
Friends,
I generally use the Jewish holidays to share ideas and insights on Judaism and philanthropy. But this holiday of Yom Haatzmaut, Israel’s independence day, feels different for me, because my older son is celebrating it there, in a trip to Israel with his school. I never cease to feel gratitude for the undeserved privilege we have of being the first generation in 2,000 years to live with a Jewish sovereign state. I feel also the responsibility that this entails. As my son travels there, I wanted to share with you my words to him.
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My dear son,
You are going to Israel for the first time. Well, it’s not really the first time; you were there with me as a baby, but that was before your toddler memory hit the reset button. So, this is the first time you’ll remember and I wanted to write to you to tell you what this means to me, and to our entire family. Why I’m so moved by this trip of yours, and why grandma’s voice breaks when she talks to you about it.
Remember that I once talked you about a writer called Shay Agnon? He was the first Hebrew writer to win the Nobel Prize. He had an amazing story about the inhabitants of a shtetl in Poland that in the midst of the pogroms find a magic cave that can take them straight to the Land of Israel. The people in that shtetl could have never believed that now, that magic cave exists in the form of a skyway at Newark Airport, and that the secret passage is an aluminum cylinder with wings and a Star of David on its tail.
































