Once upon a succa time

This past week, I have been patiently dodging succas (tents) all over the city. They're everywhere; in front of restaurants, in front of my door. I found myself saying, "Okay. That's enough. Let's take down the tents and get on with life..."

I feel trapped. I feel called to love a people that I don't understand--a people whose ways are so foreign to me; yet when I read of their struggle to survive through the ages, I am brought to tears every time. I want to speak blessings and not curses. I want to "speak tenderly to Jerusalem....to go up on her high mountains and shout "Here is your God!" (Isaiah 40). Sometimes I succeed; I manage to pray out blessings in shops and on the streets. More often than that, I fail. But I am determined, and with the help of God, I will not give up.

So today, I bless Israel. And I want to share with you this little story of Golda Meir that I just read in the Jerusalem Post. "Once upon a succa time" Read it all. It's well worth it.
http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1129479806195&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull