I was comforted to know that our cousins, at least, were all okay
My pillow was soaking wet, drenched with my tears, but I quieted my sobs when I heard Papa’s voice. He didn’t have to know how hard I was crying.
It just wasn’t fair. I really wanted to go to Yerushalayim. And after working so hard helping Mama this week, I deserved it. She had promised. How could she cancel like this — only a few hours before we were supposed to leave? I had told all my friends. Probably every girl in the entire Chevron knew that I was going to Yerushalayim and now Mama couldn’t even tell me if I’d ever get to go at all. What would I tell them?
Through my tears, I heard Dovid ask Papa what had happened, and so I stopped crying. Maybe no one was going to tell me because they always treat me like a baby, but if they told Dovid, I wanted to hear it.
“Papa?” I asked carefully, stepping into the kitchen when I heard the voices turn quiet. “What’s an earthquake? And why can’t we go to Yerushalayim?”
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