Yom shlishi, 18 Iyar 5769, Lag b'Omer.
There was a public service announcement (popularized by a Jewish radio announcer, incidentally) in the 60s, 70s and 80s that reminded parents to be aware of what their kids were up to during the late night hours. It was understood in those days that a responsible parent ought to know that his kids were safe at home by then -- or at least know where they were at and whom they were with.
It is Lag b'Omer, the night Israel goes up in flames, in the most positive sense possible.
Meron is filled with more humanity than I can appreciate all at once. I know where my medium boys are.
We have spoken on the phone; and they are happy to share that they are experiencing something sublime.
Soldiers are guarding the borders, so that the celebrants can dance without fear of anything less than the Almighty. I know where my big boy is.
The 22-year-old new husband, new father is on a jeep patrol with his comrades.
He would rather be home with his exhausted wife and their two-week-old daughter, helping to carry the little one around for an hour here and there so the new mommy can sleep. But he has a job to do; and he does it with focus, even though he has the weight of the world on his young shoulders.
We have spoken on the phone; and it helps him when we tell him that his brothers can dance because he is doing his job.
This is my Israel on a Monday night in May.
It's eleven o'clock. Do you know where your children are?
Photo credits: Isranet, Avihu Shapira, AP