Israel is under attack. Families are running for shelter. Stand with Israel. Stand with the people who refuse to break.

On Friday night, as I lit my Shabbat candles, my phone sat beside me, its volume on and screen awake.

For months, we have lived with the knowledge that another war with Iran was not a question of if, but when. Since October 7th, that sense has lingered in the background of Israeli life, and more presently, since the most recent war with Iran in June 2025. As a young mother, I often describe it like being in the ninth month of pregnancy, every cramp feels like it could be the moment, only to go two weeks overdue. You brace yourself. You prepare. And then you wait.

This past week, the signs intensified. American military presence increased across the region. Evacuations were reported. Ben Gurion Airport felt heavier. When Ambassador Mike Huckabee encouraged non-essential personnel to leave the embassy and made clear that Friday would be the final day, the air shifted. We did not know the details. But we knew something was coming, soon.

So I cleaned out our bomb shelter.

In normal times, our shelter doubles as a guest room, my husband’s office, and the catch-all for whatever clutter we cannot deal with. But I cleared it. I bought extra snacks. I reorganized puzzles and games in what we jokingly call our wartime closet, the stash of new activities saved for exactly this moment. If you know, you know.

Shabbat night passed quietly.

At 8:13 on Saturday morning, air raid sirens wailed across Israel for the first time in months.

Iran, the regime that openly calls for the destruction of Israel, began firing ballistic missiles at Israeli cities. On Shabbat. On Shabbat Zachor, the Sabbath of Remembrance. The day of the year where have a mitzvah a commandment to never forget the evils of Amalek, the nation who continuously tries to kill us. 

My husband and older son were at synagogue. I was home with my two daughters and our baby. When the first alert came through, I gathered them calmly and we moved into our fortified room. What amazes me is not the fear. It is the competence. My children, still so small, know exactly what to do. Two and a half years of war have taught them procedures no child should master.

Our apartment sits directly behind the neighborhood siren. When it sounds, it does not echo faintly in the distance. It pierces the walls.

We spent nearly 80 percent of our day in our fortified room.

We completed three puzzles. Two brand new games from the wartime closet were opened. Snacks rationed between alerts. We would receive an all-clear, step out cautiously, and attempt a normal Shabbat rhythm, only for another notification to pull us back.

At one point, after a lull, I took my two oldest children to the small park across the street. My son grabbed his scooter. “So I can get home faster,” he said. They pumped their legs on the swings with a kind of urgency children should not know.

When the next alert came, I was grateful my phone was in my hand, something I was permitted to do – despite the fact that it was Shabbat. We ran. Across the street. Up the stairs. Door shut. Back to the puzzle.

This was not just my story. It was the story of millions of Israeli families this Shabbat. Some are veteran Israelis. Some moved here only months ago. Some have already endured sirens from Gaza, Lebanon, or Yemen. And now, Iran.

This war is not theoretical. It is not geopolitical analysis on a cable news panel. It is children doing puzzles in a fortified room. It is ordinary people bracing for the next alert.

DONATE HERE TO HELP ISRAELIS UNDER ATTACK

As I write this, my beautiful children are fast asleep, piled together in our guest-room-office-clutter-turned-fortified room. We called it a sibling slumber party. Good night, my sweet ones. May tonight’s noises fade into nothing more than a dream.

We were okay today.

But many people were not, and will continue to struggle over the coming days and weeks.

For many Israelis, the safe room is not inside their home. It is in a neighboring building. It is down flights of stairs. It is across a parking lot. Elderly parents run in panic. Children sleep in basements. Families who were already living below their means now face days without work, with mounting expenses and mounting fear.

If you believe that standing with Israel is more than a slogan, if you believe it is a biblical and moral mandate, now is the moment to act.

Israel365 is working with trusted, on the ground partners to deliver emergency support directly to families under fire, temporary housing for those displaced, food and supplies for families who fled with nothing, medical assistance, and psychological support for children who have lived through multiple wars in just a few years.

Please stand with us.

Donate here:
https://israel365charity.com/our-projects/israel-is-at-war/

Caption: The author’s safe room – prepared for her children in anticipation of a night ahead of ballistic missiles. 

Iran Is Bombing Israel Again — Families Need Your Help Right Now

Iran has begun what may be its most devastating assault on Israeli soil. Ballistic missiles and drones are striking homes, apartment buildings, and neighborhoods across Israel — and families are hiding in safe rooms, praying the walls hold.