A letter from Israel

This morning as I walked past the high school next to our apartment, it was obvious that my 10-minute zen walk was ruined. For two gorgeous months I had the neighbourhood to myself. Strolling all by myself to work, thinking about nothing. It was just too late in the morning for the joggers and dog walkers but still early enough not to arrive too sweaty at the office. Then one Thursday morning my peaceful commute changed dramatically. I had to fight my way upstream between swarms of children getting dropped off or making their way to school by foot, bicycle or scooter. It was only when I noticed that the children were all wearing white shirts that I realized it was September the 1st. The date that Israeli school children return, usually*, back to school.  This day is marked with ceremonies and welcome parties.  As custom dictates in Israel, the usual dress for holidays and ceremonies is something white. For the first time in about 18 years, I don't have a child in the Israeli school