50 Reasons: Chapter 6

So, we’ve been here for a week already and I figure I may as well update you on how it’s going. I’m going to be honest with you (whoever “you” is… are you a snoopy family member? An archaeologist? Me in 20 years?), it isn’t all falafel balls and soccer games here, but it’s pretty good. I’m going to try to do my best to pay more attention to the good stuff than the hard stuff, because that’s what my parents are trying to do, too. For example, two days ago, my father came back from the bank super-frustrated. He started to complain about the incompetent bank tellers (whatever that means. I’m not sure of the exact definition, but I can guarantee you by the expression on my father’s face that it’s definitely not a compliment). So anyway, my father was midway through his complaints, when my mother motioned in the direction of me and my brothers and gave my father a big, fake-looking smile. That must be some kind of signal they have for not bad-mouthing Eretz Yisrael and Israelis in front of us, because my father immediately relaxed and added, “Well, at least there was strong air conditioning and free water in the bank. Plus, they gave us a free gift for opening an account with them.”

“Ooh! A gift? I love gifts!” piped up Yehuda. “What is it? Is it a toy?”

“It’s probably a pen or calendar,” my mother chimed in. “That’s the kind of thing banks give out to customers.”

“Actually, those are the kind of things that banks give out in America,” my father said with a smile. “But in Eretz Yisrael, it’s a Jewish bank, so they gave us a very Jewish gift. Check it out!” My father showed us the mezuzah case he had received with the bank’s logo on it.