They buried Rivka Lupo today. The 35-year-old woman was killed in yesterday's Katusha rocket attack upon this tree-lined, Mediterranean resort in northern Israel. Her two children lie wounded in the hospital.

She was buried in a cemetery set among the sand dunes next to the sea with the late afternoon sun slanting down upon the white tombstones. Near her grave were the flower-covered graves of two men killed in a similar attack Sunday and relatives and friends cried as a rabbi intened the ancient Jewish prayer for the dead.

"Why did Rivka have to die" asked the deputy defense minister, Mordechai Zippori who had come up from Tel Aviv to attend the funeral. "What was her sin? Rivka was murdered because she was a Jewess living in her own country, the land of Israel" he told the assembled mourners.

There was deep bitterness and deep sorrow, in this small town which was originally settled by Cerman Jews escaping Europe in the mid-1930s.

"The murderers and their masters will have the full price for their deeds," Zippori said. "The Israeli airforce today attacked some of the murderers' base. If calm is not restored to the Israeli borders we shall give them no rest."

But the people assembled at the grave seemed more concerned with the personal tragedy of Rivka Lupo, who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time when the rockets landed, than in retaliation.

Only a few miles up the coast, on the other side of the Lebanese border, there were undobutedly other funerals today and there will be more tomorrow. And many of them will be funerals for people like Rivka Lupo who happened to be the wrong place at the wrong time when the shells came.

Earlier this morning the people of Nahariya were cleaning up after yesterday attack. On Solo Street there was a burned-out Volkswagen and a nearby apartment building with shattered windows and holes in the concrete from a rocket. Workmen were tarring over the hole in the street.

About 11 this morning the siren started to wail and police trucks moved through the streets with loud speakers, saying "Everybody to the shelters." One woman twisted her hands and said "katyusha, katwater at the Penguin Cafe kept serving his customers, yusha," but most people seemed unperturbed. A muttering, "if we stop life every time, we would get nothing done." Few customers left. The nearest shelter contained only nine Arab construction workers who seemed only too glad to take a break.

At other shelter around town bicycles were parked outside. At another people waved and said there was plenty of room inside.

At a private house I found a woman knitting in the family shelter - some house have their own shelters in the backyard. She said her husband was in the avecado plantation nearby because it was harvest time.

As in other town in other wars the people of Nahariya seem as determined to live their lives as normally as possible, despite their apprehension and fear.

The town is full of rumors. Some people said that the Israeli army was already inside Lebanon. Eyewitnesses had seen the Israeli Phantoms streaking overhead to bomb Lebanon in the early morning.

A drive along the border indicated increased readiness and reinforcements coming up from the south but no evidence of ground assault into Lebanon as some Arab news agencies had reported.

Still, the situation in the north could not be described as normal and the people of Nahariya, as well as Israel's political and military leaders, are waiting to see if the morning's air raid into Labanon will bring a halt to the rocket attacks.

As a military policeman said on the outskirts of town. "This is no day for a promenade here."