Ever since I saw the Jeep Superbowl commercial a couple weeks ago, I’ve had a beautiful rendition of “This Land is My Land” stuck in my head. Don’t get me wrong, I love Marc Scibilia’s version, but I’ve been wondering why I can’t get it out of my head.

I realized on my scenic walk back to my dorm today that it’s been about a year since I was in Israel. Conveniently, at that moment, what song should pop up on my iPod but “This Land is My Land”, and suddenly the lyrics took on a beautiful new meaning for me.

This land is your land, this land is my land. This land was made for you and me.

As I was walking that ribbon of highway along the Haas Promenade in Jerusalem, I saw above me that beautiful, blue, endless skyway. I saw below me that golden valley, that true Jerusalem of Gold.

This land was made for you and me.

On our hike from the Mediterranean to the Kinneret and across Shvil Yisrael, the country-long hiking trail, I roamed and rambled and I followed the footsteps of my ancestors as they got up and walked the land. I saw the sparkling sands of my beloved Negev desert, and as I stood on Masada and I heard the voices sounding: Masada will not fall a second time! Am Yisrael Chai! The nation of Israel lives!

This land is your land, this land is my land. This land was made for you and me.

We have built this land, we have rebuilt this land. We have seen this land through rain and snow. We have traveled this land from the finger of the north to the heart of Jerusalem to the port of Eilat; from the Mediterranean Sea to the Dead Sea.

This land is our land. This land was made for you and me.

We have prayed, we have cried, we have danced, we have sung for our land. We have loved, we do love, and we will always love our land. We remember our past, we live out the present with the hopes of a better, more peaceful future.

This land is our land.

We have fought, we have argued, we have shaken hands. We have laid down wreaths of flowers and helped lone soldiers not feel so alone.

We have sung for, danced for, written for, lived for HaTikvah, our Hope.
We have sung for, danced for, written for, lived for our land.

This land is our land. This land was made for you and me.