Gordon Stevens - Peace on Earth

The party finished at one. They told cook she could do the washing up in the morning and went to bed.

‘You know, darling,’ his wife said as they went to sleep, ‘I have a feeling this is going to be your year.’

Two months after they arrived in Israel, Yakov Zubko and his family were given their new home. It wasn’t big, the social worker from the Jewish Agency told them when she called them to her office, and it wasn’t in the city, yet she believed them when they told her it didn’t matter, that at least it was home.

The following weekend Yakov Zubko took his family to see it. They rose at five, Yakov making breakfast and tidying the flat while Alexandra packed them sandwiches as she had done the day they began their journey out of Russia. The social worker had suggested she come with them but had not been surprised when they declined her offer. We, the family Zubko, managed to leave Russia, they told her and we, the family Zubko, can find our own way to our home.

They caught the bus before the sun was up, leaving the city and travelling east, the morning still cool, passing through Ramla and Jerusalem before turning south towards Hebron. They had been out of Tel Aviv before, had knelt at the Wailing Wall and stood in silence at Yad Vashem; but today was different. When she did not have to hold her daughter, Alexandra squeezed Yakov’s hand.

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