Brutality in the city

The intentional use of excessive force is not novel in the Middle East, nor, unfortunately is it unusual in Jerusalem, per say. However the massacre that took place on July 2nd, in the heart of this holy metropolis, was nothing short of the most serious type of offensive that a being could perpetrate against others.

This allegedly spontaneous, independently executed occurrence, though, regrettably not a rarity among the cruelties suffered by our people, either in current times or during the course of our history, was an incalculable tragedy. Whenever a single individual, let alone multiple persons, are compelled to forfeit their lives, we can be confident that we are witnessing a cosmically-sanctioned disaster. On certain levels, catastrophes are not accidents.

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A bat bayit's aliyah, part I

Sometimes I don't mind living vicariously. When a much loved bat bayit made aliyah last week, I had no compunction feeling joy and gratitude through her transformation. In fact, I feel grateful to be part of her estimable life.

Before I was able to feel my most recent rush of gratitude, however, I had had to deal with pragmatics. Specifically, Missy Youngest and I woke up at dark to catch a ride to the center of town, from where we took a Nefesh Bnefesh-sponsored hasaha to Ben Gurion Airport. We packed potato chips for Missy Youngest and goat yogurt for me, a Sefer Tehillim and a siddur, welcome signs for our new olah, and a few items that our beloved immigrant had requested.

Baruch Hashem, because my family has merited knowing many of this year's new citizens, even the cab driver who we called before 5 am was familiar with our routine; cab to city center, hasaha to airport, hasaha back to Jerusalem and then local buses to school and to home. When he picked us up, he didn't ask where we were going, but how many olim we were meeting.

Yerushalmi Dazed

The Old World does not equal the New World in any sense of twinning. Here, one can experience, within a short stack of hours, those qualities that are otherwise impossible to grasp: the shining faces of yungermen exiting a Jerusalem shiur; the daytime streaks of lights from Shemyim; and the stars which twinkle, in a distinctive fashion, only above Tzion.

On a more mundane level, in this land of Benyamin, also within a short stack of hours, one can witness barefoot school children seeking dumpster kittens (our very own Missy Oldest likely leads this parade of shoe-challenged youth), dumpster cats breeding new generations while avoiding Jerusalem cab drivers, and Jerusalem cab drivers acting with laxity when encountering other vehicles, yet with earnestness when encountering all manners of human emergencies.