I began confronting soldiers. In a loud voice, I asked them if they were proud of what they were doing, if this is peace, if this is what they want Israel to become. I shouted, "Baruch hashem Adonai" (Blessed be the name of the Lord).
The soldiers tried their best to ignore me, but I am sure they heard me. I ignored their commands for me to leave. One soldier spat at me, so I walked right up to him and invited him to spit on me. He declined the offer.

Three soldiers aimed their guns at and moved toward a group of Palestinian bystanders. It looked to me like they were going to shoot. I quickly jumped in front of the soldiers, raised my hands in the air and shouted, "Shoot me, shoot me, go ahead and shoot me." The soldiers immediately left.

A tank came roaring towards me, its big gun barrel aimed at me. I raised my hands in the air in prayer, and shouted, "Shoot, shoot, Baruch hashem adonai." The tank stopped within inches of me.

I then knelt in the street in prayer, with my hands raised. I felt alone, weak, helpless. I could only cry out to God.

Later this afternoon I went back to Al Manara and watched shop owners dig through the huge piles of rubble, trying to salvage what they could.