“Nights in the children’s house are, in effect, the melting pot of the collective education system… Today we read Lights Out as if it were a collective memoir.”
“Sweet, simple, little poems about what happens at night in the children’s house… Definitely recommended as a gift for the whole family, not necessarily from a kibbutz.”
Night after night, for six years, the same four children in the same room, in the same four beds, in the same children’s house. The parents, each with their child, give goodnight kisses and leave. The group’s housemother says goodnight, and turns off the light. Then she, too, leaves, and in the dark, in all the rooms, we pull the covers over our heads, and wait for morning. Sometimes the nightguard comes to visit, but usually we’re alone. All night long. And every night in our room, in our group, is a completely different story from all the previous nights.