This is not a story about yoghurt

 

This is not really a story about a fancy jar of yoghurt.

Small anecdote from the war #2343

When you sit down with your daughter to enjoy a special yoghurt and fruit snack and just then the rocket alert on your computer pings and it's for the kibbutz who's dairy makes the yoghurt you are eating right now.

Only you know because you met one of the folks who run the dairy at a "support the refugees" pop-up market a few weeks ago that at the moment the whole kibbutz pretty much has had to be evacuated and the people who run the dairy are currently displaced elsewhere in northern Israel being "hosted" by another dairy so they can keep producing on at least a very limited scale so that their dairy can survive.

A few brave souls have had to stay behind on the kibbutz (with army protection) to care for and milk the cows (who can't be moved) despite the regular bombardment and attempted incursions by Hizballah from southern Lebanon.

In fact the only reason you splurged on this fancy premium yoghurt is because you recognised the label and knew the story behind this kibbutz dairy.

You remember the haggard, harried, exhausted face of the dairyman you met at the pop-up market a few weeks back, worried for his future, worried whether he'd have a home to return to, worried for his fellow kibbutz members who had to stay behind for the cows (whom he also worries about), worried whether he could keep the dairy afloat, worried whether Hizballah was going to try to replicate Hamas October 7th attacks on Israel's northern border, worried whether they had built attack tunnels under the border in to his kibbutz, worried like every other Israeli about what tomorrow would bring.

And the apples you cut up to dip in the yoghurt? From another northern border kibbutz who's residents are also now refugees in their own country. During the brief ceasefire last week the army told the farmers that they could use that limited window of quiet to go back to their orchards, which are right next to the border, to mount a salvage harvest of as much as they could pick while the ceasefire held.

An emergency call went out on all the volunteer groups calling for anyone who could to go up to this northern border kibbutz (with army escort) for this rescue harvest. Farmers in safer parts of the Israel then sold the apples and kiwis on behalf of the displaced farmers.

Suddenly eating yoghurt and apples has become an act of patriotism and support for Israel's bombarded border communities and the northern refugees.