I was in contact with my husband who was shot and wounded (lightly) by Hamas terrorists and had difficulty finding evacuation to the hospital, and I supported my biological and adopted children who were terrified to the core.
The next day, when a squad of five terrorists arrived at the fence of our kibbutz and a shootout ensued, I decided to ask my husband, who had just returned to the kibbutz, after I had confirmed with him that he was able to drive, to take the children to friends in the Arava.
We lost quite a few dear friends who were murdered by Hamas. I didn't feel like a hero, I didn't feel like a trailblazer, I felt tired, angry and sad.
It was clear to me that I was staying to take care of the barn, the team and the cows.
We reduced the work in the barn to the necessary minimum, milking and feeding.
Most of the team, which is made up of dedicated dairy farmers from all over the world, Israelis, new immigrants, foreign workers, interns, and Bedouins, showed dedication, and in moments of crisis I encouraged and supported, yet some of the team left due to the situation.
The missing employees were replaced by volunteers who supported us and warmed our hearts.
Our kibbutz was considered a closed military zone for many weeks, and I was required to issue transit permits to some of the workers. I am proud that at the Urim Farm we managed to maintain a milking routine of three milkings a day without giving up even one milking.
In spite of everything that we have been through and are still going through, our regional council is wounded, bleeding and disintegrated, but despite this, from the state's point of view, we, Urim, Tze'elim and Gvulot, are not a part, the Israeli government does not recognize us as entitled, neither to an orderly evacuation, nor to compensation, nor to support, neither fully nor partially.
Nothing.
I have been a dairy farmer at Kibbutz Urim for over 12 years, of which six years I served as a manager. The dairy industry has experienced many upheavals in recent times.
A sword is placed on our necks with the threat of canceling the milk quotas and opening the market to imports.
I see the farm as a form of Zionism, maintaining the borders and maintaining food safety.
That's how I was brought up, that's how I felt and that's what I believe.
I love what I do and will continue to do as long as I can.
Thank you to Keren Kayemeth LeIsrael for considering me worthy."