A huge bulldozer had entered my yard. Its bucket slowly rose, and a second later it came crashing down on the wall of my house with a deafening bang.

— My God… what are you doing?! — I screamed, running toward the gate.

The house I had lived in all my life was collapsing before my eyes. Every falling brick felt like a stab in my heart. My husband and I had built that house with our own hands — board by board, stone by stone. My children had grown up there; my whole life had taken place there.