she asked me what happens in our shelter.  Let’s see – on Friday night I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the kitchen.  And the noise of the refrigerator opening brought the cat to the kitchen, the cat I thought Ezi let out hours before.  So I put on my shoes and coat and went downstairs to open the door of our building for her.  

That’s when I heard a bunch of people talking in Arabic.  How strange, I thought, and went to bed. 

But before I could actually fall asleep the siren went off and we raced down stairs.  The only people who joined us in the shelter were one neighbor and the group of party-goers.  And the party was ready to continue.  I had left a few games in the shelter, but nothing really appealing.  “You promised to bring puzzles next time!”  Someone said to me, and I realized it was right.  I have been insistent to take our personal discomforts lightly.  

But now I am sorry I didn’t go around the room and shake everyone’s hand.