So, for those that don’t read Hebrew, Shalom! Actually, I don’t read or write it well. This became abundantly clear last week. How? Well, I was in Israel. I speak a little, not well, though I’ve been told otherwise. I know enough to get myself out of, or into trouble. I had a wonderful time. For one week, I was an Israeli, a little, maybe. My heart was there long before my body followed. I have an Israeli phone number, and at the end, I decided to keep it. Just in case I ever get to go back. So it is MY phone number, if/when I go back, I will have the same phone number. I like that thought, alot.
I also have Etz Tamar, a palm tree. I stayed with my friend Deb who is teaching at Ben Gurion University for a few months. Deb’s landlord is the brother of my friend, well and her’s too, Nissim. Nissim is a force of nature. In front of the apartment building is a huge planter, in the huge planter was a palm tree. Of a morning I would take my coffee and devotional book out there and read, think, pray, watch life in Beer Sheva, well and swill coffee. A day or so after I had been there I decided it was going to be MY palm tree for one week. So every time I was out there I would police my tree, make sure there was no trash around it. Pick up any cups or wrappers and discard them in the trash. The trash room had a couple of resident cats. There are stray cats everywhere in Israel, though they have started a spay/neuter program I understand. I might mention I never saw one mouse anywhere. I wanted to ship one back that looked like a cat I used to have named Maccabee. I still miss Maccabee.
I loved Israel, the people, the life, the land, the shopping, but most of all the adventures. I hope you can join me over the next few weeks as I share them with you.