AMNA NAWAZ: Well, since its joint attack with the U.S.

on Saturday, Israel has faced a wave of drone and missile attacks from Iran and has also come under fire from Iranian proxy Hezbollah in Lebanon.

Producer Karl Bostic spoke with Israelis in Tel Aviv today.

And Nick Schifrin brings us their stories.

NICK SCHIFRIN: Today in Tel Aviv, Shaked Ze'evi and her daughter's neighborhood park is no longer a safe haven, just behind them, their apartment, windows blackened and gutted by an Iranian missile.

SHAKED ZE'EVI, Mother: Our house got hit.

The windows in the kids room fell.

NICK SCHIFRIN: Today is the first day that she and 1.5-year-old Gaya have returned since last weekend's attack.

So she hugged her daughter just a little tighter.

SHAKED ZE'EVI: It's really sad, really sad.

I don't know what we're going to do.

NICK SCHIFRIN: Iran has fired hundreds of missiles and drones at Israel.

The deadly fireworks and the sirens are constant.

Toddlers understand and inherit their parents' fear, so Ze'evi tried to turn her daughter's frown upside down.

SHAKED ZE'EVI: So every time there is a siren going on, she would start repeating it.

Wee, wee, wee, wee.

We're trying to do it at home with smiles and musical kind of way, so she won't be scared.

So we would run through the shelter laughing and singing, trying to make it more -- not as scary.

Gaya, at 1.5 years old, knows when it's time to go to the shelter.

NICK SCHIFRIN: The city is filled with broken windows, some cleaned up by 18-year-old Israeli-American Ron Shifroni.

He's a volunteer who delayed college in the states after growing up here in Israel.

RON SHIFRONI, American-Israeli Volunteer: We kind of grew up on this mentality in Israel where we always got to help each other no matter what happens.

And we're ready for every scenario.

And then, whether it's a rocket or October 7, we're just -- all we grew up is the values of going and helping out each other.

NICK SCHIFRIN: He cleans up inside people's damaged apartments.

He wants to serve in the military, but didn't think he'd end up in the middle of war in the country of his birth.

RON SHIFRONI: It's really devastating that it's my home country, it's my home after all, so I really -- I want to live in peace.

NICK SCHIFRIN: But Israel is not at peace, and for every damaged house is a displaced family... SHANINE ROTH, Israel Resident: Hello.

NICK SCHIFRIN: ... trying to turn a hotel into a makeshift home, Shanine Roth (ph) greets her grandmother, Dorica Israeli; 84-year-old Israeli is older than the state of Israel, but she knows this is a different type of war.

DORICA ISRAELI, Israel Resident (through translator): Here the wars don't end, and this war is a bit harder than the previous ones.

Roth has translated for "PBS News Hour" and was translating for her grandmother when interrupted by this city's shattering soundtrack.

(SIRENS BLARING) SHANINE ROTH: Yes, we need to go.

NICK SCHIFRIN: This is their routine, made normal since October 7.

They walk away to a nearby shelter and to an uncertain future.

(SIRENS BLARING) NICK SCHIFRIN: The sirens are all too routine outside Sheba Hospital, as is outgoing missile defense hunting incoming Iranian missiles.

And in these times of war, this passageway doesn't only lead to a shelter, because three stories down through reinforced doors is a fully functioning hospital that has 2,000 beds and three operating rooms and has operated almost constantly since last summer's war with Iran.

DR.

YOEL HAR-EVEN, Sheba Medical Center: Almost all the activity of Sheba and other hospitals went now underground due to the different ammunition that we are getting from Iran.

NICK SCHIFRIN: Dr.

Yoel Har-Even is a vice president at this hospital with thousands of visitors every day and staff that must cope with their own displacements and find their own moments of peace.

DR.

YOEL HAR-EVEN: We don't have time to play.

We need to be ready within a few hours and start moving our patients from the upper floors to the basement.

NICK SCHIFRIN: That shift also apparent in Dizengoff, the city's largest mall, where behind the reinforced door four floors down is now the city's largest shelter; 4,000 people rushed here just last night, including 12-year-old Eden, 10-year-old Lev, and their father, Jeffrey Lubotta.

JEFFREY LUBOTTA, Evacuee: We do actually live not far from a bomb shelter, but it means no sleep through the night, up all the time running outside to the bomb shelter and it's crowded, cramped, lots of dogs.

So here we can just remain, sleep through the night, have space, and during the day there's a mall above us, little shopping, little food collecting.

NICK SCHIFRIN: A little humor helps, and the kids are happy they don't have to go to school.

But for many here, beneath that facade is pain.

SIENNA, Evacuee: I think as a nation we have got collective trauma.

I think it's like something that's kind of on the whole we all have.

NICK SCHIFRIN: Sienna, who declined to give her last name, admits she doesn't know when she will feel safe again living above ground.

SIENNA: Yes, I'm processing the possibility I might be here for a week or two.

I might be here for a few months.

Who knows how time goes on.

NICK SCHIFRIN: She and everyone here try to bring some color to the concrete.

SIENNA: We learn how to get on with it, but this is not how every day should look.

We're just trying to find the best in an absolutely horrendous situation.

At the end of the day, people are dying, people's homes are getting destroyed.

NICK SCHIFRIN: And that means it is not easy.

As the country wages war, some of its residents are driven underground.

For the "PBS News Hour," I'm Nick Schifrin.