As I returned two chairs to the synagogue in London yesterday I opened the back of my car to offload them. A fellow (that seems to be a male word) congregant rushed to “help” me as he said I was “a woman”. I countered that I work on a farm but he insisted on lifting the chairs out anyway!

In Ukraine women and children try to cross the border and their menfolk stay behind (voluntarily or compulsorily) to fight. There are women in the army but in a family someone has to take care of the children. Amongst the metropolitan young families I know in England I see a greater sharing of childcare than ever but there is a long way to go and maybe that is why in most so called “developed” countries in the world (including China) the birth rate is plummeting – women don’t want the responsibility and restrictions of childcare.

At the moment everything is subsumed, in my head and heart, by the War. I turn off the news for fear of becoming paralysed by sadness and also anger and impotence. I have joined a WhatsApp group with live updates from a mission who have flown to Poland from Israel with essentials and donated money to buy goods, medicines and generators to take across the border to Lviv. They are also bringing supplies to newly arrived refugees in Poland. So many want to help from so many countries as we watch the destruction of Ukraine. We are applying sticking plasters to a gaping wound – it seems that is all we can do.