This morning, after dropping off Raphaela at Gan, I looked at the phenomenal view from my neighborhood: the Israel Museum, the Knesset, the stupid expensive cable bridge, and all the other buildings in the horizon still twinkled with the early morning golden sunlight. And I thought to myself with a contended smile on my face, "This is my home."
I took a virtual snapshot in my head, to carry the image with me on our trip to the States.
This afternoon when I picked Raphaela up from Gan, I saw that the nursery teachers had arranged an impromptu party for my daughter instead of the usual three o'clock snack time. They were explaining as I entered the room that Raphaela would be going on a plane and would not be in Gan for a little bit of time, that they would all miss her and wait for her safe return. As we left the class room, all the children threw kisses in our direction, and it moved me to tears. In fact I had a hard time leaving Gan today, because that is Raphaela's second home, and it has become a place of happiness and loving kindness.
Almost sixteen years after moving to Israel from America, I feel more Israeli inside than ever, and though I look forward to Raphaela meeting her extending family this Thanksgiving trip, I know that it is a short two weeks and then I return to place where my heart belongs.
We return just in time for Chanukah, the Festival of Lights.
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