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Our Hurt

I'm really hurting.

I'm hurting because a savage of a man walked in Yeshivat Mercaz Harav - a place that I remember passing as I made my way to visit my cousins in Kiryat Moshe, Jerusalem - and shot seven young Jewish boys in cold blood in the libary.

I'm hurting because Palestinians in Gaza spent the next two hours shooting guns in the air to celebrate the tragedy.

I'm hurting.

I'm hurting.

Today, we were informed that OFSTED will be visiting our school on Tuesday and Wednesday. Anyone who knows what these inspections are like (and I've been through two already) is very well aware of how difficult and challenging the next few days will be for all the teachers in our school. However, after seeing the news from our precious city, my situation seems so irrelevant when considering the overall scheme of things.

On Thursday, our ordeal will be over, but will any of the families of those bochurim (young men) fell any relief as they get up for their respective Shiva's (a mourning period of seven days subsequent to the funeral)?

I doubt it.

I'm hurting.

And OFSTED has nothing to do with.

At least, not since I received that Breaking News email from CNN.
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