Is It Worth It?

Wow, it’s really easy to hate Israel today. Really, it’s not much of a challenge.  Don’t believe me?  Well, just read on.

1. Though a small minority even among the ultra-Orthodox, there is still a small but vocal group of religious radicals determined to erase all evidence of equality of the sexes all in the name of religion.  They want ALL women here to sit in the back of the bus. They want ALL women to be covered from head to toe, and they audaciously argue that it is this desire that proves just how much they respect those of us with the extra X chromosome.  So they have access to medical care and enjoy the right to vote without serving in National Service or the army. So what?  They are on a mission from G-d and if they have to throw stones at 7-year-old girls for not dressing modestly enough, so be it.
2. We have a national rabbinate that is anything but representative of national interests.  People’s earnest conversions are rejected like yesterday’s bread and there is no sensitivity to the fact that their behavior plays a critical role in Israeli-Diaspora relations.
3. While soundly rejected, recent proposed legislation would have limited foreign donations to local non-profit organizations.  Some of these organizations are tiny; a staff of 5or 8 people trying to improve the lot of one segment of society or another.  The only way they can stay afloat is to solicit donations from abroad.  Cutting that source of funding is insuring a certain death.
4. In trying to encourage our ex-pats to come home, we managed to insult American Jews from L.A. to New York.  While asserting the importance of a united worldwide Jewish front, we act more and more myopic.

 

So what’s the answer? Join the Jewish nay-sayers who argue that the Zionist enterprise has outlived its purpose?  Start donating to Palestinian causes hoping that by buttressing the other side, the Israel experiment will finally fail?  Stop funding any and all Israeli projects because segments of its side have put forward positions that are anathema to most of us? No. No! NO!

 

Is life in Israel becoming more complex?  Yes. Do we have a radical element within our own borders?  Yes.  Are there elected politicians whose politics make most of us squirm.  You bet.  So what do we do?

 

I write “we” because I honestly believe that the responsibility rests on all of us whether we are living in Modiin, Melbourne, Merrick or Montreal.  So what do we do?

 

1.  Believe that we’re in it for the long haul.  Maybe it sounds corny but I really believe it.  We were a commonwealth from 1010 BCE until 586 BCE and then again from 536 BCE until 70 CE.  But after the destruction of the Second Temple, we were without a homeland for 1,878 years.  Yes, there are a lot of problems, serious ones, plaguing Israeli society today but we shouldn’t give up after only 63 years.  Are we really prepared to wait another 1,878 years for another chance?
2. When reading about proposed legislation, focus on the word “proposed”.  Some of the more problematic ideas were proposals and never even made it to a first reading (three are needed for legislation to become law).  That’s not to say that we shouldn’t be disturbed by threats to free-speech and individual rights but a proposal does not mean that the country has become another Iran or Saudi Arabia.  For all of our problems, we have to remember that we can still argue, debate, cajole and persuade, get into bed and start the process all over again tomorrow without fear of threats to our jobs, our families or are lives.  Don’t take that for granted. It’s sad to say but in today’s world, that’s becoming something of a luxury but one that Israel will continue to enjoy.
3. Trust the majority but remember who are neighbors are.  For us, the murderous rampage in Syria is not just a video clip on CNN and Egypt’s mayhem is not just an editorial in The New York Times.  For us, Syria is on the other side of Mount Hermon where some of us are hoping to ski next week.  Egypt is adjacent to where we like to snorkel.    Some are going to have some pretty radical ideas for how to respond to life in this neighborhood.  But trust the majority.  Most of us know that existential dangers are still not an excuse for threatening civil liberties. Sometimes a proposal is just a proposal
4. Criticize responsibly. Yes, we should all be concerned about the radical voices from within our own borders/religion.  Yes, we need to point out the dangers of these positions.  But we have to learn to not throw the baby out with the bathwater.  OK, I know it’s a cliché but an apt one.  Don’t criticize the entire Zionist enterprise because of a troubling minority.  Protest, criticize, and write letters.  It’s your responsibility and your right. Just remember to limit the criticism to the particular issue at hand.  There’s so much good and staying focus will help us fix what’s broken without destroying the good.  And there is a lot of good.
5. Visit Israel.  Stake your claim.  For Jews, no matter where you live, this land is still yours.  For Christians, so much of your history is rooted here.  The more involved you are, the more your voices will continue to be heard.  And, hoping not to sound too crass, money talks.  The more you visit, the more you contribute to the local economy and the more you contribute, the more your voices will be heard.

 

So yes, there is a lot that’s frustrating in Israeli society right now.  But are we really going to give up after 63 years?  I don’t know about you but I’m not willing to wait another 1,878 years to try it again.

On the lighter side, please read , ”Is it Worth It, Part 2” tomorrow.

 

Think of It This Way

Recently, I saw a posting on Facebook that bothered me.  In posting a link to an article about proposed changes to Israel’s Basic Law, a person commented

“The right wing in Israel is doing everything to alienate many Diaspora Jews from their homeland.”

Among other things, Knesset Member Avi Dichter, who authored the bill, is proposing that the Arab language’s position be changed from “official” to one of “special status”.  That’s disturbing for the 20% of our population who are Arabs. Other proposals in the bill are equally troubling.  Several NGOs (non-government organizations) have sent the Knesset very strongly-worded opposition papers.

While I don’t understand all of the particulars of the bill, I understand enough to know that I don’t like it.  Many Israelis don’t.  But interestingly enough, this proposal is not the work of a right-wing fringe party but the centrist Kadima party of which Avi Dichter is a member. The bill has a long way to go before it can become law.  It must pass not one, not two, but three parliamentary readings at which time the bill can be modified, vetoed or voted into law.  I hope it doesn’t.

But, Avi Dichter presented his bill without fear of physical retribution.  And Debbie Gild-Hayo, the Director of Policy Advocacy for the Israeli Association of Civil Rights, does not go to sleep at night worrying if her family will be harmed because of her strong opposition to the proposed legislation.  And my worst fear is that people will publically criticize me on my blog for posting this.  And that’s how it should be.  It’s how it should be, but sadly, civilized discourse with its rhythm of proposals, criticism, and modifications is being rejected in favor of threats and brutal murders throughout much of this part of the world.  Look around us.  Syria, Egypt, Libya, and Yemen just to name a few.  And let’s not forget our Hamas buddies in Gaza.

So yes, the bill is troubling and I, like many Israelis, hope it makes its way into the computer trash can of oblivion.  But, no matter what happens, I think that people everywhere can be proud to publicly support a country that still recognizes the right to propose news laws without fearing that they won’t be alive to see the results.

 

The Price of Life

One of my classmates was surfing the Internet during the last night’s lecture.  Looking around class these days, I know that’s not an uncommon occurrence. But usually, students try to hide their in-class electronic distractions.  Last night proved to be different.  In the middle of a rather tense lecture about preparing for final exams, David* bellowed, “There’s a deal to free Schalit!” That was it.  No more attention to how many points the essay section was worth and how much time you had for the oral exam.  Almost everyone opened up their browser to start following a story that had been 1,935 days in the making.

I want to be happy for this deal.  Every Israeli wants to be happy about this deal.  You see, Giald Schalit’s family so represents the common Israeli (if there I such a thing), that we have all been touched, in some way, by their saga. They are not a wealthy family.  They were not, until his tragic abduction took place on June 25, 2006, a famous family.  They were a family, like all of ours; one who sent their children to the army praying that they would return home unscathed at the end of their service. They lived, and still live, in a small, bucolic town in the Western Galilee high above the remains of the Montfort Crusader castle.  Like his older brother, Yoel, he served in the Tank Corps until he was captured in a cross-border raid.  And ever since that day, his plight, and the plight of his parents, brother and sister have consumed the hearts of many across the country.

Gilad’s parents, Noam and Aviva, have worked tirelessly to work for their son’s release.  They have done everything and anything to try to see their son again.  They have met with Netanyahu and members of the Knesset (Israeli Parliament).  They have met with religious and political leaders from around the world.  They’ve organized the Free Gilad Schalit organization which bombarded the country with Free Gilad bumper stickers, tee shirts and oversized banners hanging from rooftops and office buildings. Though not religious, they held prayer vigils.  People posted calendars on their Facebook pages reminding us each day of how many days Gilad had suffered in captivity.  They organized rallies and, to insure that Israeli politicians would not forget their son, they set up a tent outside the prime minister’s office so that anyone walking by would remember that one of our own was still being held captive. No one could have done anything more than the Schalits did to win back their son’s freedom.

 I was there on Tisha B’av in 2009, the national day of mourning when we remember the destruction of the 1^st and 2^nd Temples.  Hundreds had come to comfort the Noam and Aviva that night.  I use their first names not because I know them personally but because they have become so much a part of the fabric of daily Israeli life that it would feel strange to refer to them in a more formal way. After offering a hug, a kiss, or just a supportive glance, we all sat quietly as Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi Yona Metzger chanted the book of Lamentations.  It was awful leaving the tent that night knowing that we would return to our complete families while the Schalits were still not whole.

And now, 1935 days after his capture, there is hope.  But hope comes at a price.  In this case, a very heavy price.  While Aviva Schalit may soon be able to know the simple joy of her son’s touch or the satisfaction of preparing her son’s favorite food, there are families today who know that Gilad’s release means freedom for men who killed their sons, daughters, parents and children. One third of the 1,027 prisoners expected to be released in exchange for Gilad’s freedom are directly responsible for terrorist attacks.  While it’s thrilling to see pictures of a smiling Aviva Schalit, it’s painful to think about the faces of all of the family members who today know that the man who destroyed their family forever may shortly enjoy the taste of freedom.

And while pictures of cheering citizens fill my computer screen, I’m glad that I did not have to vote on the deal.

 

I hope that everyone has a wonderful Sukkot.

First, The Lighter Side

I want to wish everyone a chag smaeach (happy holidays.
I ran to the Raanana Mall on Monday and took a picture of what might just be the most creative sukkah ever.  If you’re not sure, the entire structure, “people” and “ceiling fixture” are all made of balloons.
 
Enjoy!

We Should All be Ashamed / We Should All Find Solace

Normally, it’s this time of year when I write about how fun and spiritually uplifting to live here. Everywhere you go, people are wishing you a happy new year and trading hiking suggestions for the best trails to explore as everyone takes to the national parks during the upcoming Sukkot vacation.  So it saddens me to have to write this piece, but I really feel compelled to write it.
 
Early Sunday morning, residents of the Bedouin village, Tuba Zanghariya, discovered extensive damage to the main mosque in their village.  Walls, carpets, and religious books were burned. Hebrew graffiti with the words “Revenge” and Price tag” indicated that cowardly right-wing Jewish extremists were most likely responsible for the vandalism.  I am ashamed and outraged that there are Jews in this country who somehow feel justified in sneaking into a village in the middle of the night and destroying someone’s house of worship. It is a defilement of Judaism and certainly does not represent the ideology of the vast majority of Israeli citizens.
 
Despite my disgust, I am consoled by the fact that President Shimon Peres and Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi Yona Metzger already visited the village and publicly denounced the act while Prime Minister Netanyahu promised that the criminals will be severely punished for this hate crime. Our government will not tolerate vandalism of religious sites; any religious site. I’m grateful that our leaders are not turning a blind eye just because the perpetrators are most likely fellow Jews. The country’s moral foundation is still firm, and we can all take solace in that fact.
 
In just a few days, we will be celebrating Yom Kippur where we ask G-d to forgive us and inscribe us in the Book of Life.  It’s customary here to end conversations with friends and co-workers with the wish for a “gamar chatima tova”.  Literally translated, it means that you should end with a good inscription meaning that your prayers are heard and that you will once again be inscribed int he Book of Life.
 
I want to wish all of a you a Gamar Chatima Tova

Onnie

It’s a Warm and Fuzzy Kind of Insanity

OK, so it’s my 9th Rosh HaShana here and I should already be oblivious to the craziness of the days leading up to the “holiday Season” but the energy still thrills me.  Well, I’m not always thrilled.  I mean really, who thought that a supermarket full of stressed-out Jews was a good idea.  And not just, Jews but Israeli Jews. Certainly not me.  Seriously, it’s not normal to fight with the cashier about why the sale on wine only includes domestic and not foreign labels when there are 7 people waiting behind you! But cynicism aside, it’s a spectacular time to be here.   It’s a uniquely Israeli time of the year.

Step out of the shower in the morning.  No, it’s not your neighbor’s car horn that you hear. It’s someone blowing shofar, reminding us that the days of repentance are near.

Flowers are everywhere.  I walked past the florist at almost 10:00 last night and the cash register was still getting a workout.

And then there is the tradition of HaRamat HaCosit (the rasing of the glass) that happens in almost every office and army base across the country.  Last night, the building of Crusader fortresses in Acco had to take a short respite while we broke for apples and honey and a glass of wine, elegantly served in plastic cups I might add and wished each other a sweet and healthy new year

And, of course, it wouldn’t be Rosh HaShana without honey.  Oh, you forgot to buy it at the store?  No problem.  Get a haircut, get free honey.  But some gas, get some honey.  Visit your  friend’s daughter in the hospitalized because her diabetes is out of control, get some honey.  Yeah, there are a few kinks in the system but you get the idea. 

Every paper issues a special Rosh HaShana edition filling us with population statistics (good to know) and estimates about how much honey each citizen is likely to consume over the  month (300 grams but that’s information that’s best ignored).  

So, while I spent more time waiting in the check out line than I actually did shopping, I still get a kick out of watching an entire country getting ready to celebrate.  It’s insane but it’s a warm and fuzzy insanity; just the way I like it.

 I hope that all of you have a joyous and healthy new year.

L’chaim

Onnie

Not Now

I don’t ever want to support Israel just because I’m Israeli. I want to know that my love for this country is a true love.  That means   criticizing her when she’s wrong, while still recognizing her overall goodness and decency.  Well, this time around, I don’t think Israel is wrong.  Israel should not support the creation of a Palestinian state in tomorrow’s expected General Assembly vote.

I’ve read several articles in recent days; incredulous authors shocked that Israel could be so hypocritical as to deny another people the same ecstasy it experienced 61 years ago when resolution 181 recognizing the creation of the State of Israel was passed in the  General Assembly. On the surface, it sounds like a legitimate criticism.  Israel benefitted from a United Nations resolution.  Why shouldn’t the Palestinians enjoy the same treatment?  But dig even just a little bit, and the analogy falls apart.

First of all, proponents of this comparison are confusing form with substance.  A General Assembly resolution, while an international display of support, does not create a new country  It didn’t in 1948 and it won’t tomorrow.  In 1917, British Lord Balfour supported Jewish rights to a Jewish National Homeland in Palestine.  That was followed up in 1920 by League of Nations’ San Remo Conference where the idea of a two-state solution was first discussed.  Yes, that was followed by a General Assembly resolution recognizing Israel’s right to exist but what really made Israel a country was David Ben Gurion’s historic announcement of Israeli independence on May 14, 1948.  Ben Gurion strove to win the support of a majority to help build the nascent state.  That goal would be deemed so important that he even took the unpopular but very necessary step of  authorizing the newly created Israel Defense Force to fire on the Altalena ship; a Jewish ship that was loaded with munitions for the Irgun fringe paramilitary organization.  It was a painful moment in Jewish history.  Think about it. The Jews finally had a homeland and one of the first military operations involved firing on fellow Jews.  But Ben Gurion and his supporters knew that if they couldn’t control the fringe from the very beginning, the country would quickly dissolve into chaos.

Now, lets fast forward 60 years. Let’s put aide for the moment that the Arabs could have had a state 61 years ago if they had accepted the Partition Plan as put forward in General Assembly resolution 181.  And let’s temporarily forget that in addition to rejecting the Partition Plan, Israel’s announcement of independence was greeted by simultaneous invasions by Egypt, Syria, Jordan, Lebanon and Iraq.  Forgetting all that, tomorrow’s resolution for a Palestinian state is being put forward by Mahmud Abbas, a man whose Ph.D dissertation argued that the Holocaust was a lie and who has, on more than one occasion, argued that the new Palestine should be Judenrhein (free of Jews).  Is this the kind of nation that the General Assembly wants to welcome into its fold?

Unlike Ben Gurion, this Palestinian leader has not learned how to control the fringe.  This call for the creation of a new nation is being presented by a man who does not have the support of a significant number of Palestinians, including Hamas which has turned the Mediterranean Gaza coast into a breeding ground for corruption and terrorism.

Israel’s 2005 pullout from Gaza shows the disaster awaiting people who believe they can successfully solve disputes unilaterally.  So while I’m not intrinsically opposed to a Palestinian state, I’m not willing to welcome one just because it would make me sound even-handed to do so.  The creation of a Palestinian State has to come only after bilateral negotiations. Yes Israel will have to make painful concessions.  I know that.  And if the negotiations include making sacrifices in the name of security and self-determination for both parties, I’ll be on board. It won’t be easy to accept concessions. But I’ll be ready to do just that when the Palestinian leadership can control the fringe, when they recognize that you can’t always get everything you want and when they feel secure enough in their independence that they can even  tolerate Jews within their borders.

Shabbat Shalom,

Onnie

 

Onnie

Coming to Terms with my Army Adolescence

Growing up in a Zionist household in the States, our chests always puffed up a bit when talking about the IDF (Israel Defense Forces). Those boys (and girls) in khaki with Hebrew letters emblazoned on their chests were our Superman and Wonderwoman.  They, and the chain of command leading up to the army chief of staff could do no wrong.  They were, as my mother Libby would say, “such good Jewish kids”.

That feeling clung to my psyche for years.  Listening to the radio on my way to work,  I couldn’t bear hearing any criticism, no matter how small,  of the army who was defending “my country”.  Well, years past and I could remove the quotation marks.  It really was my country and my son and daughter were going to be those “good Jewish kids”.  And then my feelings changed.

First, it was Jonah’s initial draft letter.  Then the anxious waiting until we knew  to which unit he had been assigned.  Then the agonizing days leading up to his actual draft.  Bursting with pride but crying myself to sleep every night wondering “what I had done to my children”.  Previously, the IDF’s biggest supporter, I had turned into its biggest critic.

“The army assigned my son to the tank corps?  Are they kidding?  He’s a bookworm.  He doesn’t belong in a tank!  How could they be so ridiculous?”

“What, the army routinely ignores rules for how much sleep soldiers are supposed to get each night?”

“Who and what is this IDF and why aren’t they making sure that my son doesn’t get three solid meals every day?”

Then Rina entered the army and the litany started all over again.  While not in a combat unit, it took forever for her to find out where she would be serving and even once she knew, ikt took a long time to get an actual draft date.

There have been more than a few Shabbat meals in my house that have started with “The army is so stupid because …”  The conversation evolves, we all blow off a little steam, and eventually  we find ourselves laughing at the beurocratic behemoth that presently controls the kids’ lives until our dinner reparte meanders in a different direction.

But now, Rina is settled in her job and Jonah is almost finished with his service.  It’s been a reflective time for me.  While I don’t wish army motherhood on anyone,  I’m beginning to see, once again, what a stellar job the IDF performs.  I titled this entry “Coming to terms with my Army Adolescence” because  I have been reminded of those tumultuous years of late; the years when, having once realized that my parents were not perfect, resenting how they had the right to raise me.  And, like those years, realizing that while my parents had their own shortcomings, were truly in my corner.

As an army parent, there are plenty of times when you don’t feel like the army is in your child’s corner; commanders who cut short weekend furloughs at the last-minute;  medical appointments that don’t get made or punishments for the most minor of infractions. But recently, Jonah took part in an army right-of-passage  (and will soon take part in another) that reaffirmed my IDF faith.

He was required, as are all combat soldiers* to attend a week-long seminar addressing issues that arise in returning to civilian life: how to get health insurance, how to write a resume, and the dangers of drugs and alcohol abuse on the traditional post-army travel junket.  I thought the class would be long on lip service but short on content.  Gratefully, I was wrong.  Great attention was given to providing soldiers with information to help them make the transition back to army life.

And then, to make the transition a bit easier, Jonah, like all exiting soldiers, will soon start his Chafshash, an acronym (I have learned over the last three years that acronyms are the mother’s milk of army life) standing for Chufshat Sherut  ( Vacation from Service) whereby your last month of service entitles him to the rights of soldiers (riding the buses and trains for free, discounts at museums, etc) while enjoying the comfort of his own bed and mom’s cooking.

So, it’s not perfect, but like our parents, it doesn’t have to be.  It just has to be good enough and, thank G-d, it is.

Shabbat Shalom (Have a restful Sabbath)

Onnie

*I don’t know about non-combat soldiers as Rina has not reached this stage yet

Apologies and New Beginings

I hope that everyone is well 

I know it’s been a long time.  No excuses.  I don’t have any. But I can offer a bit of explanation. In October, the rational part of brain was taken hostage and, in a moment of temporary insanity, I returned to school to earn an Israeli tour guide license.  I’m not sure why I thought that age 49 was a good time to devote a good chunk of time studying in a language that I still manage to butcher daily (I mix gender-endings so often that even Netanyahu is starting to question his sexual identity) but it’s a decision I’m usually happy that I made. I’ve met the most wonderful people, none of whom I would have had the opportunity to meet if it were not the class. I can now include a Jewish man born in India, a pony-tailed man hailing from Mexico, a psychologist from Germany, and a remarkably bright theology student among my friends.  We are a microcosm of modern-day Israel.  If I get to class early, I’m privy to a cacophony of cell phone conversations in Portuguese, Russian, Ukrainian, Spanish, Italian, German and Hebrew. 

Still, every class is a struggle. At 49, I’m glad that I remember my own children’s names. Seriously, is there any room for remembering who was the second Muslim caliph? Well, there will have to be. But despite returning to a world of tests and papers, I wouldn’t sacrifice the relationships I’ve made for anything.

But in returning to school, I’ve dropped an important responsibility. I’ve put the blog on hold. At first I thought, “I can’t continue the blog.  I’m working. I’m in school.  I have other responsibilities.”  Then, as multiple Arab states were literally going up in flames around us, I tried to write but was terrified of returning to the task. I cannot tell you the number of times I have sat down to write only to get up, “just for a minute”, call a friend,  run a quick errand or start dinner.  Anything to avoid facing the flashing cursor.

And then, of course, there were the joyous occasions I wanted to share.  Just last week, in preparation for the Jewish holiday of Shavuot which commemorates receiving the 10 commandments, our local school, with the help of some very good-natured parents, converted the local school yard into Mount Sinai complete with a bearded Moses receiving the 10 commandments while the Jewish nation (who coincidentally resembled a lot of my neighbors’ children) “quaked in fear” below.  A few weeks earlier, the mayor cycled his way around town wishing everyone a happy Passover holiday. But still, the writing terrified me and stuck I was. Good things or bad things; for the first time in a very long time, I couldn’t share.

But recently,  the fear has abated.  Why?  I have some ideas but am not completely sure.  Maybe I am slowly (VERY SLOWLY) learning to balance the whole school-work challenge.  Maybe the class isn’t as scary as it was.  Or maybe, it’s a little of both and something else.  I’m hoping that the something else is enough to prevent me from sliding back.  What is the mystery ingredient?  It’s simple

Gratitude.  Grateful that we (Israelis) haven’t let the cyclones on every border destroy our quality of life. Grateful that I live in a country where I see that the remains of 6^th century Byzantine churches and 8^th century mosques are accorded the same respect and value as ancient synagogues.  On my first trip here in 1978, it didn’t seem like such a big deal.  Last week, traveling in the Golan just kilometers from the Syrian border, it seemed like a very big deal. And, on a very personal note, while grateful that Jonah is to be discharged in seven weeks, knowing that he wore and Rina is now wearing) the IDF uniform with pride.

So, I hope you’ll accept a very heartfelt apology and know that, while not daily, the letters/blog entries will be coming at a regular pace again.

Shabbat shalom

Onnie

What’s Wrong with Israel

Hi everybody,

Just a few humorous recent observations about this country.

Israel – where all the broken shopping carts of the world come to seek revenge on unsuspecting Zionists.

Israel – where you can’t find out who is dating Madonna or who’s getting a new reality TV show because somebody thought it was a good idea to shrink-wrap the magazines at the check out line.

Israel – where the English transliteration of street names changes on every block.  My explanation?  I think local mayors who can’t pay their employees, compensate them with  creative street sign-writing activities.

Israel - where you need a prescription for antibiotic cream but you can by cough syrup with codeine  right off the shelf

Israel – where bank managers feel perfectly comfortable saying, “Don’t worry that you don’t understand your bank statement.  Nobody does. “   And people wonder why their overdrafts are so large.

 Israel  – where you have a meeting with an executive you’ve never met before and he offers your client a discount simply because your son is in the same tank unit he was in 15 years ago.

Israel – where 3 people cut you off on the way to a picnic , you curse that you just can’t take this place anymore and then a family who has barbecued too many shish kebobs offers to share them with you even though you’ve never met each other before.

Israel - where the bus driver yelled at me saying that if I have left the house earlier, I wouldn’t have run to make the bus and then offers me a bottle of water when he sees how out of breath I am.

Have a great week,

Onnie

Israel