Even by the afternoon hours of that last day of the Sukkot Holiday, the skeptics wondered:

 

Who is crazy enough to build a sukkah now at the end of the holiday? And who would sit and eat outside? And actually – why? We had never done this.

 

However, in each "Sukkah group" there was the "madman" who was surrounded by his children and their friends, children who had always loved to build and decorate Sukkahs. All the more so, when the parents were also serious about this. And so, it happened that in the afternoon, in the neighborhood of the veterans, from all corners of the lawns - the banging of hammers and the words of the builders and those of the decorators were heard.

And the competition for the most beautiful sukkah was in full swing - - -

 

He who dared to steal away from the decoration of his own Sukkah and went on a tour of the veteran's neighborhood came across unusual sights: old friends taking pains to drag ancient stones into the sukkah and female members decorating them with huge squill wreaths; Grandparents climbing trees and hanging paper lanterns.

 

While the children had been working on the beading olives and dates, and creating skulls and faces out of watermelons and eggplants -- -

 

In our sukkah my mandolin awoke from its long-dormant sleep, which miraculously remembered all our "early songs" of those days.

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When everything around us blossomed less and everything inside us blossomed more. The children and the young French visitor, who happened to come by chance, wonder at the softness that suddenly filled the small sukkah ---