Heart to the East

My mom’s dream to take our whole family to the Holy Land wasn’t your typical vacation back then, but while the chicken coops and orange orchards of Ramatayim have morphed into the villas of upscale Hod Hasharon, and my wife and I now stay in our Jerusalem apartment, my teenage heart opened under those fragrant trees

Location: Eretz Yisrael

Years: 1964

I peered through the barbed wire fence, trying to catch a glimpse of the Kosel and the Temple Mount on Tishah B’Av day. Because the Old City was in Jordanian hands, you could go only as far as Migdal David, where you could attempt to see the area of the Beis Hamikdash from a distance through the barbed wire.

In Baltimore we spend a lot of time on Tishah B’Av saying Kinnos, I thought, comparing my experience of the sad, somber day in my hometown with this year’s in the Holy Land. In Baltimore we fasted, we davened, and yes, of course I felt sad, but the Churban felt distant, an event of long-ago history.

Here, I’m not far from where the Beis Hamikdash stood, but I can’t even see the outer wall properly.

Tears sprang to my eyes: In that moment, I felt a deep longing and raw emotional anguish for the makom haMikdash. On that Tishah B’Av, I was a Jew mourning the Churban.