My Rosh Hashannah Prayer

Rosh Hashannah. It came… it went. We prayed… we ate.

We have now started the crazy season. Jewish holiday after Jewish holiday. You just get geared up and prepared for one and then another one is around the corner. Perhaps they are on special offer – buy one, get one free?!

But each one has a different character, meaning and role in our lives. Each one merits contemplation and reflection. Every holiday can teach us something about our past, which in turn can help shape our future.

Towards the end of the second day; having prayed, entertained and eaten, I took the little one out for a walk. We ended up at the park and as she worked her way enthusiastically around the swings, slide and other rides, I took in the wonderful view of the Shomron Hills. It is a view I always appreciate; hill after hill, cascading over each other as far as the eye can see. It was the afternoon and the low sun and drifting clouds spread lazy shadows over the land. The grass tones darkened in the shadows and the shades of green seemed to alter in front of my eyes as the clouds moved gently across the sky.

The infectious laughter of my daughter, delighted by her swift descents from the slide provided intermittent interruptions to the peace and quiet around me.

I thought about the recent articles in the paper; this land again appears to be on the chopping block – up for grabs, to be given away cheaply on the whim of a weak and misguided Government. Usually, at Passover, we say, ‘Next year in Jerusalem’; a 2,000 year old yearning that was finally realized with the creation of the State of Israel. This New Year, I had my own silent prayer, ‘Next year, and the year after, and the year after… may we still be living in this beautiful place; somewhere our forefathers settled; somewhere our patriarchs are buried; somewhere our future generations deserve to inherit.’

I don’t think I have ever appreciated living anywhere as much as I do living here.

I don’t think I have ever felt such gnawing fear that the place where I live, somewhere as precious as this, could be so easily discarded.

During this holiday period we consider our past and prepare for our future. We do this on an individual basis. It seems to me though, that we could do with doing this collectively.

Where are we going as a people?

How do we reconcile our own internal differences and integrate as one people?

How do we live in peace and protect our children without the need to chop more and more land away from our already tiny homeland?

And so as my daughter threw her head back in innocent glee, I said my silent prayer, hoping that faith and appreciation would in some way hold sway. Hoping that I could pause time, capture the moment, preserve our life here on this land of our forefathers; hoping , beyond hope, that it will be the land of our descendants too.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

Lights Out!!

We get power cuts on a regular basis in Israel. Living where we do, the power cuts are even more frequent.

Normally they only last a few minutes but on Friday afternoon it lasted a few hours. At first we just took a break from our Shabbat preparations; had a drink, a snack and waited for the return of the hum of the fridge. We waited and waited… but no hum, no light, no electricity.

During the outage our little one wandered into the laundry room and poked about near the washing machine. I wasn’t unduly worried but had forgotten that the safety features on the machine are controlled by electricity. Thus, on this occasion, she was actually successful at opening the washing machine door. The machine had come to an abrupt halt mid cycle and promptly poured a drum full of water over her legs and feet. She didn’t cry but had a perplexed look upon her face. I arrived on the scene, scooped her up and began the process of mopping up the leak.

Time passed by. Shabbat was coming closer. Luckily we had already prepared most of our Shabbat food for both Friday night and Saturday. However, the Friday night chicken was still uncooked and in the fridge. We began to think, ‘what if..?’ and started considering alternatives to the Friday night chicken.

However, just in the nick of time the house buzzed with the return of electricity; the phone beeped, the lights came on and the fridge positively purred with delight. Friday night chicken was back on the menu!

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

Changing perceptions

So here we are celebrating Pesach again. I can remember our last Seder in the UK, two years ago. When we read, “Next year in Jerusalem”, we did so with the thrill of knowing that, if not in Jerusalem itself, we would not be so far away.

It feels wonderful to (still) be here and to revisit and remember how our people were lead to the land of Israel. We now live in the biblical lands of Ephraim and Manasseh in Judea and Samaria. In Kfar Saba, our nearest town, lies the tombstone of Benjamin. Our connection to the land is strong and everlasting.

When we planned our aliyah we didn’t intend to live in a ‘settlement’ but ended up here after finding places that didn’t quite ‘fit’ us. We visited a few places and considered which might become ‘home’.

My mum recently came for a visit. She really is not the type of person who you would envisage walking these parts. She, to her own admission, is not the type of person, she would envisage walking these parts! When she tells her friends we live on a ‘settlement’, many of them have a preconceived idea as to what life is like here. Their only perceptions stem from the UK media, where ‘settlers’ are portrayed as angry, gun totting youths and ‘settlements’ are seen as dangerous, dusty outposts where the residents are regularly fired upon.

I took my mum for a walk around. We went to the ‘posh’ part of our community and I showed her tree lined streets and neat houses with lovely, well-kept gardens; a picture of suburban splendour. We walked along roads lined with detached villas, boasting grand entrances, long balconies, 6 bedrooms and big basements. It certainly blew some myths away.

I hope that my mum shows her photos and describes life here. The foreign media propagate such a narrow view of settlements and I am sure that her photos of villas and tree lined streets will surprise many.

I wonder how many others read, “Next year in Jerusalem”, over the Seder and either looked forward to their own impending aliyah or maybe even felt their first tug towards making their life in Israel. Certainly for us we feel we have made the right decision. We are not established here yet and have many challenges ahead but I can say with all certainly that Israel is ‘home’.

I daily marvel at the minor things in life that continue to give me a thrill; walking past (and smelling the aroma of) trees and bushes laden down with oranges, lemons, figs, grapes, olives; being a bus ride away from the golden beaches we used to travel so far to spend holidays at; being able to go to a supermarket and buy anything; being able to eat out at kosher restaurants wherever we go; or just walking around my neighbourhood and admiring the undulating hills and knowing that, generations ago, our forefathers walked these very steps. This is home in both a physical and spiritual sense. For all the hardships; for all the uncertainty; our hearts are now entrenched here.

Sharona B
www.judaicamosaica.com