Every time I rewind the black wire around the handle of white Fohn He remembered the years in Gush Katif, where every day between patrols and raids, snuggled up to seven times the shel yad right arm during morning prayer. Between the fact that he was left handed and to wrap the tefillah from the biceps to the forearm while not Hasidim, perhaps because they had received a few dislikes.
Today, when asked again what he had in common with his fellow soldiers, he replied with the words of another jew restless: "I have nothing in common even with myself."
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