Elisheva+Arnowitz

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= = =Israel faces=

[] Elisheva Arnowitz 4.06.09 Melisa Weglein Neveh Channa

  =Rationale = In my project I have chosen to interview a doctor who helped build the Efrat Emergency Room and he also volunteers in MDA. The reason I chose Doctor Glick is because I too volunteer in MDA, and I feel that he may have some of my views of Israel. The //will to help other people// is something that seems to be radiating from all over of Doctor Glick work, something that I feel that is an important part of Israel. The goal of the Israel faces project is to display your image of Israel. In my opinion Israel is a country full of good people, who help each other. Not only that, but Israel is a country with a fighting spirit, a spirit that allows us to survive the hardships of our Israeli life. This fighting spirit is another thing that I feel that is important in Israel and I hope to show it in my project.

=Profile =

Doctor Yitzhak Glick was born in the 1950ies in New York, USA. He was raised in a Jewish religious orthodox community. In the seventies his family made Aliya; he was 14 years old. The transition from New York to Beer Sheba was very hard on him and his family, but in the long term he is happy that he made Aliya. Thanks to his Aliya, doctor Glick feels connected to Israel: he feels that he is not just a Jew but an Israeli.

Doctor Glick sees Israel as a spiritual country, a country which is full of self sacrifice and helping each other, and even though for part of his month he works in America, it is only for financial benefits. Doctor Glick feels a part of Israel and is proud of being an Israeli. For him Israel is a country filled with different individuals that create the whole. Or like he says- we are all "one small component of a one big chollent"- although we are all different from each other, mixing us together creates a good country that its uniqueness is made special by the differences of the components.

Doctor Glick is very tolerant of differences: in his opinion you should respect the other person's belief, even if they contradict your own and by working together you will get a better result than if you were two different groups. A good example for that is the Israeli army: in it young and spirited Israelis, for the first time in their lives, encounter other young and spirited Israelis from different sections of Israel. Together they learn to become soldiers of the same side. When the time came for young Yitzhak Glick to choose a profession, he wanted to work in something of medicine, and so he did. Nowadays, Doctor Glick works twelve days every month in the emergency room of a hospital in America. For the rest of the month (eighteen days) he comes back to Israel and spends his time volunteering as a Doctor in MDA. Doctor Glick likes his work as a Doctor. He enjoys the excitement of working in an ER, meeting new people and helping them. While volunteering in MDA as opposed to being a "real" Doctor, you hardly have an opportunity to get to know the patient and there is hardly any chance to cure him but there is a big probability you will save his life, and that’s why Doctor Glick thinks that MDA is a very good organization that uses volunteers and specialists to help people all over the country.

Along with volunteering in MDA, Doctor Glick works to establish an emergency room in Efrat named "Machar", the point of that establishment is to provide medical help 24/7. In ** 'The Efrat Emergency Medical Center' webpage they say: ** "We serve as the only advanced emergency care available for the entire Gush Etzion, Hevron and Kiryat-Arba region, encompassing more then 30 towns and settlements." (The Efrat Emergency Medical Center: A Community Project, 1) The founder of that helpful center is Doctor Glick//.//

Doctor Glick has no plans of changing his schedules for the near future; after all he has no regrets of the meaningful choices in his life. All his life, he believed in his way which consists of- helping others, accepting people different from yourself and contributing in your own way to advance towards your ideal. In my opinion his principles and way of life represents the Israeli spirit.

 =Background research =

Doctor Glick is not the only Israeli doctor that practices his art out of his own country; there are many Israeli doctors who volunteer to help weak and troubled countries. Israel even sends those doctors to help in world crises like in the case of the 2004 tsunami. On December 26, 2004 there was an undersea earthquake in the Indian Ocean, which triggered a lethal tsunami. "The highest death toll was from Sumatra where 1,30,736 persons were confirmed dead. This was followed by Sri Lanka where 35,322 fatalities were confirmed… In terms of the tsunami, it is the deadliest in recorded history and overshadows the past tsunami disasters." (M9.1 Sumatra-Andaman Earthquake & Tsunami, 2004, 1) As seen from the quote from in the article "  M9.1 Sumatra-Andaman Earthquake & Tsunami, 2004 " that was published in Amateur Seismic Centre- the tsunami claimed so many casualties, but there were just as many and even more injured. The countries hit by the tsunami like Sri Lanka and Thailand needed a lot of medical help, more help than what they could supply for themselves. Thus the "all mighty" citizens of the world volunteered to help Sri Lanka. Among the doctors who came to help there were Israeli doctors. Along with doctors, Israel also donated a lot of equipment and supplies. [|Here] is a summary of Israel's help in the tsunami. The tsunami isn't the first time Israel has helped needed countries with medical support- In her article named, "Israel sends doctors, supplies to aid tsunami victims  " Leora Eren Frucht says:  "//Israel has a long history of providing emergency aid to disaster-hit areas of the world, dating back to 1953 - just 5 years after independence - when the nascent state sent navy personnel to help Greece following a severe earthquake. Since then, Israeli medical, army and humanitarian aid personnel have become prominent partners in// // virtually all international relief effort // " (Leora Eren Frucht, 1)       

 = = =Literary connection =  The Last Leaf by O Henry In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!

So, to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."

At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'hôte of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.

That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."

Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.

One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, gray eyebrow.

"She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. " And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?"

"She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day." said Sue.

"Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?"

"A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind."

"Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."

After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.

Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.

She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.

As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.

Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward.

"Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together.

Sue look solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks.

"What is it, dear?" asked Sue.

"Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now."

"Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie."

"Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?"

"Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a new building. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self."

"You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, I don't want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too."

"Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down."

"Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly.

"I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves."

"Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves."

"Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I come back."

Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.

Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.

Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings.

"Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy."

"She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet."

"You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."

Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit miner on an upturned kettle for a rock.

When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade.

"Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a whisper.

Wearily Sue obeyed.

But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground.

"It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the same time."

"Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow, "think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"

But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed.

The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to its stem against the wall. And then, with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed, while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low Dutch eaves.

When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.

The ivy leaf was still there.

Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove.

"I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to die. You may bring a me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook."

And hour later she said:

"Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."

The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left.

"Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking hand in his. "With good nursing you'll win." And now I must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his name is - some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more comfortable."

The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now - that's all."

And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all.

"I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colors mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."

The last leaf is a short story by O Henry, <span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-font-family: Centaur; mso-hansi-font-family: Centaur;"> The story begins with a great depression, poor Johnsy has caught a lethal sickness, and now she is counting the leaves falling from an ivy plant, when the last of the leaves fall, she shall die. But even though rain and wind shook the leaves- the last leaf held tightly to the vine. The struggle of the last leaf brought an epiphany to young Johnsy, and she too decided to continue to live on. Johnsy might have never regained her will to live if not for Behrman, an old painter that was her friend, who painted a leaf on the wall, the night that the last leaf fell, sacrificing his life in the process.

In this story by O Henry there is a very important message of hope and self sacrifice. Johnsy doesn't believe in her own strength and so she feels her life is in danger, no medical way can cure her because she herself has given up. And yet the thing she chooses to symbolize her life is a leaf. A green newly grown leaf surely is not a symbol of death and desperation: quite the opposite and so deep inside Johnsy does believe in her self and wishes too live. Like her, so is Israel, our wills might shatter by the cold weapons of our foes but we will always return with our wills renewed, for we believe in our selves as the sun believes that she is hot.

In O Henry's story Jhonsey's friend, Sue says: "look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew?" The leaf which represented for jhonsy death actually represents life and the unwavering hope of life and growth.

Likewise, in real life, in the poem the old generation sacrifices themselves for the hope of the new generation. As Behrman sacrifices himself by drawing the last leaf so Jhonsy will continue holding on to life, so do we. Each one of us is prepared to die to protect all that is dear to us, our children, our future, and the ones who will inherit the iron spirit of Israel.

<span style="display: block; font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; text-align: left; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: HE; msoansilanguage: EN-USmso-fareast-font-family; msofareastfontfamily: 'Times New Roman'; msofareastlanguage: EN-US; msobidilanguage: HE;"> =Creative connection=

In the creative connection I wanted to do something that relates to me- which is drawing. I like to draw and I draw all the time. In my comic I wanted to show what Israel is to me. I might not have been accurate in all of my sayings in the comic but I think I gave some opinions of other people's Israel and my own idea of Israel. My comic doesn't really need an explanation, it's pretty much obvious what I am trying to say, and so have fun reading it.

<span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: HE;"> =<span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: HE;">Reflection = <span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: HE;"> This project objective is to explain what Israel is to me, I feel as if I really had a chance to show my opinion of Israel. In the literary connection I have expressed the self sacrificing and fighting spirit of Israel. And in the profile of Doctor Glick, I have shown the side of Israel which consists of helping others and accepting the different. My opinion of what is Israel has changed a bit since the beginning of the project. The interview with Doctor Glick has affected the way I see Israel. Since then I have included the diversities of Israel as part of its uniqueness, and it is now apart of how I see Israel. Doing this big project was hard, sometimes I had no idea what to do and only a day was separating me from the due date, other times the part I was doing was boring or something I did not have a good idea what to do (like in the background article). But not all is bad, I did have some parts in this project which I had enjoyed doing them= The part which I liked the most out of the entire project is the creative connection which allowed me to show, not only with words, what is Israel to me (plus I had fun drawing my comic).

<span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: HE;"> =<span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: HE;">Bibliography =

<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; mso-ascii-font-family: 'Arial Narrow'; mso-hansi-font-family: 'Arial Narrow'; msoasciifontfamily: 'Arial Narrow'; msohansifontfamily: 'Arial Narrow';">
 * __The Efrat Emergency Medical Center: A Community Project__****. The Efrat Emergency Medical Center, 19.4.09**
 * [|http://efratemergencymedical.org] **
 * <span style="display: block; font-family: 'Arial Narrow'; text-align: left; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; msobidifontfamily: Arial;">Frucht, Leora Eren. __Israel__ __Sends Doctors, Supplies to Aid Tsunami Victims.__ 29 Dec. 2004. 22 March. 2009 [] **

<span style="font-family: 'Arial Narrow'; text-decoration: none; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; msobidifontfamily: Arial;"> **__ Israeli humanitarian groups determined to send relief to Iranian quake victims, __**** israel21c staff, 04, January 2004. 22 March. 2009 ** <span style="font-family: Arial; text-decoration: none; mso-ascii-font-family: 'Arial Narrow'; mso-hansi-font-family: 'Arial Narrow'; msoasciifontfamily: 'Arial Narrow'; msohansifontfamily: 'Arial Narrow';">
 * Glick, Yitzhak, Personal interview, 2.4.09 **
 * __ [] __**

= The Last Leaf, O Henry, 10 may 2009 = = [] = <span style="font-family: 'Arial Narrow'; text-decoration: none; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; msobidifontfamily: Arial;"> **__ M9.1 Sumatra-Andaman Earthquake & Tsunami, 2004, __**** Amateur Seismic Centre, 22 Feb 2008, 22 March. 2009 ** <span style="font-family: Arial; mso-ascii-font-family: 'Arial Narrow'; mso-hansi-font-family: 'Arial Narrow';"> <span style="font-family: 'Arial Narrow'; text-decoration: none; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; msobidifontfamily: Arial;"> **__ What Israel Did to Help the Victims of the Tsunami Disaster. __**** Israeli Foreign Ministry. 17 ** <span style="font-family: 'Arial Narrow'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; msospacerun: yes; msobidifontfamily: Arial;"> ** [] **
 * <span style="display: block; font-family: 'Arial Narrow'; text-align: left; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; msobidifontfamily: Arial;">[] **
 * Jan. 2005. 22 March. 2009 **