Skip to main content

Israel in Seconds, Minutes And Hours

I find myself for once, lost for words.

I have been giving great thought to what I could write on the occasion of my beloved's 60th birthday and struggling with the words I could use to express my adoration of the country that is Israel?

I know that anything I say won't be able to describe how I feel.

Words are sometimes inadequate when they are needed the most.

I could say that I'm so proud to be a lover of Israel.

I could continue by stating that I am so fortunate to have grown up visiting the country, year after year, decade after decade.

I would then add that my heart only feels in place when I step off the plane at Ben Gurion.

But I would soon find myself descending into a morass of cliches - because the feelings I have for Eretz Yisrael, cannot be vocalised.

So I'll try something different.

If you think of Israel as being 1 minute made up of 60 seconds (you can see where I'm going with this), imagine how wonderful that minute could be.

What about an hour, with each minute representing one year of Israel's existence. Could one single hour's events be as glorious or heartbreaking as the anniversary we are celebrating in a few hours?

To me, Israel is both the minute and the hour.

It is the minute that disappears far too quickly and the hour during whose duration, entire lives are created and lived. I am proud to be reaching Israel's second minute, second hour.

Maybe in the next 60 seconds or 60 minutes, the ratio of joy to pain will be higher? Maybe the next 60 minutes will allow our souls to soar, without worrying that they may sink to the lowest place on earth?

I'm not going to add any more because in the last 60 seconds, whilst reading this you have spent your precious time sharing my deepest emotions - and I can't think of a better way of expressing how I feel right now about this very very special birthday.

Chag Sameach.
Let the festivities commence.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ten Jewberry Muds

To get the full effect, this message should be read out loud. You will understand what 'tenjewberrymuds' means by the end of the conversation. This has been nominated for the best email of 2005. The following is a telephone exchange between a hotel guest and room-service at a hotel in Asia, which was recorded and published in the FarEast Economic Review: Room Service (RS): "Morrin. Roon sirbees." Guest (G): "Sorry, I thought I dialed room-service." RS: "Rye..Roon sirbees..morrin! Jewish to oddor sunteen??" G: "Uh..yes..I'd like some bacon and eggs." RS: "Ow July den?" G: "What??" RS: "Ow July den?...pryed, boyud, poochd?" G: "Oh, the eggs! How do I like them? Sorry, scrambled please." RS: "Ow July dee baykem? Crease?" G: "Crisp will be fine." RS: "Hokay. An Sahn toes?" G: "What?" RS: "An toes. July Sahn toes?" G: "I don't think so."...

Magic Moments

At the end of a sunny day, Dana decided to start a water fight. She sprinkled a bit of tap water in my direction. Then her eyes lit up and she ran out of the room. I of course thought nothing of it, until she returned with a filled water pistol! That was it - The race was on to remember where I'd hidden the other three unopened packets. With pistols at the ready, the kids got in on the act and what could have been a ginormous water fight was almost immediately curtailed as Shira did not appreciate being spritzed in the face. The sheer impulsiveness of the moment was Dana all over and it's one of the things that I love so much about her. The pistols have been seized and are ready, waiting for another day when I predict we are all seriously going to have the most amazing and floodworthy water-fight. I can't wait (and neither can the kids).

A Breed Apart

I'll start with that rarest of things (at least for me), namely an apology. A number of people who read this blog have approached me and asked me how the new job is panning out. I know I should have followed the original posts with updates, but honestly, I came back so tired from work, that I didn't have the will to compose any reports. In short, I am really happy in my new school. The students line up outside the door to my classroom (yes, my classroom) quietly instead of rushing in like a pack of deranged beasts and then, to my utter delight, stand , yes STAND(!!) behind their chairs and wait until I tell them to be seated. These students are actually listening to my instructions. When I tell them to switch their monitors off, they do what I ask. I don't find myself having to wait for fifteen minutes until they can be bothered to be quiet, they do something that I've been longing to experience for two years - they show an interest, in fact, a very keen interest, in w...