Onions

Two days ago I took a couple of buses to Rehovot to visit my friend OW. Her family's long-term plan had always been to make aliyah. Once she had grandchildren in Israel, that solidified the plans which finally came to fruition in August 2023. She had no idea at the time just how much she'd be needed by then. With her son in the reserves, and her daughter-in-law working full-time, her family needed help around the clock. Her greater family needed her too. Back in NJ, we used to buy OW's baking -- challah, cakes, cookies... now she bakes instead for soldiers.

Obviously I wanted to go to visit my old friend, but the reason I specifically went when I did was because I knew she was scheduled to leave early Wednesday morning to volunteer on a farm. The usual workers are also in the army. So we got up early, went to the farm and spent two and a half hours picking onions. 

It was REALLY hot and we were on the ground with lots of sharp thorns and burrs. They actually punctured into the soles of my hiking boots and sometimes scratched my arms and hands, even through the sunblock shirt and gardening gloves. 

In my latest post I mentioned my inner critic. I see now that that's going to be coming up a lot. So I'm going to give her a name. I'll call her Bat Waddabout. Bat means daughter in Hebrew and is often part of Hebrew names, and "But what about?" is a phrase I keep hearing again and again. It is a phrase that often asks important questions, but does so while drowning out the first voice. In writing here, it's important to me to acknowledge the voice but also to redirect to my own story without being pressured to air someone else's. 

When Bat Waddabout hear's me speaking reverently about supporting soldiers, she becomes tense. She is concerned about the idea of supporting soldiers because soldiers mean war and war is not good for children and other living things.

I nod to her concern and perspective, but bring you back now to my own.

To me they are young men and women who serve and protect their country.  They are brothers and sisters, and sons and daughters of my friends. They are people who help to make the country run smoothly and who protect it from people who come to kill.

Almost on the eve of America's 250th anniversary, I thought of America and WWII. I thought of the Victory Gardens people grew because they felt a common cause and common sense of purpose. They knew they had a role to play and everyone stepped up.

So fitting that what we were picking was onions. They are sweet and they make you cry when you cook with them. 

What this helps me understand is that purpose and responsibility are values that I believe in and I'm finding these values aplenty in Israel. I find them in children who serve their country before starting their own independent lives as adults. I'm finding them in people who cook and bake for soldiers instead of for profit. I'm even finding a sliver of it in myself as I take a few hours out of my vacation to give back on a tiny bit of the land beneath my feet.