As has been my custom for many years, on Friday Nights, regardless of where I am , Morocco, Malaysia or Miami, I would light candles and recite in Hebrew my words of thanks for the bread and the grains and the wine and the fruits of the earth. It is usually a happy moment. But not today 10 000 km away in Neve Yaakov in
From the archive1 min read
Originally from the Before the Cure archive
As has been my custom for many years, on Friday Nights, regardless of where I am , Morocco, Malaysia or Miami, I would light candles and recite in Hebrew my words of thanks for the bread and the grains and the wine and the fruits of the earth. It is usually a happy moment.
But not today
10 000 km away in Neve Yaakov in Jerusalem, a terrorist killed severn worshippers saying very similar prayers to mine at a place of worship on the day of remembrance of the Holocaust.
