I Wish

I wish I had words of wisdom to share. I wish I had answers instead of questions. I wish I could understand what is happening and why. I wish I could look at my daughter without worrying about the world I've brought her into. I wish there wasn't hate in the world that drove people to violence. I wish the people that have been killed over the past months were still alive. I wish the injured were not in pain. I wish that Am Yisrael wasn't experiencing constant, collective heartbreak. I wish I could walk around with headphones in without worrying if that’s a safe choice. I wish I didn’t have to have pepper spray with me at all times. I wish my buses didn’t have to be bulletproof. I wish I didn’t have to check in with my family to make sure they’re unhurt after an attack in the Gush. I wish we could live in peace with our neighbors.

I hope one day we will live in peace with our neighbors. I hope to only call my family for good things. I hope to travel on busses with normal windows. I hope to take the pepper spray off my keychain. I hope to listen to music without worry. I hope for unbroken hearts and health. I hope for love and respect. I hope for my daughter’s future.

I can only wish and hope for now. The hope will have to be enough.

Hashem Yerachem.

A Special Place

Eight weeks ago I was lucky enough to give birth to my amazing daughter- Ma’ayan Esther. Last week, on the way to my parent’s house in Efrat, Ma’ayan and I stopped to visit my mom in the Old City.

As I walked toward Shaar Yafo wearing Ma’ayan in her baby carrier, I leaned over and told Ma’ayan we were going to a very special place. On the word “special” my voice cracked and I teared up. I couldn’t believe the zchut I was about to experience. I was about to take my gorgeous, Israeli-born, Sabra daughter to the holiest city on Earth. To the place where her ancestors walked and journeyed to to be close to G-d. And this wasn’t a trip I had to book plane tickets for or plan far in advance. I got on a bus in the morning and on a whim decided to visit the Old City instead of going straight to Efrat.

In the five years since I’ve made aliyah there have been good times and hard times. In the hardest times, when I asked myself why I’ve done this to myself the answer I gave was so that my children would never have to go through this. They wouldn’t have to struggle like I did through a second language and culture in order to be home. They would just be home. Ma’ayan has now started her journey. She spent her first days in a hospital surrounded by Hebrew and “mazal tovs” instead of “congratulations”. At seven-weeks-old she “walked” the streets of Jerusalem and the Old City. And this is only the beginning. As she grows she will continue to have Israeli experiences- an Israeli gan and an Israeli school. She will speak Hebrew better than her parents and make fun of our accents. She will talk to her siblings in Hebrew because that language will be easier for them. She will have Israeli friends over and we’ll have to actually speak Hebrew in the house. Maybe she’ll even marry a Sabra and then we’ll really have to speak Hebrew in the house.

I look forward to all of these experiences and more as Ma’ayan and Beezrat Hashem her siblings are born and grow in the Holy Land. And I thank Hashem every day for my family here. My parents and siblings- who are always available to help and who have made Ma’ayan’s first few weeks so much easier. My husband- who works so hard and is always giving to me and to Ma’ayan. And now my daughter- who is adorable and amazing and will grow up in a very special place.

Graduation

Last night I stood among 800 people graduating from Bar Ilan’s social sciences programs. Some men, some women, some single, some married, some Jewish, some Arab, some native born Israelis, and some olim. We all sat together listening to a perek of tehilim, boring graduation speeches, and a couple of Jewish songs. Then we all stood and were pronounced graduates and sang hatikva. This was a very emotional experience for a number of reasons- both on a personal level for me and on a national level.
On a personal level this ceremony represented four long years of hard work. Four long years of struggling through hebrew lectures and articles. Four long years of failing exams and rewriting assignments. Four years of leaning on family, friends, and classmates for support and help. Four years of feeling dependent on others and dealing with how inadequate that made me feel. Four years of hard work and tears. I wasn’t used to struggling academically- school had never been hard for me. I certainly wasn’t used to not being able to simply follow a lecture. But I worked hard, retook tests, and redid courses.And I made it to the end. I did not do it alone, though.  My classmates gave me their notes, proofread my papers, and studied with me. My family and friends gave me unending and unconditional emotional support.  I could not have made it through those four years without these people and their help. I was incredibly proud to be able to stand with my fellow graduates, get my degree, and show that my hard work (and theirs) paid off.
On a national level it was an incredibly emotional experience to have my college graduation ceremony be in hebrew- featuring tehillim, Jewish songs, and the Israeli national anthem. It was amazing to be surrounded by the diverse crowd of graduates and their families. I felt like a part of the Jewish nation and Jewish history. I stood next to my Israeli friend- who probably wasn’t thinking about any of these things- and cried a little during hatikva. I took a moment to appreciate the stage of Jewish history I’m in and imagine how different this experience will be for my (Be’ezrat Hashem) Israeli born native children.
I am amazingly grateful for my four years of Bar Ilan and amazingly hopeful for the future. I don’t know exactly what the next few years will bring. I’m sure some of it will be hard and miserable and some of it will be amazing and fulfilling. I’m sure I will once again struggle through some of it and that some of it will bring me unending joy. I trust that Hashem will continue guiding me along the right path and that my family and friends will be there to keep me on it. And I hope to make Israel and the Jewish nation just a little bit better. Mazal tov to all my fellow graduates and good luck to us all in our next stage of life!