2001 - United Synagogue Youth

ShalhevetLetting Optimism Win Every Battleby Yael HammermanThe unforgiving combination of jet lag and the warbling birds of Jerusalem awoke me at 5:24 ona Wednesday in mid-July. These unlikely allies worked together on that memorable summer morningand ended my sleep before daylight had a chance to stream into my bedroom.Since the city’s ever-present birds and my confused internal clock had stolen me from myprecious sleep, I had no reason to remain in bed. I foundmy way through my family’s apartment until I reached ourporch. As I struggled to open the creaky, dilapidated slidingdoors, my motor skills still hampered by slumber, my visionbegan to come into focus, and before me lay the hills of theJudean desert in all their glory. I could no longer be angryat the singing birds; I now thanked the jet lag, for it wastheir only seemingly cruel alliance that gave me the opportunityto witness the sun rise on my first morning in Israel.I watched for movement above me and for life belowme. I watched for change in the tapestry, the pinks andoranges of the sky, and for the rising of the sun. Though Istood still, I was moved by beauty. And suddenly, pushingits way into the world like a newborn baby, the sun beganto climb to its rightful throne in the sky. This fiery ballknew its place and its purpose, and though it struggled onits path, I witnessed it arrive, and hold court of its kingdom,as its light shone down and declared the new day.Photo by Philip Weintraub.As I stood overlooking the Dead Sea, clear and unmistakable in the distance, I knew thesummer would be a brilliant one, as long as my eyes were open, my ears were alert, and I allowed theearly morning whistling of birds to direct my days. As the summer progressed, the ever-present suncontinued to rise and shine. Blessed by its warmth, activity filled my days, as I visited, studied, and spenthours with many of the humble and soft-spoken heroes of the land. I spent time learning from Tova,who provides a hot meal to poor members of her Persian community every Wednesday morning. Imet with Shmuel Munk, who runs Bayit Cham, a cozy house for the mentally disabled. I volunteeredwith the Rabbanit Kapach, who runs a day camp, distributes thousands of dollars worth of food, runsa clothing warehouse, coordinates weddings, as well as organizes dozens of other projects for theunderprivileged. I visited Anita Shkedi, an expert on therapeutic horseback riding. I taught otherteenagers about Hadassah Levi, who rescued and raised many babies with Downs Syndrome.I noticed how these remarkable individuals took the problems of the world and pushed themout of their way with deeds of valor. With the strength and determination of the morning sun, theyfound their own place in the universe from which they could provide light and warmth. While violentundertones of black, grey, and red tried to color my summer, I forced myself to see the yellows,oranges, and pinks that these heroes shed onto the earth by celebrating, living, and learning with them.8