Hativka Still Makes Me Cry 22/7/08

This has been a huge week. And it is still only Tuesday. The week started out with the fast of the 17th of Tamuz where we begin the mourning period leading up to the 9th of Av. The 17th of Tamuz mourns the processes that was set in motion and brought about the destruction of the Temple and the theft of the holy vessels. It is supposed to be a very sad day even though I unfortunately have a hard time truly connecting to it. I fasted nonetheless and spending a day not eating or drinking is enough to make anyone start thinking. And with last weeks return home of 2 of our missing soldiers, there was plenty to think about. I am very torn about how I feel about the seemingly outrageous price that we paid to get back 2 badly preserved bodies while at the same time being proud that Israel is a place that will try to get its soldiers home no matter what. Daniel Gordis has a very moving piece that looks at the prisoner swap in a very positive light.

Yesterday I went to my new apartment to check on our new paint job. It is so exciting to have a place of my own where I can do whatever I want with and really make my true home. The wedding is in 3 weeks and 2 days and it makes me so excited to be working on building our home together.

From the apartment I went to meet up with my cousins, the Metzgers, to drive all the way down to Mitzpe Ramon (most of the way down to Eilat) for Lia’s graduation from Officers School. The ceremony itself was pretty standard and no that exciting, but getting to watch almost 400 young Israelis, most of them younger than me, becoming officers was a great experience. Unfortunately this country is a place where the military is a necessity and war is always on the horizon. With the reports of increasing draft dodging, knowing that there are still hundreds of soldiers who feel it is necessary to serve our country on a higher level is reassuring. The thing that touched me the most about the tekes was how emotional I still am during the singing of Hatikva, Israel’s national anthem. It has been over a year and I still tear up if not cry full out whenever the anthem is sung. The feeling was even more powerful standing in a stadium of hundreds of new officers and thousands of proud parents, siblings, and friends who all are proud to be part of this place. Sometimes I feel a bit like a cheese-ball for being so emotional, but I keep reminding myself that the very existence of this country is a miracle and it is a miracle to be part of it.

This morning I woke up bright and early at 5:15 to head to the airport to help welcome my friend Arielle’s flight. She is moving here by herself, going to the Israeli version of the seminary program I attended, and then going into the army as part of their program. I think she is even braver than I am and feel really proud to be her friend. This was my first time to a Nefesh B Nefesh welcoming ceremony since my own and it was wonderful to be there as a ‘veteran’. They had something really neat set up for the flight: in addition to broadcasting the whole thing live on the internet for the benefit of family and friends all over the world, they had the feed up on the screens in the reception hall so we could watch everyone disembarking. Arielle was one of the first off the plane so I rushed to the entrance to be able to meet her bus. When she came out I ran and gave her a huge hug and we both started sobbing. There are few people who can truly understand what it feels like to leave everything you know and love to come to a difficult place out of love and staunch ideology. It is comforting to be able to share my life experiences with such people. There are pictures of us on the arutz 7 website (link) I am the one who is hugging someone and I’m wearing a bright yellow shirt with white polka dots. We danced with some of her other friends and then went back inside for the rest of the “fesitivities”.

The main attraction though was an 88 year old woman who was making Aliyah. She is a Holocaust survivor who attempted to move to Israel once before the Holocaust and then again on the Exodus. She didn’t make it either time and today she finally realized her dream of becoming an Israeli citizen. She was ceremoniously awarded her Immigrant Document to a standing ovation from a crowd of over 700 people. It was very moving and absolutely fantastic to get to be part of her finally realizing her dream.

When we stood to sing Hativka Arielle barely made it through the first 3 words before she started sobbing and I was crying silently beside her. Twice in two days I felt the powerful emotions that drew me here much stronger than usual. I was proud to be here and I shared in her joy and disbelief that she is finally an Israeli after so much time planning and waiting and wishing. This is not an easy place to be but I still believe that it is the only place to be.

Unfortunately, this afternoon there was yet more reason for crying. Our dream as expressed in the anthem “To be a free nation in our own land, the land of Zion and Jerusalem” was once again threatened. A copycat terrorist took a bulldozer from his place of work and went on another rampage in downtown Jerusalem, this time much closer to my home. Fortunatley no one was killed this time and only 1 person is considered to have been “seriously” injured. The terrorist, an Israeli ID carrying East Jerusalem resident, was killed. The second terror attack in 3 weeks of this kind makes me sad and upset and a little bit scared. I also feel frusteration and despair. On the one hand we want to make the Palestinians life as easy as possible, but on the other hand there are people who really do want to kill us. How do we survive with our lives and our hearts intact? Is there a solution? Will there ever be one that will work that doesn’t include a devastating war and the decimation of an entire people (please G-d that it won’t be us who is decimated once again)?

I have Tikva , hope, that one day things here will be peaceful, but for now I try my best to keep my head up high and not to loose hope.