B’ezrat Hashem, this week I will be going to the Kotel with my daughter’s preschool . Her teacher suggested the trip as a fun way to celebrate Chanukah, with one or both parents joining each child for the special visit.
Some of the parents were nervous to travel to Jerusalem.
No, not because of measles.
Because of the stabbing attacks.
It’s a bit ironic, as just last week our friends in Jerusalem were offering us refuge from the latest barrage of Gaza rockets.
But these parents grew up in the South. Rockets are terrifying, but they’ve become a part of life. Jerusalem’s stabbing attacks are different. They’re new, and unknown. There’s no tzeva adom.
And so, I received a text — or rather, a WhatsApp message, because, after all, this is Israel – from the kindergarten teacher.
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We will have a police escort with us while we are in Jerusalem.
Three of the fathers chaperoning the field trip will be armed, and our father in heaven will also be with us.
I hope this is reassuring.
The kids are all very excited.
* * *
For me, the only American mother in the class, the message made me smile.
It is a reminder of how our adopted Israeli community is the perfect mix of practical and spiritual, and how society here will always promote new experiences for our children while keeping them safe.