The impenetrable fence built to protect our communities on the Gaza border is gone. Even though I am a religious Jew and we do not watch television on the sabbath, my eyes are on the screen. She has tears in her eyes the television is at full volume.
I have heard only one siren in my seven years in Jerusalem. On October 7, the sabbath of the Rejoicing of the Torah, I wake early, to pray in quiet as the sun rises over the holy city. Israel has welcomed me as a daughter, and I welcome newcomers as a sister. People without family or connections are cherished in my home. A young Muslim man, a “lone soldier”-a member of the IDF without family in Israel-adopted me, or rather, I adopted him. Christians from the United States, participants in the Shabbat of a Lifetime program, have sung in my garden.
In these good years, I have hosted thousands of sabbath meals for travelers from every part of the world. Seven years ago, I moved from New York to Jerusalem. For I desire loving kindness, not sacrifices devotion to God, rather than burnt offerings (Hosea 6:6).
