In the house of my friend Rabbi Elchanan, Tania and Ania. The morning is not morning, and the afternoon is nothing but a fog of day. The members of the household walk nervously on tiptoe, and every slightest noise jolts them from their peace - which is no longer there.
Heavy household items are moved from their places and are not in order, and the house, which has long been no longer a place of safety, has become a den of people.
Clutter and clutter prevail in everything.
And no, this is not a troublesome emergency that came, not to you, to their home. His wife and three children, whom he will live with, are in good health, praise be to God. Even the cholesterol levels, good and bad, are in positive indicators for all members of the household. Without the evil eye.
Everything went smoothly and pleasantly, until that bitter and hasty morning when the household members saw a small, flexible animal slowly walking between the room and the living room, full of pleasure, as if this was not a private apartment but the streets of a neighborhood.
A small, gray, and disgusting mouse, which had already disappeared somewhere between a wall and a closet, was the one that suddenly disrupted the peace of mind, and unknowingly changed the daily routine of five people, from standard to panic.
You do not, and I hope you never will, have the slightest idea, even the faintest, of the disgusting feeling that accompanies a person in the first moment, and in the other moments that follow, when he encounters a real, flexible, grayish mouse, wandering around his own home, in his own private and personal territory.
The feeling of the household members is indescribable. They were filled with confusion and disgust, and their knees almost buckled in terror and anxiety from the unclean and disgusting creation that was roaming between their feet.
Glue traps, which were located somewhere in one of the closets, were spread out on the floor as an act of first aid, and the people left the house with a feeling of escape and disgust.
""In every trauma you go through," my friend tried to explain to me, "you always find comfort in your own home and in your own private room. There is always the bed you can escape to in times of trouble or distress, to recharge your batteries and get some fresh air. But what comfort is there, if any, when the terrible blow is inside your own home and in your own bedroom?""
The truth is, I completely identified with him.
It's never pleasant to feel tied down, especially not in the place where you're usually the freest in the world.
•
The unfortunate friend had meanwhile managed to bring a professional to his house who lined the ground with traps of various species and colored poisons, and managed to lower the level of anxiety in the house with a host of promises.
He even managed, not on you, to collect in a garbage can the corpse of an eyeless mouse, which had died between a hammer and anvil, a hundredth of a second before eating the bait. The eye, by the way, was also collected and thrown into the central neighborhood trash in the middle of the night.
But he left me with an insight, a bit interesting, I must say.
The friend, who I consider a humane and considerate guy, apparently acted this time outside the rules of normative ethics.
Why did he decide to impose a death sentence on every mouse and not try better ways first? Why didn't he warn the president of the Mouse Association about the danger they posed in invading his home? - He, the honorable homeowner, could have hung notices around his house, at eye level, calling out to all long-tailed mice, because their presence was disturbing, and even very disturbing, to the original residents of the house.
And if they don't evacuate the house themselves, say within two to three hours, they will find their death stuck to cardboard or with their heads stuck between a spring and a tree.
Zero, none of the above was done, the traps were set and from that moment on, a 'death sentence' was imposed on the head of any mouse that invaded the house.
The reason for this is clear: the mice, their dignity in their place, are not proficient enough in reading the notices hanging around the house, with the possible exception of the portrait of Rabbi Yesha'ela of Kersttier, and of course they have no understanding of the nuances of human language.
The only way, then, to eradicate those infiltrators is to destroy them. And no, there is no crime against humanity or racism of any kind here. When the only language is force, everyone admits that it must be spoken.
•
It's not that the Arabs are rats, don't get me wrong. It's also not that the only way to talk to them is through a death sentence.
You exaggerated.
But something about this lack of communication, between us and our glasses-free cousins, reminded me of the profound insight that had been renewed in my eyes about humanity and social relationships.
""When the only language is power, everyone admits that it must be spoken.".
Good luck to the security forces.
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